Home is where the stomach lies

Shin Yeh (欣葉)
177 River Valley Road
Liang Court Shopping Center, #02-19
Singapore 179030
Tel: +65 6338 7337

After so many years in the wilderness, as it were, I am slowly rediscovering an appreciation for how diverse Chinese cooking truly is. Not only did I revisit all the various regional cuisines from Mainland China, I was also recently reminded of Taiwanese cuisine and its dedication to rustic flavours and basic ingredients. My sister selected Shin Yeh as the location for the latest gathering amongst several old family friends – every one of them a foodie and a connoisseur – and it served as a timely reminder of the sheer injustice in simply using the term “Chinese cuisine” to refer to a collection of what could easily be considered cuisines in their own right.

Taiwanese cuisine is largely influenced by the cooking from the mid to southern provinces of China, and especially by Hakka and Hokkien cuisine. There is a healthy appreciation – that is in no way healthful – of the pig and various pork products. Other common ingredients include rice, soy, sesame and the cuisine is marked by a greater tendency to use fruits – especially in savoury dishes.

Shin Yeh is a chain of restaurants in Taiwan dedicated to putting “what mum used to cook” on the table. They are apparently hugely popular there and recently decided to open a branch in Singapore as a joint venture with the Tung Lok group. Shin Yeh Singapore is located in one of the more storied shopping malls in the country’s brief history – Liang Court.

Based on our trip there, Liang Court has transformed itself from a dusty and dimly-lit icon of River Valley Road to a bright and inviting modern shopping mall complementing the development of the surrounding Clarke Quay area. Unfortunately the parking complex is still dusty and dimly-lit; and the basic facilities of the building were in no shape to handle the increased traffic flow brought about by the facelift. An example: there are only three elevators servicing the entire building, all of which seemed to be full with people at every floor. We eventually gave up waiting and took the stairs instead.

Shin Yeh itself is a welcoming space, with an unconventional entrance marked by a water feature and affording an inviting glimpse of the interior to the passer-by. It is decorated in natural colours, and while not necessarily evoking the full feeling of the contemporary look it seems to desire, is a warm and homely enough place to enjoy a good meal. The captain who attended to us was cheery and very helpful – and a combination of our bungling and her obliging advice eventually resulted in our order. There was Chinese tea all round; and the food arrived quickly and did not stop until we begged for mercy.

One of the staples of Taiwanese cuisine is their sweet potato porridge: a basic, bare-bones starch with which to eat the bolder, more rustic flavours of other main dishes. I thought this could have been salted a little more, but as it was it had good texture and the sweet potatoes cooked well.

We ordered a helping of lor bak (卤肉) that I thought was absolutely outstanding. This is pork belly braised in sweet soy sauce and accompanied by bamboo shoots. It was wonderfully complex – the basic sweetness of the sauce complemented by the addition of star anise, nutmeg, galangal and other flavours I could not place. The meat was cooked to the point just before it would all fall apart, tender to the bite and soaking in both its own drippings as well as the braising liquid. But the best part was the sheer fattiness of the pork belly – a cardiologist’s nightmare – but oh so delicious.

Other good dishes were the “ah-ya” vegetables – green and leafy and cooked simply, the “hong zao” meat – deep fried slices of barbequed pork, and the pineapple shrimp. The steamed Soon Hock was flavoured well but had been either overcooked or sitting on the pass for too long. Less impressive were the tofu with preserved vegetables (a tad bland) and the “three-cup” chicken, which was cooked with a little too much basil and was mostly just spice.

The service at Shin Yeh, while well meaning and executed in good humour, fell far short of the standards expected of restaurant dining. For one, none of the servers assigned to our table had any idea how to serve wine. We had two bottles and each happened to be served by a different person. The first server at least knew to present the bottle for a tasting, but then proceeded to top off the glass of the taster and go around the table filling glasses regardless of gender. The second server did not even present the second bottle – a different wine – but instead started going around the table filling everyone’s glasses. But my main gripe was that once our main courses had all been served – and before we had ordered dessert – the servers had started clearing our plates (acceptable) and wiping the table down with a cloth rag (not acceptable). It was extremely off-putting and left me with no mood to eat dessert.

Shin Yeh’s signature dessert is a pastry with sweet and savoury fillings – the savoury a filling of shrimp and radish, while the sweet portion was of red bean paste. I thought the pastry was very well made, but the fillings were nothing to write home about. The kitchen also served up complimentary helpings of muar chee – cubes of glutinous rice paste steamed and covered in sugar as well as ground peanuts. This was decent but nowhere near sweet enough.

One of the paradoxes of trying to recreate “home-cooking” in a restaurant setting is that “home-cooking” means something different to every single individual. It is therefore perhaps impossible to satisfy everyone, and more likely than not a small minority will walk away disappointed and thinking, “That’s not how my mother made that dish.” Trying to create something that will live up to the public’s often romanticized ideals of “home-cooking” is a recipe for disappointment, and trying to create that on a scale with which to feed many mouths is a recipe for disaster. Another conundrum is that it is far harder to stand out, far more difficult to be innovative and distinctive in your cooking with home-cooked staples. To present something new, in the form of something familiar, is a terribly tricky business.

With that said, Shin Yeh is probably one of the more authentic representations of Taiwanese cuisine available to Singaporeans. An added advantage is that it is open late – until 2am – and so represents a great jumping off point for the many clubs and bars around the area. Yet as an addition to the Tung Lok stable of restaurants it is somewhat weak, and certainly not worth a special trip to.