A taste of Singapore, part 2

A while ago I promised Shanaz to embark on an island-wide hunt for the best white chye tow kuay in Singapore. She had very specific criteria for what she wanted, and through my research and multiple conversations with taxi drivers I had identified three possible candidates. The other day Victor and I set out on our mission for the Holy Grail, but were thwarted at every step. The version at Bedok Interchange had a wonderful texture and lightness of flavour, and was - very importantly - not too greasy. Unfortunately it was hardly fragrant enough, and did not have enough chye poh. It was nevertheless pretty good, but the perfectionists in us would not allow us to settle. Sadly it wound up being the only version we would try that day, for we travelled to our second location at Blk 820 Tampines St 81 only to find that the stall in question had either closed or moved to an unknown location. A tremendous pity, for the person we spoke to while we were there started reminiscing and waxing lyrical about it, his eyes on the verge of misting over. Our third location - Blk 724 Ang Mo Kio Ave 6 - came up empty as well, as we found the stall shuttered and a sign indicating that the owners were out of town on vacation.

So we returned home defeated, but the day was not a complete waste. We got to try some of Singapore's best food and found out which ones of Singapore's many eating establishments had fallen from their lofty standards. (The hae mee and nasi lemak at Adam Road are both, sadly, pale shadows of their former selves.) It takes a unique blend of talent, discipline, sheer determination and a healthy dose of good fortune to get to the top and stay there - and the unforgiving nature of the Singaporean people's palates mean that you get found out as a pretender quickly enough.

One of my favourite breakfast foods is chwee kueh, a rice cake steamed in metal saucers and then topped with chye poh (pickled radish braised in soy sauce and garlic and finely diced). This dish is deceptively simple to make; the best versions have an airy texture, not overly starchy and can neither be properly chewed (in the correct sense of the word) nor swallowed whole. The result is a happy dilemma, and the saltiness of the chye poh and spice of any accompanying sweet chili are welcome complements.


Another of my favourites is a dish called yu pian mi fen - literally Vermicelli with Fish Slices. These are cooked and served in a thick milky broth made from fish stock and evaporated milk. Slices of Snakehead - a freshwater fish native to Asia and Africa - are either cooked in the broth or breaded, deep-fried and added to the final dish. Snakehead is such a popular food fish in this region because it has a neutral flavour and firm texture, and so is a very versatile medium for the Asian cook. In some versions of this dish, a tablespoon of cognac is added tableside right before serving, which masks any mustiness the fish broth might have and makes it sweeter still.


There is also mee pok - a dish of flat, yellow, egg noodles that has Teochew origins and comes either dry (mee pok tah) or in a broth (mee pok teng). These noodles are usually tossed in a sauce and served with fishballs and/or ground pork. Now, I use the term sauce liberally, for what happens is that chili, oil, vinegar and soy sauce are ladled into the bowl before the noodles are added and the mixture tossed. Any self-respecting classically-trained cook would whisk the liquid ingredients first to create an emulsion and what we can properly call a sauce, but that step is skipped in making mee pok. Because the oil is not emulsified, the noodles in the eventual dish are coated in a sheen of it, and you have to take care to wipe the grease from your lips after eating the dish. It is not the most glamourous of endeavours, but a wholly satisfying one nonetheless.


The secret to mee pok is entirely in the vinegar. The right amount can make or break the entire dish, as the vinegar adds a tang to the sweetness and saltiness of the other ingredients that rounds out the dish very nicely. More importantly, it breaks down the starch in the noodles, making the strands less sticky and their taste more palatable.

It occurs to me that I've written about a lot of noodle dishes. Like I said, they are quite possibly one of, if not my favourite starch. This is by no means wholly representative of Singaporean cuisine - there are lots of other non noodle-based dishes. But for the sake of thoroughness, allow me to go through all the important ones.

Beef kway teow is a dish that sparks a lot of debate. Whether to have it dry or in the broth (dry, of course), whether to add organ meats or just eat it with beef slices and beef balls (organ meats, obviously), and what kind of noodles should you use (I actually like the long and thin white rice noodles rather than kway teow, but on this point I am indifferent). My father used to bring us to the coffeeshop next to Rex Cinema on Mackenzie Road and regale us with tales of the heady 1960's and 70's in Singapore - when the country was celebrating its newfound independence and forging a post-colonial identity of its own. Rex Cinema was where all the cool kids hung out, and an integral part of my parents' courtship. The coffeeshop next door used to serve the best beef noodles I have ever eaten, and goreng pisang that was simply out of this world. Unfortunately it closed in the early 90s, and as far as I know did not reopen elsewhere.

After the closure of that coffeeshop (Rex Cinema itself is still standing and was briefly an ice-skating rink, now it is apparently a discotheque), I went to Hock Lam St for my beef kway teow. It was good, but not as good - and never excited in me the same kind of eager anticipation as the Rex version. We went to the Purvis St outlet for a taste and was sorely disappointed. They had run out of the white rice noodles so I had to make do with the yellow egg ones, and the prices were -in a word - exhorbitant. Granted, it is in a great location (Purvis St is home to such fine dining destinations as Garibaldi and Gunther's, as well as a whole host of other local eateries), but even that does not justify $7 for a small bowl of noodles and a few measly pieces of tripe.


There are also lots of great Malay noodle dishes, and possibly my favourite of them all is mee soto. Soto literally means soup in Malay, and is used in this instance as shortform for soto ayam - chicken soup. This soup is made from a base of chicken stock and what is known as a rempah - a paste of ground shallots, garlic, chilies and spices like coriander, fennel, cumin and the like. The resultant dish of noodles, chicken strips and soup is often topped with green chilies and fried onions for added spice and crunch.


The day was tinged with disappointment - Adam Road was an unexpected letdown, and the unbelievable bad luck not to even try two of our three shortlisted contenders for the perfect chye tow kuay was a bitter pill to swallow. We comforted ourselves with all the good dishes that we did get to eat, and by saying to ourselves that if it were easy, we wouldn't do it. Back to the drawing board, I suppose, and I look forward to the day that I can bring Shanaz some good news.