Too much of a good thing?

Wan Dou Sek (搵到食)
126 Sims Avenue (between Geylang Lor 15 and 17)
Singapore 387449
Tel: +65 67464757

“The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom… for we never know what is enough until we know what is more than enough.” – William Blake

It is a truth universally acknowledged that I will eat too much when I go for dim sum. How could one not? There are so many choices, so many staples to revisit and new treats to try out; and best of all everything is bite-sized. I have been convinced many times over that there can be too much of a good thing, but each time I am asked to make that choice again I fail miserably at doing the right thing.

In Singapore, quality dim sum is still largely the domain of finer-dining restaurants. Cheap and good Hong Kong “cha chaan teng” ("teahouse") style dim sum is very rare here, and there are many reasons for this. Chief among them is that the best dim sum is hand-made, and therefore very labour intensive – and you can only get away with this if you operate at the higher price points of the finer restaurants. At mid-range or cheaper establishments you wind up having to make several tough decisions – procuring commercial supplier-made dough or wraps, cutting corners in the intricacies of the dim sum making process, or reducing the variety of your offerings. With the volume that the kitchen is supposed to manage, you are forced to substitute the raw for the ready-made, and compromise the quality of your product.

The quality of the ingredients in itself is another differentiating factor. In a country that has a negligible agricultural industry and imports most of its food, truly fresh and local ingredients are hard to come by. This becomes more critical in the making of dim sum, where freshness of ingredients is paramount. You have to pay more to get the quality ingredients and to get them fresh, so only the higher-end restaurants can charge enough to make their venture profitable.

This is not to say that there aren’t any good places that aren’t expensive restaurants in Singapore. Red Star in Chinatown has been around for decades and, creditably, has lost little if any of its lustre. Some stalls within hawker centres also do produce very good dim sum. But there also is a place in Geylang that is a great approximation of a true cha chaan teng, and it is open 24 hours.

Wan Dou Sek (搵到食) is a no frills eating place right in the heart of Singapore’s red light district, providing an array of savoury treats amidst a setting of some other not-so-savoury treats. Literally translated as “(I’ve) Found Something To Eat”, the name of the shop is also a clever homonym of the numbers 1-2-6, which coincidentally happens to be their address. When I say there are no frills, I really do mean it. The tables are mismatched, there are no tablecloths, and only 6 out of 10 pieces of the cutlery provided passed a cleanliness check by the naked eye. But if you can look past all that, then you are in for a treat.

The trick that Wan Dou Sek pulls is that they go all out for everything. Dishes are chock-full of the ingredients that make them tasty: the pei dan chok had more pei dan than chok and a sweetness that was strangely addictive. Flavours are intense and pronounced, and sauces are reduced to the bare minimum and seasoned with absolute disregard for personal health. Chee cheong fun, which normally comes drizzled in light soy sauce, came instead in a mixture of soy sauce and oyster sauce that had been thickened, reduced and salted heavily. The sauce was almost unbearable on its own, but when paired with the rice noodle rolls, was sinfully delicious and just this side shy of over-the-top. The taste of garlic was all-powerful in the pai guat, which I enjoyed but may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

The true star at Wan Dou Sek is the cha siu bao. Now this is not a dim sum dish that I normally eat, but the cha siu here is fatty and full-flavoured, and they make the buns “open-top” style here, which is wonderfully old school. I popped a freshly-steamed cha siu bao in my mouth and for a minute struggled to think of what could possibly top the experience.

The staples are executed fairly well here, with more working-man graft than fine-dining finesse. The siew mai and har gao are satisfying not for the lightness of the skin or the freshness of their filling – but because they are stuffed to the brim with ingredients and pack power in their punch. Of course, there are also misses. There is a curry chicken chee cheong fun – an eclectic and innovative amalgam of two Singaporean favourites – that sadly failed to deliver. The braised duck wing tips did not have the fullness of flavour that I expected, and the cha ye fan (glutinous rice wrapped in tea leaves) was markedly disappointing in both its taste and texture.

The place was also less chaotic, less boisterous than the average Hong Kong cha chaan teng. I suppose because of the surroundings (call them rustic or ramshackle depending on how generous you are), few if any actually go there for the atmostphere and almost nobody lingers on after eating. People go there for the food and not to meet or connect with friends and family. While this meant that I could actually hear the music playing in the background and the conversation at our table, and could enjoy my food in peace – I couldn’t help but wish that there had been a little more bustle. After all, that’s part of the cha chaan teng experience, isn’t it?

That being said, Wan Dou Sek’s dedication to excess in all forms was exemplary, and I must say they do a good job of what they do. Best of all, they are open 24 hours, so whether you need a morning brunch or a late night drunken repas – it is always an option.