No sign, no soul

No Signboard Seafood Restaurant (Esplanade)
8 Raffles Avenue, The Esplanade Mall
#01-14/16
Singapore 039802
Tel: +65 6336 9959

I have always found it strange how it is only in Chinese restaurants that you get the large round tables of 10 or more people. It seems to me that the more reasonable method of handling large parties – either a long table or combining smaller tables lengthwise – may be more efficient space-wise. At the very least, this naturally creates smaller groups, or “pockets” – making dinner table conversation much easier and more intimate. If I am at a long table, or at one of many four-tops pulled together, I know who to talk to. When I am one of 12 people at a round table, it becomes a little more difficult to manage the conversation.

There are people who have learnt the art of holding court at a dinner table, and I admire them for it. I have seen the very best do this – engage everyone in hearty conversation, offer interesting opinions when it is time to be serious, and laugh when it is time not to be – all the while politely but subtly slipping their food into their mouths and never looking anything but graceful. I could never do it well; I was too interested in the food. In a strange way it was often people that prevented you from truly enjoying your food, except for the rare few that are as good as the food itself.

Britt came to visit Singapore this past weekend, and one of the places we took her to was No Signboard seafood restaurant, for that famous Singaporean classic – chilli crab. It was lovely to see her after so long, and it was a good thing that we had already spent the bulk of the day together – for she wound up sitting across from me at the large round table and we did not exchange a single word the entire time.

Chilli crab is, according to many, the unofficial “national” dish of Singapore and consists of hard-shelled crabs stir-fried in a tomato and chilli-based gravy – that is in turn usually laced with spices like galangal and turmeric as well as ribboned with beaten egg. Eating chilli crabs is as much adventure as it is dining, because of the efforts you have to go through to crack the crab shells and pick at, slurp on or suck out the meat. It is served with zha mantou – deep-fried sweet bread rolls with which to mop up the remainder of the gravy once you are done with the crabs.

The No Signboard restaurant chain is one of the success stories within Singaporean hawker fare. Started in 1981 at the Mattar Rd Hawker Centre – without a signboard – it remains a family-owned and run business with four locations in Singapore and several others overseas. Their latest offerings, at the Esplanade and Vivocity, are skewing more upmarket. As is somewhat inevitable when any organisation expands, they have sacrificed quality and market leadership for consistency and increased market reach. They may no longer be the best at making crabs, but to many are still a familiar, reliable and acceptable choice.

(I like Red House at East Coast Park for chilli crab, Eng Seng at Joo Chiat for black pepper crab, and Mellben in Ang Mo Kio for both plain and white pepper crab.)

We ordered some traditional zi char dishes to complement the chilli crabs, which was undoubtedly the main draw of the night. The gu lu yoke (sweet and sour pork) was very disappointing – the batter was not crispy enough and the tomato sauce did not have enough of a sour tang to it. The steamed Soon Hock was actually done quite well and drew rave reviews from Britt, which is saying something because she apparently grew up eating a lot of seafood. The house-made tofu with ground pork - one of their specialties - was well made and well-flavoured. The sambal kangkong was decent, but fell short in that like most of the other dishes it did not have enough wok hei.

To explain: wok hei is a romanticised notion of the flavour, or “essence”, imparted onto the food cooked in a wok at very high heat. True wok hei is a combination of the scientific – Maillard reactions, caramelisation and combustion levels only possible at high heat, increased moisture retention of the ingredients due to the short flash-frying time; and that which is not so tangible – the speed and the skill of the chef in exposing all the ingredients to the heat and to the sauces and flavourings, and the alleged ability of cast iron to retain and impart flavour. It is wok hei that gives wok-cooked food that smokiness, and amplifies its flavour while retaining its lightness.

The bright note was that the bamboo clams were excellently prepared – lightly seasoned with soy sauce, garlic, ginger and chillies – as well as being meaty and succulent. These are also called razor clams, and I had eaten them only once before but made a mental note to always ask about their availability when eating seafood in the future.

The chilli crabs took a while to arrive, by which time we had almost filled up on the other dishes. But when they came we all wordlessly agreed that it looked worth the wait for, and tucked in heartily. I was slightly disappointed – the chilli gravy needed a little more heft and spice – but the crabs themselves were fresh and juicy and an absolute joy to slurp on. I defy anybody with dining table etiquette to look graceful while eating crabs. It may be possible, but then you would not be getting the most out of the meal.


For a chain that has its roots in hawker centre and zi char cuisine – in which wok hei is paramount for the distinctive and soul-satisfying flavour of the food – No Signboard’s fancier locations have really fallen far from grace. Sure, this location is air-conditioned, overlooks Marina Bay and has the feel of a proper Chinese restaurant; but I would trade all that in an instant to be sucking down on chilli crabs on a stiff-backed stool, in a stuffy shack on the beach.

"When the cod went so cheap, but so plenty"

A couple of weeks ago I actually cooked at home... a rarity, by any measure. I have been working in the restaurant business for a while now and being away from your home five nights a week makes it hard to even keep any food in house, much less make anything good. I always find that I making relatively simple dishes, ones that don't require super long prep times; I'm not braising beef or pork on my day off. I tend to favor fish or cuts of meat that need a relatively short cooking time, pork chops, sirloin, chicken, etc.

In this case I made a shrimp pasta to start, very simple. Seared the shrimp in hot olive oil, set aside. Sweat onion and garlic in the same pan, also olive oil. White wine, bring to simmer, add canned tomato, cook out for 15-20 mins. Season with kosher salt and red pepper flakes. Add the linguine to the sauce and finish cooking. Dilute sauce with pasta water if necessary. Re-add shrimp with some parsley chiffonade.

For a second course I made cod. I love cod, but more than cod I love bacalhau, salt preserved cod. The drying process of making bacalhau insures that what mild flavor the fish has is concentrated and the quantity of salt insures that one's taste buds jump to attention. Unfortunately I had to settle for fresh cod in this case. I prepared it with a fennel, onion, chorizo and parsley salad. I sauced it with no more than lemon juice and olive oil. First I sliced the chorizo into rounds and rendered them over medium heat in olive oil. I set them aside and placed them in a bowl with sliced fennel, red onion half-moons, and parlsey, seasoned with salt. Meanwhile I dusted the cod with salt and flour and fried it in the chorizo oil, at first over high heat to get it some color then over medium low to let it cook through. I dressed the salad with good olive oil and lemon juice. If I had been making this a more haute preparation I think that a preserved lemon vinaigrette would have been great. Otherwise, a mayonnaise based sauce could be really great. Not to mention using bacalhau. Also, a high quality chorizo is necessary. I used a Goya chorizo and it just wasn't doing it for me. Here's a mediocre picture:

On the whole, I thought it was a very good meal, and we were drinking a very nice rose cava, which went quite well with both dishes. It was creamy, yeasty, with a mild red fruit profile, very refreshing, plenty of acidity. It might be enough to get me to cook a home a little more.

Food porn

I made a steak recently and the sight of it stirred my loins. It was pretty much textbook - charred brown exterior and a warm, pink center. I had to get a picture of it and all I had was the camera on my phone.

This is how it looked after plating.

The secret to scrambled eggs is to cook them in a saucepan over low heat, gently beating them as you go, and removing them from heat ever so often. There is a video on Youtube of Gordon Ramsay making these (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1SM73Qi1BQ) for breakfast. I typically add a little cream but otherwise do it the same way he does. The result is scrambled eggs just the way I like them: just a little runny, soft to the bite and meltingly delicious.

Tuna! Sup, Tuna. Gonna have some tuna for dinner? I bet you're sick of Tuna, right? Probably have Tuna every night. Tuna!

Surf and Turf, or an Ode to the Oyster

Hank's Oyster Bar
1624 Q St NW
Washington DC 20009
202-462-4265

Let me just state categorically, that I love eating raw oysters. I love holding the half-shell to my mouth, positioning my oyster fork just thusly, in rude anticipation of a moment of intense enjoyment. I love swallowing them without chewing, unadorned of any dressing, and slurping their juices down. I love the smell and the taste of the sea – never mind that I sometimes find grit in my mouth. It is one of the great pleasures and rituals of dining, and one I find I must perform every once so often.

It is quite convenient, then, to have Hank’s Oyster Bar just a few blocks down from where I live in DC. It is a cute little place with decent food – not amazing – with just enough flaws to render it human, which in turn makes it all the more enticing. More importantly, they have good oysters, the selection of which changes daily. Hank’s is also one of only two establishments on 17th St where the food is anywhere near acceptable, which – coupled with the delightful hostess Maya – might explain why I am there so often. The delicious irony of it all (pardon the pun), is that the other place on 17th St that is halfway decent is Komi, which in my humble opinion is the best restaurant in DC bar none, and a pearl amidst the swirling cesspool of gastronomic mediocrity that is Dupont Circle’s most famous street.

So Hank’s it was, where Natalia, Clayton and I went last night to get our (or rather just mine) oyster fix. They did not have Blue Points, but they did have Kumamotos; and I got a half dozen of those, which were gone in as many seconds. I lie, actually. We did pause, in recognition of the efforts of the oyster-shucker working tirelessly at the back to give us this day our wonderful oysters. And then we went right back at them.

For dinner, Clayton ordered a steak, which I, at least on the inside, frowned upon. I mean, everybody – apart from Clayton, apparently – knows the seventeenth cardinal rule of dining out: that seafood at a steakhouse is always decent, but steak at a seafood place can never be good. But I exercised what little restraint I was born with and held my tongue; the moment was far too genial for my caustic comments. I never did try the steak, so I cannot say for sure – but Clayton seemed to enjoy it. Although he is from Texas. And with that, I rest my case.

Perhaps the best thing you can do with seafood, I think, is to use Old Bay on it. I do not know what goes into it, and I do not want to know. What I do know, though, is that it is delicious. It’s almost cheating, even. We tried the Old Bay French fries and the Old Bay shrimp – and all I will say is that one can always tell when food is good whenever it makes you drop your fork along with whatever Old World sensibilities you were brought up to have, and ravage it with your bare hands.

Hank’s Oyster Bar is a wonderful little place – something or other about it always effuses you and fills you with love for your common man. Or perhaps that’s really the numerous rounds of beers talking. Whatever the case, it is the kind of restaurant that you see couples on first dates at – and your first instinct is not to feel sorry for their awkwardness, but happy for their courage. We departed late into the night – with big hugs all round – and stumbled home with silly smiles on our faces.

Summertime and the livin' is easy

s1. I know I love grilling more than life itself, but I am undecided as to whether I like springtime grilling or summer grilling better - there is, at least for me, a subtle difference. In the springtime I like to do smaller items, more vegetables and fish, perhaps; and keep it simple - no rubs, no oils, no marinades, just intrinsic flavours with that added smoky goodness. In the summer I like to do heartier stuff, large haunches of beef and lamb and meats in marinades - and to keep stuff on the grill longer for that sweet caramelized taste and that meat-falling-off-the-bone deliciousness.

Last night I stuffed a pair of rainbow trout with onion and garlic and mushrooms and breadcrumbs seasoned with lemon and thyme; then grilled them, covered, for what must have been 12 of the longest minutes of my life. I was jumping up and down in and out of my pants. I crosshatched the skin like I was taught to - I was, after all, taught by the best - and threw on a side of green beans to cook in the last few minutes. I know you are supposed to always let meats rest a couple of minutes after removing from the grill to let the juices return to the surface, for meat that is more moist and juicy - but goddamn it, I can never wait that long. I always just want to pick it up straight off the grill and stuff my face with my bare hands.

2. I often wonder why perfectly competent home chefs like myself still crave eating out so much. There are just so many reasons; I should keep a list, really, but my latest fascination is with the pacing of the meal. This is something that Ember in Singapore, Mills Tavern in Providence and Cashion's Eat Place in DC - collectively some of my favourite restaurants - have honed to a science. At these places more than most I have always had meals paced perfectly - course after course served at just the right intervals to allow for digestion and pleasant conversation, the food always still at the right temperature when it gets to your table. It is so hard for the home chef - unless he is not sitting down to eat as well - to plan and time multiple courses perfectly. It is a small thing, sure, but the best restaurants do even the smallest things well.