Moi Lum Restaurant

Address 4, Murray Street Murray Terrace

Opening Hours 11am-2.30pm/ 6pm-10pm daily

Telephone 6226 2283

Ever once in a while, I return to my Canto culinary roots and remind myself of the genetics of my palate. A BBC documentary once did a take on the wet markets of Guangzhou (Canton) and had this afterthought “ the Cantonese will eat anything with wings except an airplane and anything with legs except a table.”

But I began with the safe and boring but well loved classic..Cantonese Fried Chicken.

When they do it well, the joy of eating it is very vivid in my mind. I’ll run this through slow-mo.

When my chopsticks first come into contact with that piece of roast chicken, the mid section of the thigh, I felt the dry, yet slightly oily, parchment thin and crispy skin. It was lightly rough and golden brown with some dark edges. I poked my chopsticks between to lift it up and it willfully surrendered to my pressure.

It looked succulent and held firmly. The crispy skin and the meat glistened as it picked up a reflection of the window light.

Then, as I brought it towards my gaping mouth, all primed for ambrosia, the aroma of the wok and chicken overwhelmed me. It was roasty, fragrant with that savoury aroma of chicken meat. It was hot and I began to notice the wet and juicy cross section and the meat was perfectly sliced and held up only by that pinkish white little column of bone. Those chicken oils oozing between the fleshes hung on only long enough for that journey to my mouth. Any longer and it’ll drip and dry up. By then, I was completely focused for that one second. I knew the calling of that moment’s destiny. It is kismet.

They air dry the fowl for four hours before deep frying it to ensure the texture.

My palate was locked in for the moment and the back of my mouth was anticipating entry and the flavour. My senses momentarily shut down as that piece of chicken entered. I salivated. Then, in perfect harmony, all the senses were pleased. It was comfortably hot and the texture was soft, juicy and I felt the smooth tender muscles giving into my bite. The oils rushed to smoothen and flavour each bite. The paper thin crispy skin crackled a little inside and by instinct, the little bone was sifted aside and headed out of the mouth. My eyes were are open but I could only internalize the moment.

What my mind pre-empted the system for, it delivered. The golden brown visual was translated into that crispy skin texture and the fragrance agreed with the flavour. I chewed slowly and that flavour swirled helplessly in my mouth, each bite breaking and dividing the taste even more acutely.

I swallowed and yearned for that sensational encore.

Next, the Golden Coin Crab Tofu.

It looked rough and was blessed with bits of fresh white crab meat. The golden fried tofu was blended with spongey egg batter and was soft and resilient to the touch. The clear thick vegetable sauce was asking me to soak the tofu in and I obliged.

It was like soaking a very fresh and soft absorbent sponge tofu, like a cushiony pillow taupok. It was easy to the bite it and contained the sauce nicely, without dripping. It did not taste like tofu at all.

Then came the pig’s caul spring roll.

It came looking like a hae cho (hokkien prawn roll), except the stuffing had minced pork, prawns, salted egg yolk, water chestnut and chopped coriander. It beckoned. But what really got my attention was when chef Ah Tuck said the skin was made from pig’s caul ( the fatty tissue encircling the stomach). He said he had to bribe suppliers for this limited supply item. It looked like a warped net made from strips of soft fat and is used to wrap and hold the stuffing. He rolls it in egg then in potato flour and fries.

It looked dry but light. The skin was biscuit crispy and the fat from the caul was lost during high heat frying. It went so well with the tight fillings and like a gastronomic symphony, I could taste all the ingredients. The water chestnuts brought out a pleasant crunch and was balanced by the powdery salted egg yolk bits. When I dunked it into the sweet soy sauce, the contrast was like a gentle electric guitar solo in a chamber quartet.

Ah Tuck is be the son of the late genial yet stern Mr Kong Yew Lum, founder of the 60 yr old Moi Lum Restaurant.. Many older foodies remember their five-tabled restaurant along Tanjong Pagar in the 80s. They daily queue for seats was very chaotic and they did not take reservations then. Folks had to double park their cars and press their face against the window to check for seat availability before barging in.

Thankfully, they sit more than twice the amount of customers today and they’ll take and honour your bookings.