Sajis Indian Food

Address Nan Tai Eating House 01-29, Waterloo St Blk 262 11am to 7pm daily closed one Monday towards end of each month

My upbringing, somehow, associated Indian rojak and my craft of football very closely together. You see, back in the late seventies, I played school football in that wonderful soccer field smack in the heart of town, which is just a spit from my alma mater, the St Joseph’s Institution at Bras Basah. It was just a stone’s throw from yet another old institution, the Waterloo Street sarabat stalls, birthplace of Singapore Indian rojak.

A thirty cents plateful of spicy potatoes and salad with that distinct orange coloured sweet chili dip, generated enough carbo-sugar energy for that teenager to fly down the wings, dazzle the backs, curve a direct free kick in, and return to cover for defence, over ninety minutes.

But it is that unique flavour and experience that make this dish truly memorable. The ten or so little stalls that were a notch more decent than makeshift food carts were infamous for their teh tarek, Indian style mee siam, mee goreng, nasi goreng and of course the legendary Indian rojak. They use to reside in an old stretch of Waterloo Street where the current Singapore Management University now occupies.

Then, we would sit on rickety chairs on the kerbside by the road, bark for Charlie or Asana and spell out our orders of potatoes, fried tofu, coconut flour ball, sambal eggs or even prawn fritters, if the budget allowed. And without fail, it would be freshly re-fried and would be accompanied by a bowl of piping hot dip, made with mashed sweet potatoes, tamarind, chili powder, sugar, salt and toasted sesame seeds.

We would devour, concentrating on cleaning out that bowl of heavenly dip by furiously stabbing every potato or tofu into the sauce, so that we can ask for refills. And totally oblivious to the smoky SBS 163 bus that shot by every 30 minutes and clouded the sarabat stalls in diesel fumes.

“I remember, after church every Sunday, I must order a plate of mee goreng anda few pieces of rojak, which must include the fried sotong slices. My ritual then was to pour the sauce onto the mee goreng. It was heavenly man!” recalls Mr Daniel Wang, a civil servant then whose job was to ensure that these hawkers had basic hygiene practices and standards.

Sadly, the Waterloo Street sarabat stalls made way for re-development in the early 80’s.

Today, looking back, I can still taste that Waterloo Street Indian rojak, literally.

Remnants of that Indian rojak era still linger around today. A short five minute walk from the original location leads you to Sajis Indian Food stall where some of the remaining original hawkers from Waterloo Street sarabat stalls still make it like they used to.

“These old Indians who used to sell Indian rojak around here all come from Thuckalay, a little town just outside Tamil Nadu.”, recalls Mr Sabeek Mohd Yusof, whose father once ran a provision shop but was egged on to set up Sajis by the Thuckalay community of rojak hawkers after the sarabat stalls were relocated. “They knew my father well and told him not to worry, they’ll do all the work.”.

One of them is Mr Asana, who’s already prepping all the ingredients every day by 6 am. He’s pushing 80 and can hardly stand for long but can still diligently churn out up to 15 items which include those fried coconut flour balls, prawn fritters, egg tempura, fried tofu, vegetable fitters and fried tempe. He makes them slowly, one by one. Watching him painfully mash every sweet potato and blend them into the sauce is such sweet sorrow, knowing this scene will soon fade into history. He now lives back in Thuckalay, India, but comes over to Waterloo Street a few months a year to help out at Sajis, like most of the old helpers at the stall whom Sabeek inherited when he took over from his father in the early 90’s.

By 11 am, most of the items are ready and Mr Asana sits down to rest over a cup of tea. Sabeek and another assistant is ready to take your orders and re-fry those rojak items.

“Very strange, although my best sellers are the fried coconut flour balls, prawn fritters and the red cuttlefish slices, customers look out for the potato and fried taukua to see if our items are fresh. If we have a lot, then it means “fresh” to them. But they don’t buy them.”, Sabeek shares.

Meanwhile, Sabeek is headed for a potential problem…where to get replacements for these graying experts when they can cook no more. “ Makansutra says die, die must try, so customers are trying but my stuff, dying!”.