115 Tang Shui

Address #01-163 Outram Temporary Market

Opening Hours 8.30am-5.30pm closed on Tuesdays

It would be suicidal if you sold desserts in Chinatown today and not offer the usual crowd pleasers like ice kachang, cheng tng or chendol to a new crowd of nonchalant customers. So what if you have low overheads and are just spending on sugar, nuts and beans on food cost.

You still need to make ends meet. Everyone pays similar rentals, oil prices and ERP charges.

And although he understands that “to survive, you’ve got to sell the stuff that customers can eat everyday”, Mr Toh Hoi Yip contradicts his belief. “I sell only what I sell and only in a manner my mother taught me.” He still painstakingly spend hours frying black sesame seeds, peanuts and almonds and grinds them into paste and creams, although practical wisdom would dictate that you simply buy the powders from reputable Cantonese desserts suppliers and just add water.

But it is at stalls like Mr Toh’s that sharpened my palate for Canto sweets like Fa Sung Wu (peanut cream), Zi Ma Wu (black sesame paste) and Red Bean Soup. I have been a fan of their desserts for almost ten years now.

Just swirling a spoonful of their very popular black sesame, peanut or almond cream in your mouth (like they do wine, except you don’t cock your lips, breathe through the mouth and screw your expression!) and you realize how consistent it is. The texture is comfortably thick, not lumpy, smooth and very fragrant.. His black sesame cream actually has wok hei (breath and fragrance of wok heat) and comes in with a sinister matt dark grey sheen. The little granite grinder (like those you see in old China documentaries on TV) at the back of this stall is the first giveaway of a hint as to what is expected.

He tells and shows me, “the black sesame seeds have to be fried till each seed sears just before they get burnt. They will turn brittle and exude all its flavours.” I pinched it and it just crumbled and turned into dust, and an intense fragrance escaped, all ready to be grounded, sweeetened and creamed.

Secondly, you see bit of leaves and soft twigs floating on his green bean soup. “ They are stink leaves called raku to the Malays, and the Cantonese believe they are very cooling and it sits very well with the green bean.”, and he went on to show me a sprig of it and it was actually very fragrant (to me at least) and was very agreeable in the green bean soup. I looked closely at the soup and spotted little flecks of dried orange peel and was reminded that only a master hawker can introduce such contradicting flavours and textures in a brew and deliver harmony.

Thirdly, visual. He whips up about only eight items each day and they are very neatly presently atop a stainless steel custom made steamer tray.

They constantly stir to spread the heat and texture and it is placed higher and nearer to you than usual to command your attention and alert the senses. Very clever presentation trick.

But fortunately for him, discerning Canto dessert fans flock to his stall regularly. Some have been doing it since he started out with his late mother at a roadside stall in Temple Street more than twenty years ago. He has no need to buy the dessert powders from a salesman who once approached him and immediately left after seeing the granite grinder at his stall. I witnessed it.

To keep the jaded palate at bay, he introduce special flavours on weekends. His Peranakan wife Siew Khim help create some Nonya lemak style (coconut milk laced) sweet green bean and taro stews and also yam-sweet potato paste. Occasionally they’ll whip up bowls of sweet skewed eggs, much like the Hong Kong steam ginger eggs except they sweeten it with honey. It was way smoother than any chawanmushi I’ve had in Japanese restaurants.

His secret,” Just make a honest day’s living and don’t fool customers, they’ll always return happily and will feed us with enough for us to enjoy our day off hobby…scouring the island on our scooter for good spicy food like nasi padang.”

Any recommendations for them?