Mention “Dunman Road wanton mee” to informed foodies and a few superlatives come as standard accompaniment associated with this stall – “the chilli can die”, “wait damn long”, “every time sold out early” and “wah, best part is the free flow crispy lard!”. That would have been true over a year ago, but that is not technically correct today.

Praise the Lard for those “healthier” bits of
lard cracklings on Thomas’s (Eng’s) version

You see, we had all been talking about Eng’s Wantan Mee all this while, but a little saga developed some time ago and today, Dunman Wantan Mee would not quite illicit the same superlative responses from those same eaters. The location of this famous stall underwent what I call the “hotspot boogie” dance. The same dance that escalated into the Katong laksa war, the similar jostle that sent the popular Sungei Road laksa swirling out of their original location to another nearby and the same boogie that the Adams Road nasi lemak twisted to. It’s the partner/boss/landlord-up-the-rent-ridiculously-to-boot-you-out-so-they-take-over-and-attempt-the-the-same-song/dance-at-same-spot routine. They leverage on the innocent and blur customers who swears by their friend’s recommendation or that once trusty GPS coordinates that was up in the web over a year ago.

But in Eng’s Wantan Mee’ story, boss Thomas Ng “call me Ah Eng”, has a slight twist to his hotspot boogie. He started at a street cart stall helping his late father, nicknamed “Panjang wantan mee man” to residents around Duku Road, some half a century ago and was relocated to this food centre in the 70’s. He partnered a fishball noodle stall holder and switched to selling his very popular wantan mee. Things headed south two years ago when he fell and broke his ankle while receiving deliveries. “ I went for operation and had to rest six months, so my partner say she take over meanwhile, as life has to go on” and Thomas also recalls he never taught her the recipe to this secret weapon – the chilli sauce. “But when I came back, they said they wanted to discontinue the partnership and changed the signboard to Dunman Wantan Mee, selling that same noodle.” He was of course disappointed (put mildly) and quickly extracted his old signboard and all his equipment and installed it in another stall in the basement a couple of months later, taking the opportunity to advertise his “return” with banners around the food centre.

The same-same but not quite same version from Dunman Wantan mee.

Ok, back to the makan. To the uninitiated and the casual, both noodles can come across as “same la, no difference”, unless you have them side by side in one sitting, which was what I did. You immediately notice the chilli first, which Thomas notes “I did not teach her the chilli sauce technique.” The sting in his sauce comes simple from dried chilli powder, salt and sugar and a special ingredient he made me swear not to tell. Then you notice the signature noodle texture (they both use a thicker mee kia)-both comes loose, firm, soft and resilient, but clearly, Thomas’s version has that edge. It is just a more controlled blanching method which better allows the soy sauce and lard to seep in later.

His char siew is the thin-pink-Singapore-inc style which does not personally float my boat. That huge tub of self service perfectly crispy lard crackling is still daring you at his shop front. Fear not, just heed Thomas’s wise saying “it’s healthy la, the oil fry until gone already, this is just crispy pork keropok.”, if you dare. His wantan is old school style- crumply little balls stuffed with marinated minced pork and a hint of fat which he advises, “order the dry wantan better” which I did and it did not disappoint. The wantan skin stood soft and firm and did not wither, like so if you had them sitting in a hot bowl of soup.

He reminds me about his operation hours, “from 3pm to ..good luck and god bless to you”, as his last plate can be dished out as early as 7pm or at even at 9.30pm.