Heng Hwa Cze Cha

Address 276 Race Course Rd Extra 1 Eating House

Opening Hours 11.30am – 9.30pm close every first and third Wednesday of each month

“Heng Hwa people are very expressive. They speak their mind, show you what they think and if you are nice to them, they are nicer to you but if you piss them off, they send you a knuckle sandwich.” so says Mr Li Jin Kun, a Heng Hwa native from Putien, China.

Over an interview with him, it seems he can’t wait to share his little success story- of his failed eatery venture in China and his desperate trip here ten years ago for a chance at better tomorrow. Of how, as a qualified construction site security and safety officer, living off $16 a day, he struggled and saved to bring his wife and family here. Today, his son is serving national service and his daughters are studying in top government schools here. They are proudly Singaporeans now.

“The construction work was tough, hard labour and long hours. I could not adjust to the weather and food and I almost gave up until my uncle here told me that if I worked hard in Singapore, I will succeed. I won’t die.” said the 43 year old, with a proud and loud gold chain dangling around his neck. He noticed that the Jalan Besar area was a little Heng Hwa ghetto of sorts. There were already a few Heng Hwa restaurants around the area, but the taste did not remind him of home, were too pretty and the food was bastardized for the local palate.

“Which is why the local Hokkien lor mee is a brown gooey mess and taste nothing like the ingredients used in the stock. Even the yellow noodles are all wrong. We don’t use those noodles back home,” he sincerely complained. The Hokkiens come from a neighbouring province in Fujien. So he decided to pick up the wok again, and set up a little stall in a gruff Jalan Besar corner coffee shop in 2001.

But his food though, is gentler than his determination. The flavours are simple, clean and the only hint of a desperate background comes in the presentation…they simply pour and push the food off the wok onto the plate, roughly garnish it, and it heads for your table.

As an “anchor” tenant in the coffeeshop, his regulars throng the place and almost everyone orders their signature Heng Hwa lor mee. He uses the classic white Chinese wheat la mien (pulled noodles) made with a recipe he created for his supplier to resell back to him. It doesn’t have the light alkaline taste present in yellow noodles. His not so gooey lor (stock) is made with pork bones and chicken, boiled over 4 hours. Every bowl of lor mee is individually cooked and he further flavours the stock by stewing it with three layered fatty pork, vongole clams (la la), prawns, mushrooms, cabbage and carrots.

The whole dish actually looks quite bland and harmless. But it reminds me of chicken rice- how something looking so plain can be so deceiving to the palate. And at three bucks a bowl, it fills you up. At least 200 bowls flow off his wok everyday.

The other firm regulars’ favourite is the taukee kailan (tofu skin with kailan). It’s like a peasant’s delight, sweet crunchy kailan tossed in wok with the perfect meat supplement, tofu skin and simply topped with crispy fried garlic. It is an easy dish that is not so simple to cook as juggling the wok and controlling the fire is what makes or breaks it. Mr Li’s children now help out and can handle the wok effortlessly.

Another favorite of mine there is the fried sliced mackerel. It is a dish cooked in almost every home, even the Indians deep-fry them with masala. But the version here is as simple as simple can be. They thinly sliced them, salt it a little and fry them till it’s crispy outside and juicy inside. They plonk it on a plate with the cursory coriander garnish and serve. It looks un-appealing on its own but when eaten together with their signatures, it is very hearty and robust.

If the palate dares, take on their red mushroom tofu soup. This brownish red mushroom is a Putien signature ingredient. It has a light sourish and chalky taste but it goes so well with the chunky hand torn pieces of tau kua in the reddish soup with clams and cabbage.

But Mr Li is a businessman; he is not a stickler for purity till it alienates the local foodies. Tell him you can’t live without chillies and sambal, something strange to folks from Putien, and he’ll churn out sambal clams, with a spicy recipe he learnt from his regular local clients.