Ever so often, my stomach meter goes back to default position –the needle points desperately to “Plain Porridge”. Not those boiled in stock nor laden with century eggs or tempting shreds of meat. Try your curries, oily chicken rice, fried this and that or go with pizza in a stretch for a while, and the tummy screams “PORRIDGE, or else!” Technophobes liken this to a control-delete-escape situation when the computer system overloads and hang. Which was what happened to me last weekend, after my system was uploaded with lamb chops, sashimi, tempura, Nonya noodles, otah otah, Hainanese curry rice and even nasi padang (with a extra serving of black ink sambal sotong).

the joy of simple… steamed crayfish done in its own flavour
and served on its shell

Then a memory flashback – to the corner coffeeshop at Tembeling Road/Joo Chiat Place where we “gatecrashed” them on our Makansutra Raw TV series over a year ago where we filmed without asking for permission ahead. I barely recalled the encounter but I remembered the fresh, steamed on order, soy and ginger threadfin tail, the cold crabs laden with roe, braised duck slices, softly firm soy sauced taukua and taupok, handmade fishcakes (chunky and inconsistently textured)..aiyiyi, all with a bowl of Teochew style porridge where the grains retain its grainy goodness, texture and integrity. I also remembered their name- that it was some difficult to remember Chinese name. Of course I had to head there but was rudely reminded that they were closed not long after we flashed them on prime time TV (trust me, it was not because of the food, but a case of rising fame going hand in hand with raising rents). Then a makan angel named Ing How called and said “ guess what buddy, they reopened just across the street in a newer coffeeshop, as good as they had always been”. I was there in a jiff.

Boss Long Swee keeps an eye on freshness and operations
as he prep your orders.

Xu Jun Sheng (Long Ji) Chao Zhou Mei Shi (now you know why I can’t remember the name easily) had been in the East area pleasing regulars there for over three decades now. And long before Botak Jones, Botak Koh was already steaming fresh threadfin tails and seabass fish heads in the Joo Chiat area. Together with his elder brother Long Swee, who mans the counter, oversees quality and work flow, they never seem to disappoint the weathered regulars who seemingly appear to be the same folks (or at lest they look similar- all with calm and high-expectation expressions) each time I chow down there.

“We took a year off” explained the quiet Long Swee when pestered, “as after the previous landlord raised our rents, we thought it was a sign for us to take a long break.” A new stall inherited their old spot and kept the same look and sold similar Teochew porridge items. The Koh brothers reopened earlier this year just down the road.

A coffeeshop indulgence…braised chestnut duck

Last week at their new premises, after a bite of their first dish of succulently fresh, soft and crunchy herb soy stewed, pork fallopian tubes (sang cheong, at $3), I pronounced “they are back!”. I could not resist ordering their cold steamed cray fish, expertly shelled, shredded chunkily with roe intact and served over its shell with coriander, when I saw Long Swee cutting and cracking one up. It was sweetly divine in its pure unadulterated goodness. My makan kaki Andrew and I had to fight for that sliver of orange roe (we shared it equally). Even their steamed sotong and fatty pork were not dressed up, they just used common sense as the basic ingredient- fresh supplies and perfect timing in the steamer. Just touch them in soy or a dash of plum sauce and I was reminded about the simple joys of Teochew porridge, where a master once told me, almost sarcastically that their art was to “make vegetables taste like vegetables and fish taste like fish.” I relish that, which is why two of the key dishes that always fly off Botak’s steamer and wok is the steamed fishes and flash fried greens (they have a open kitchen for ala minute fried dishes behind the counter), like sambal kangkong or spinach. The steamed threadfin tail made me want to scrape those juicy and gooey grey meat at the tail’s end where skin meet flesh. For the indulgent, they now have fancier restaurant class dishes like stewed chestnut duck (from $16), where the meat was not dry as they don’t nuke them ahead of time and warm it when you order- superb with their grainy porridge.

But before you shoot down over and indulge, here’s one little warning – all that freshness and goodness comes (as they always had) with a little premium in prices, on average $8-$10 per person. But it’s worth every cent.