A new old Mee Pok Tah man |
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He once operated a mee pok stall in Toa Payoh Lor 5, and many foodies still ask for the “Toa Payoh Lor 5 mee pok” today. And when your little humble stall is associated to an area and is regarded as some sort of a landmark there, you know you have arrived. Eric Chia was once the main cause of traffic slow downs along that little street before the hawker centre there was refurbished. The supper crowd would inconsiderately park streetside style and pop over to this stall for a quick fix of mee pok. (I was once guilty of that stunt there before).
And as his cashier was buzzing in at its busiest, he called it quits in the early 2000, after over two decades in the business. This, just before he set up shop in our former Makansutra’s first food court, Soulfood, at the Biopolis. Eric went into hibernation mode for five years citing “fatigue, jadedness and the need to find a sign for new beginnings.” He let his childhood friend take over his spot in Toa Payoh, inheriting his recipe and goodwill. So this primary school dropout who, in the 80’s took on the only job he liked then, by slogging and learning under established noodle masters like Ah Lam of Ah Lam Noodles, drifted onto odd jobs like taxi driving and even dipped his skills into MLM (multi level marketing) stints. And in the middle of this year, he saw that sign. A corner pre-war terrace shophouse off Jalan Besar standing prettily behind a “One Way” street sign. The location was perfect- “near but not inside CBD, and lots of street parking around” because Eric knew that his $4 noodles would have that kind of appeal to “this kind of makan crowd.” - the type that was always on the move or working in areas fringing the CBD. He and his partner plonked in up to $90,000 for renovations, with additional seating on the second floor. So, was there that five-year-slack in quality. “It’s a new menu and new recipe and I do have buah kelauk in the sambal now.”, and with that, Eric was renewed with fresh energy for the venture citing “this is not a tribute to my old self nor my former mee pok sifu.” So what replaced that black nut. “I realized that I did not like that “earthy-nutty” flavour” so he simply concentrated on fixing his sambal with that perfect rendition of belachan, lard, chilli, dried shrimps and ‘very importantly, shallots and garlic.” All this, from a primary school educated cook, who knew that the main reason in this business, was to please customers. He has now also found a mee pok supplier who could provide a noodle that was more “Q” (resilient and springier).
That’s not all, he knew about esthetics and value for money, so his basic bowl of mee pok tah ($3 and $4) now comes nicely presented with in-shell scallops, prawns, lean pork, liver, minced meat and fish cakes. And if you gravitate towards the grand $7 version, it smiles at you with an extra whole crayfish, slit down the middle. While such extravagant methods to please is not new for hawkers (Ah Lam already offered a decade ago), Eric knew it works. Some internet foodies are taken in with the “scallops and crayfish topping” and feels it’s “so unique” that some think it is a branch from Malaysia. One bite into Eric’s mee pok tah and many can give that nod, the nod that pleases him to no end because “that’s what it’s all about”. The chilli base is pleasant with no sting nor any distinct accents like too much hae bi (not too bad a thing), chilli, garlic or lard. He blanches his noodles for exactly 36 seconds and has a timer sited just above the boiling stock. It was consistent, over the three separate occasions I’ve had it (I filmed it for redemption just in case I get the roll-eye “yea right” look, and will put it up on our website soon). All the ingredients came fresh but the scallops were the frozen species, so eat it first when it arrives, it firms up quick when it sits for too long. But judging from the approving nods of the quick in-and-out crowds there, you can understand why Eric will “still sell mee pok tah, even if I have a university degree”.
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