I thought we could have done better as a little dynamic chilli padi nation which always benefit from tomorrow by taking advantage and learning from our past. But instead, unfortunately, the authorities moved on to fine Mr Sheik Allaudin Mohideen $9000 for his folly in the Indian rojak food poisoning case and took away his license to sell food (perhaps selling Indian rojak was job he’s known all his life). It also was in line with common public expectations, “apa, dua orang mati, $9000 fine only” (what, only $9000 fine for two deaths), was what I overheard in the crowd when I revisited their newly reopened (just about a week old) rojak stall at Geylang Serai market, now bossed by Mr Allaudin’s wife and sons (he is not allowed to operate in nor help out at the stall).

I am very sure the man has learnt his lesson and had one year (that whole year when he was charged and under investigation) of worry, regret and fear hanging over his mind. My heart goes out to the very unfortunate victims and may they find peace, forgiveness and closure to the saga. But I thought the authorities could have turned adversity in advantage by making Mr Allaudin, instead into a living symbol or at least a mascot for food hygiene in Singapore. He would now be the best person to go on a road show or give talks to old school hawkers about the importance and diligence of responsible food handling, as he now understands well, just how and why hygiene in operations is a trust customers naturally give to food vendors here and no one must betray it. The National Environment Agency, which runs the hawker centres, are constantly finding new ways to impart and retrain older license holders about the importance of hygiene in food handling and this second life, not second chance, would be a breath of fresh air in their campaign. Don’t turn him into a hero, nor parade him like thief, but instead, position him as a calling and wake up shout to the industry. I pondered all this while waiting 30minutes in line for the rojak in a queue that’s 30 people thick.

The 30 people long queue was there all morning till lunch time,
when I was there on a Sunday

When my turn came, I was fixated at the makan and observed just how perhaps this could be the cleanest Indian rojak stall in Singapore now. The stall was shiny, floor was dry and quite clean, the display shelves were polished and the 20 or so items we clearly segregated and held in stainless steel food containers. The food handler was constantly changing his plastic glove. Impressive, but the tongs dangling and touching the food could potentially cause a problem (tongs with stewed offal sauce were touching the fried dough balls, but it could be easily remedied). I remembered just how good their rojak was before, when we first rated them in our Makansutra food guide ten years ago. So I offered Mr Allaudin’s son a smile and was just about to ask “ brother, now this rojak the same as last time or not”, when sanity queried the stupidity of the question. Then I came up with another about how business was and realized it was just as silly (the queue was now 35 thick when I was at the top), and unrelenting. At about $5 an average portion (about 5-6 pieces) multiplied by the block of 30 people long queue since 9am each day, and multiplied by 26 days of operation - well you have an idea, even if you factor in slower weekday business.

It’s now much cleaner and shinier than I remembered but the
used tongs were still touching the food.

I ordered about eight items, mostly the own-made or cooked ones which included coconut and plain dough ball, stewed limpa (beef spleen), fried paru (lungs), chilli potato, and egg tempura. They were well fried and looked lighter yet had that crispy edge (they refreshed the cooking oil more often this time) but it was a tad blander than I remembered. The coconut dough ball did not give me that rich, sinful sensation. And their signature stewed spleen (about the only folks that offer this in such stalls), did not induce thoughts of mile long swims or runs to neutralize the cholesterol it came with. But the soft, creamy and powdery offal was still a delight to devour especially when dunked into the all important distinct pink, sweet, spicy, nutty and sour sauce which was alas, a tad more diluted and gentler than the old thicker and meaner version.

Their Indian rojak is still hearty, complete with their signature stewed beef spleen slices, although I think they have not quite found their new footing as they’ve only been back for a week.

Then, I noticed a bottle of red colouring at the back of the stall, used for stewed cuttlefish and the sauce. They lost some points from me there. Overall, I’ll say the Geylang Serai Indian rojak is back, but not completely back up on it’s feet just yet.