There is Parma ham, Katong laksa, Bali coffee, Ipoh hor fun, New York cheeseburger, Changi nasi lemak and even the famous Peking duck, all iconic dishes and flavours that conjure up a soulful connection at the mere mention of it. Notice how all are named after places or cities. I suppose it’s a kind of geographical branding or association that proud folks of the land resort to when they come up with genius in the kitchen. Or that appreciative customers just have a need to pigeonhole a dish they like by geographic compartments in their heads – maybe their brains is like a world atlas of flavours, people and cultures. Like mine.

So, what, when you create a fried beehoon dish, take that trouble to brown it nicely with savouries like bits of meat, dried shrimps, eggs, Chinese waxed sausages, and veggies, then leave it to sit on the hot wok. You let it go chow tar with softly burnt edges as you press and mold the beehoon into a pizza shaped dish, and voila, it lures the hungry hordes in , every night. Well, the folks that did this, named it not of the place in Johor Baru (JB) where they created it, but rather, the nickname of the area- San Low Beehoon, or Third Floor Beehoon, as that part of town has many three storied buildings.

70% of customers to this open coffeeshop shack are Singaporeans, who head for the fresh bed of seafood at the side for first pick
before finding a table

The first time I had this dish was at a little cze cha café at a Bukit Timah makan street. It came looking like someone’s tinged brown toupee fell on a wok and onto my plate with fine bits of dandruff and green hairclips, masquerading as ingredients. Yucks. But I was put there for a reason- to declare it safe and not memorable (I really forgot which stall offered it). Then, I had another version at JB Meng, a cze cha stall located in a Geylang back alley – one of those open kitchen coffeshop where you can smell and hear (the clanging of steel spatula on wok) your food. It was good enough for us to grade them “divine”, or 2 ½ pairs of chopsticks in our Makansutra food guide. When I ventured with my curiosity, boss Ah Meng (JB Meng) said San Low beehoon came about when a head chef once threw out their window, a beehoon dish made by a rookie cook. It landed flat, three floors below and that’s where they got the idea for this iconic dish. Yeah, right, so I thought.

The iconic San Low Beehoon, not much of a looker but it was created with taste in mind about four decades ago.

Then I was taken to the mothership last month- San Low Restaurant in JB itself, the birthplace of San Low beehoon. If Joe, my JB makan maven did not lead me there, it would still sit atop my makan to-do list of Malaysia with a question mark beside it. The place is a huge cool coffeeshop shack with no doors and sits about 300 diners easily. The sound and intensity of the open kitchen behind, the nonchalant servers, who look like they never seem to have time for you, yet somehow get your orders out on time - are all signs of a good meal. Ten minute after ordering, they dishes came a rolling in, steaming hot , big portioned and boldly flavoured. The starter crispy battered baby squid came with a piquant and spicy dip and the medium rare sambal cockles, done like I’ve never had before, woke the palate up for what’s to come. The fresh threadfin fish tail that I picked, packed in plastic bag on a bed of ice, was done gracious Teochew style, refreshingly tangy and savoury with mushrooms and salted veggies. What made it good was the “fresh” part. I asked the very shy manager and she offered a “ aiya, don’t say my name la. I worked here nearly forty years and was there when they created the Sam Low beehoon. They just called it San Low because of the area’s nickname.” The dish came huge, very well browned and seared with some tasty but insignificant bits of ingredients. It was not oily and the roastiness delightful with superb wok hei . They cater largely to Singaporeans, almost 70%, says the manager, and they do a mean Singapore style chilli crab of crayfish- thick eggy, spicy, generous in portions. It can put many cze cha stalls here to shame, even though they don’t use the Sri Lanka crustaceans.

The sambal cockles are expertly blanched till medium rare and well cleaned before being doused with the spicy sauce.

Their prices are same as that of Singapore, but in ringgit, so you can bring 2.3 more friends along to party there, and it’s just 20 minutes from the Causeway checkpoint.