The Peranakan restaurant boasts a comprehensive menu but could up its game with more refined dishes.

The Peranakan #02-01, Claymore Connect@ Orchard Hotel Tel: 6262-4428 Open daily 11am to 10pm IF you know of a lost Peranakan soul who gave up his colourful birthright for a life of monochrome minimalism, take him to The Peranakan. It will be fun to watch him break out in hives in this wonderfully over-the-top amusement park of Nonya kitsch – which looks like someone opened the trapdoor of a bibik’s attic and emptied all its contents onto the second floor of the new Claymore Connect shopping mall. Fabrics of every-colour batik are draped over chairs and tables in the “patio” area which is only for drinks. Be careful though, in case one of the seats you pick turns out to be an actual bibik dressed in a sarong kebaya. Avoid possible confrontation by sitting in the spacious dining area, which is an equally psychedelic experience with walls plastered in blue- and-red kebaya print, and enough antique mirrors to ensure you never forget what you look like.
If you have a chandelier fetish, you’ve come to the right place – the ceiling looks like a halfway house for runaway lighting fixtures. And we haven’t even mentioned the display shelves of blue-and-white crockery, tiffin carriers, kettles and thermos flasks. Or the golden carved ornaments stuck on black pillars. While there’s a visual buffet of delights to entertain you, the food is a different story that we hope will have a stronger ending if given a little more time. It’s only been officially opened for about a week, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a real bibik go into the kitchen and turn up the heat. If she did, she would have a go at the kitchen’s prawn peeler for washing the flavour out of the pale, tired-looking tiny specimens that accompany the platter of kueh pie tee (S$20). That works out to S$2 a pop for 10 oily but crispy fried shells that you stuff with a pleasing filling of chunky strips of tender braised turnips. It’s a pity about the shrimp, but the pie tee tastes just as good without them, especially with a dollop of chilli sauce. Crispy-skinned ngoh hiang (S$15) is one of the better bets, with deep-fried beancurd skin that’s shatteringly crisp yet stretchy enough to roll around a loosely packed filling of five-spice seasoned minced pork and water chestnuts that gives you plenty to get your teeth into. The tough bits of pork liver throw you off your chewing rhythm though, so we suggest the prawn version instead. The bakwan kepiting soup (S$9) is comfortingly piping hot with tender, sweet and juicy pork and crabmeat balls in a clear prawn/crab stock filled with generous strips of bamboo shoot – it starts off well but the prawn flavour becomes overwhelming mid-way through. A pork-based broth would give it more depth. We next wander into a gravy-or-meat debate with both the Ayam Buah Keluak ($19) and Kaki Babi Pong Teh ($19) – both stalwarts of the Peranakan table. Gravy-wise, the former boasts a very acceptable earthy, savoury kick from the long stewing of chicken and Indonesian black nut with its distinctive muskiness. It’s too mild though – a half-hearted kick rather than the assertive wallop that demands copious amounts of rice. But if you want any meat to go with your gravy, we’re afraid the chef has destroyed any evidence of chicken, leaving you with a plateful of stringy remnants and bone shrapnel. The trouble with both these dishes is that the meat has to give way to the gravy, so you invariably end up with either dry stringy chicken, or pork in the case of babi pong teh – but here it’s taken to the extreme such that even the pig’s trotters (a fattier alternative to normal pork shoulder) has every ounce of fat cooked out of it into the sticky rich gravy bolstered by dried mushrooms, leaving just bones and scraps of paper-dry meat. We’re used to a nice balance between meaty chunks and gravy, so we gather someone left the pot on a little longer than necessary. Oddly enough, the food in The Peranakan has us barely breaking a sweat, even with generous lashings of sambal belacan, which packs good heat even if it looks tired, like it’d just emerged from an MRT breakdown. Meanwhile, the Nonya favourite stinky beans or petai (S$12) instead of being stir-fried in sambal, gets an odd salad treatment – served cold and bland in a dressing of kicap manis and onions. Fail. The same with the assam pedas fish head (S$27), which takes its tamarind concept so seriously that you taste nothing else – a thick puree of blended onions and sour assam that absorbs little flavour from the not-so-fresh fish head. It would have been nice if the servers – pleasant and otherwise helpful elderly gents – could be a little more opinionated about the food to make some firm recommendations. We’re belatedly told by others who have eaten there that the chap chye, itek tim and satay babi sam chan (pork belly) are very good so it’s a shame we’re left to our own devices to randomly pick from a very comprehensive menu. For dessert, there’s little to pick from as most of them aren’t available, but the pulut inti durian (S$5) is an enjoyable ending of glutinous rice (rough textured rather than smooth and pliable) topped with creamy durian sauce. While the kitchen could use a good bit of bibik nagging to get the food up to a more consistent level, we like the idea behind The Peranakan. It’s a genuine tribute to this rich heritage, and it can’t get more colourful than this. Rating: 6.5
WHAT OUR RATINGS MEAN 10: The ultimate dining experience 9-9.5: Sublime 8-8.5: Excellent 7-7.5: Good to very good 6-6.5: Promising 5-5.5: Average Our review policy: BT pays for all meals at restaurants reviewed on this page. Unless specified, the writer does not accept hosted meals prior to the review’s publication. Source:

Nonya twists

Hipster cafes and celeb eateries may dominate foodie headlines, but traditional Peranakan cuisine has been steadily thriving under the radar, quietly evolving to suit the palates of a younger generation. ALMOST every morning, Bob Seah wakes up early and heads to the wet market for seafood, followed by a trip to Geylang Serai to pick up spices and herbs. He then goes into the kitchen and spends the next two hours cooking up a storm. It’s a ritual that this Peranakan patriarch has kept for the past 30-odd years, ever since he started Peranakan Inn in Katong in 1985. Except now, Mr Seah runs more than just one establishment – he has four. This sprightly 75-year-old is the founder of House of Peranakan Group of restaurants, which has outlets in Katong, Frankel Avenue and the Tiong Bahru area. He is one of the few pioneering Peranakan restaurateurs who have built a reputation for serving authentic dishes in all their hearty, saucy glory. Their restaurants used to draw round-the-block queues back in the 1980s and ’90s, but since then business has just been chugging along steadily, except for a surge in 2008 following the popular Channel 8 drama series The Little Nyonya. Many see these older restaurants as recession-proof businesses, but Mr Seah acknowledges the need to adapt this heritage cuisine to suit both the worldly palates and fickle whims of Singapore’s youth. “We want to make the cuisine accessible to a new generation of customers,” he says. Which is why his latest casual concept – Tok Panjang Peranakan Cafe, which launches this week along East Coast Road – serves bites and set meals at lower price points of S$5 to S$11, albeit still made from scratch from traditional recipes. He even allows his daughter Bee Leng, 38, to update some of his dishes, even though he is personally resistant to the idea.
“We have a lot of discussion – even arguments – because my father doesn’t believe in fusion food or serving watered-down dishes,” says Ms Seah. Nevertheless, compromises have been made, with dishes such as a “scallop lemak” (S$26) made with premium shellfish instead of fish cake – a hit with younger customers. They aren’t the only ones who have evolved their food over the years. Blue Ginger Restaurant (founded in 1995) boasts cleaner, sleeker flavours while being rooted in authentic home recipes. “We use less oil and salt where possible, and reduce the level of spiciness slightly,” says Susan Teo, 62, one of the original founders. Ingredients such as petai beans or chinchalok are also avoided or downplayed, as they are acquired tastes, she adds. Such tweaking is done with care however, because like many others, Ms Teo believes that some things are just not to be messed with. “Traditional cuisines have longer lifespans, compared to fads; we can modernise the look and presentation of the dishes, but never compromise on the taste,” she says. That’s why when they decided to expand two years ago with a casual, younger brand, they went with the rice-bowl concept May May that mixes Japanese, Korean and Chinese influences with local ingredients. “We moved away from Peranakan food for such a modern Asian concept because we don’t wish to mess with traditional recipes,” says Ms Teo. Other players however, take a far bolder approach to modernisation. For instance, Japanese eatery Ippin Cafe Bar recently added Peranakan-Japanese dishes to their menu. Consulting chef Philip Chia keeps the Nonya dishes recognisable, but replaces ingredients with Japanese components, such as dashi instead of fish stock for the laksa, or miso instead of taucheo (fermented soya bean paste) for the pong tahu (beancurd meatball soup). These tweaks are inspired by Japanese home cooking, which often adapts foreign cuisine by making dishes healthier. However, chef Chia draws the line at messing with Peranakan spice pastes, which he says must be properly fried. “The spices cannot be compromised. A rempah has to be a rempah,” he says. Similarly, chef Malcolm Lee of the modern Peranakan restaurant Candlenut has no qualms about making things like buah keluak ice cream – as opposed to the famous Peranakan black nut stew – as long as it adds up to a better experience for his guests. And the fact that his six-year-old restaurant still hits full capacity most nights is testament to the adventurous appetites of diners here, he says. “I think it’s just about having an open mind. If the traditional method works, and creates the best flavour and texture, then do it. If modern techniques allow you to create better tastes or textures, then do that. There’s no limit to how far you should innovate. At the end of the day, we just have to put something that is tasty on the plate,” says the 32-year-old. While chef Lee opts for culinary innovation, others are changing the business model entirely. Zan Ho, 32, is the third-generation owner of restaurant Dulukala, and he’s adding scalable concepts to the family business. While he doesn’t mess with traditional recipes at their 17-year-old flagship, he has opened franchisable brands such as O’nya Sayang in 2011 at Tampines Mall, and Nya Nya Cafe at International Plaza in February this year. These concepts boast streamlined business models and lower price points – a central kitchen supplies to both. “How many people of my age, in my generation, know how to cook Peranakan food, and if not, what happens next?” muses Mr Ho, who spent three years in the kitchen before taking over the reins. “I think everybody has a very bad impression of expanding and scaling Peranakan food, but I always explain to them that if you don’t, how many restaurants will survive in the next 10 years? It’s about striking a balance and keeping the culture alive,” he says.
The Peranakan Claymore Connect, #02-01/17 442 Orchard RoadOpen 11am-10pm daily Tel 6262-4428 Raymond Khoo has dabbled in French, Indian, and Spanish cuisine during his 30 years in F&B, and even hawker food concepts such as Rasa Singapura in Macau. But this 52-year-old Peranakan chef and consultant has never whipped out the family recipes, not until now. Just this week, his latest project, simply named The Peranakan, opens at Claymore Connect. This 130-seater spans about 3,000 square feet, a S$600,000 investment that returns the entrepreneur to his roots. “I’m semi-retired and getting bored, but I was thinking I should do one more cuisine for the books,” says Mr Khoo, who has been cooking Peranakan dishes for friends and family for 10 years. It took a fair amount of convincing before the bibiks in his family would relinquish the recipes. “If you want to learn, you watch – if you touch anything in the kitchen, they will scold you for spoiling their dish,” he laughs. “Every Peranakan household has different palates and recipes, and any true-blue Peranakan will insist that their mom’s cooking is the best.” That’s why he sticks to the family recipes, no gimmicks or fusion elements allowed. “I won’t serve a salad with a rendang, or do wagyu rendang, which spoils both the wagyu and the rendang.” Expect soups such as itek tim (duck and salted vegetable; S$7) and bakwan kepiting (crabmeat, prawn and meat balls with bamboo shoots; S$9), or classic mains such as udang gala rempah nenas (prawns in pineapple gravy; S$27) and satay babi (pork belly satay; S$19). There are also sharing platters called “tok panjang” menus (referencing traditional long-table banquets) at S$45 and S$65. These feature signature items like ngoh hiang, kueh pie tee, beef rendang, and even nasi ulam, a cold rice and herbs salad that’s rarely seen these days – even in Peranakan restaurants. While Mr Khoo keeps the recipes traditional, he’s also come up with degustation menus at S$188 or S$288 (requires one-week advance booking) to cater to the corporate crowd. “Some have told us excitedly that they can finally entertain their clients with local food here now!” he says. He hopes these tasting menus will also draw foreigners and expatriates. It’s all about plating and portioning, while controlling the direction of the tasting, he says, which makes the cuisine less intimidating for foreign palates. “Sometimes, foreign guests may love the dishes but they get overwhelmed with all the flavours in communal Peranakan dining, and they don’t know what they are eating,” says Mr Khoo, who is in fact prepping the restaurant for an American couple’s wedding next week. Future plans include Peranakan cafes in the vein of Toast Box or Hong Kong cafes, with dishes averaging S$10. “Peranakan is going casual, going hip, and it’s becoming more accessible,” says Mr Khoo. “Currently, you can only have say, buah keluak if you go to a proper restaurant. With a cafe concept, you can have buah keluak any time.” Expect playful spins at these cafes, such as coconut linguine instead of coconut cream in traditional desserts like pulut hitam or chendol. By Tan Teck Heng Source:

The Peranakan, Salted & Hung, Greg’s Seafood Shack, Yunnan Garden Restaurant, UsQuBa

peranakan14 1 THE PERANAKAN For a hearty Peranakan meal, head to The Peranakan at Claymore Connect. Tuck into a Tok Panjang – a Peranakan feast marking special occasions – which offers a variety of dishes. It is priced at $45 or $65 a person. Diners can also opt for the individually plated six-course degustation menu ($85 a person, minimum six people, book a day in advance). For a more decadent meal, complete with wine pairing, go for the Chef’s Table ($188 for lunch, $288 for dinner, minimum eight people, book a week in advance). Highlights from the menus include pig trotter pongteh ($19); rempah nanas ikan, a fish cooked in thick pineapple gravy; and Sum Chan satay ($19), pork belly fried in rempah and served on a plate rather than presented skewered and grilled on sticks. Familiar classics include a kueh pie tee set ($20); liver ngoh hiang ($15); bakwan kepiting soup ($9); and assam pedas fish head ($27). Where: Claymore Connect, 442 Orchard Road, 02-01 Open: 11am to 10pm daily Info: Call 6262-4428 or go to