The future of the Singaporean chef

Business Times

a day ago

[SINGAPORE] Nicolas Tam's journey as a Singaporean chef is an all-too-familiar tale, but with a storybook ending. Young, ambitious and full of creative energy, he wanted to open his own restaurant but could find no investor willing to put money on a local talent. Eventually, one took a gamble and helped him open his restaurant, Willow, in 2022. It paid off. By 2023, Willow had a Michelin star.
Nicolas Tam of one-Michelin-starred Willow. PHOTO: WILLOW
While he joins other Michelin star compatriots such as Han Li Guang, Malcolm Lee and Jason Tan, Tam is a rare success in a dining scene where Singapore-born chefs have barely made a dent despite the city's international status as a culinary destination.
Unlike, say, Bangkok, Tokyo and Seoul – thriving gourmet hubs boasting legions of home-grown chefs lauded for their work with local ingredients and heritage – Singapore is largely dominated by foreign-born chefs, who have been credited with raising the bar and adding vibrancy to the local dining scene.
Whether this puts local talent at a disadvantage is a topic for debate. Among other things, Singaporean chefs struggle with identity issues, and winning over diners or investors who are more enamoured of their 'imported' counterparts. As one pundit quips: 'When a Japanese man touches a slice of fish with his bare hands, it becomes gold. But when the hawker doesn't wear a mask, the diners complain to SFA (Singapore Food Agency).'
At the same time, a beleaguered food and beverage (F&B) industry – marked by restaurant closures, chefs dropping out to work in other fields or move into private dining, and the high costs of running a restaurant – further reduces the talent pool, making it even harder for existing and new chefs to thrive.
' Local chefs sometimes have to work harder to prove their ideas are worth backing, especially if they're trying to do something that doesn't fit neatly into existing categories. '
—
Wee Teng Wen, founder of The Lo & Behold Group
However, rewards await those who persevere, as in the case of Tam, who prides himself on being 'one of the few true-blue Singaporean chefs who worked from the bottom to where I am, in my own home country and in spite of all challenges'.
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Investing in local talent
That investors are skittish about putting money on local talent goes without saying. Tam notes how he had approached two F&B groups with his idea for Willow, but did not hear from one and was rejected by the other for being too young.
His luck changed when he met Lim Kian Chun, then in the early days of Ebb & Flow Group, but even he 'had doubts about me, being local and unproven'. After much convincing, Lim invested a modest amount, and the rest is history.
Wee Teng Wen, the founder of The Lo & Behold Group who is known for his support of local talent, observes that 'it's not always a level playing field' when it comes to restaurant investment.
'For a long time, chefs with international experience or big-name mentors tend to get more attention, as larger hospitality players tend to rally around something familiar or already validated. Local chefs sometimes have to work harder to prove their ideas are worth backing, especially if they're trying to do something that doesn't fit neatly into existing categories.'
Law Jia-Jun, chef-owner of Province. PHOTO: PROVINCE
'There is pressure to prove that my food can be seen as comparable or equal to that of non-Singaporeans, especially those who are known at home and abroad,' says Law Jia-Jun, who opened his restaurant, Province, in 2023.
'Like it or not, platforms like the Michelin guide shape public and investor perception, and most of the Michelin restaurants here are helmed by foreign chefs.' So far, no Singaporean chef-fronted restaurant holds more than one star, and this feeds 'a certain perception about who is 'worthy' of recognition'.
Province serves progressive Singaporean cuisine. PHOTO: PROVINCE
He recalls a recent conversation with another chef who had plans to open an izakaya. 'Their investors felt that it would be easier to market the concept if it were fronted by a Japanese chef. That struck a chord with me, because it seems like there's something about Singaporean culture that is unsure how to value things if there isn't some foreign pedigree burnishing its credibility or desirability.'
Defining a Singaporean chef
For veteran chef Han Li Guang of the one-Michelin-starred Labyrinth, it has been a long journey of 11 years to evolve as a Singaporean chef. Even today, there is still a stigma about paying a premium for what locals see as 'mod-Sin', or elevated hawker food.
'While Singaporeans are becoming more receptive to modern ways of interpreting heritage food, it's not to the extent of Seoul or Bangkok, where the population is much bigger,' says Han.
Also, Thai and Korean cuisines have longer histories as well as more defined characteristics and flavours, unlike Singapore cuisine which is 'all over the place'. It is 'very hard to nail down, but at the same time, there's a lot of content out there, and that's what helps to keep Labyrinth unique'.
He notes that skills-wise, Singaporean chefs score highly, thanks to the many Michelin-starred restaurants that give them the exposure and the training. What they lack is Asian cooking skills, which Han gripes is missing from culinary schools – which still emphasise Western techniques.
' It seems like there's something about Singaporean culture that is unsure how to value things if there isn't some foreign pedigree burnishing its credibility or desirability. '
—
Law Jia-Jun, chef-owner of Province
'I had two young chefs who quit after three months because they were trained in French cooking and couldn't get used to using a wok. So they wanted to return to their comfort zone,' he says.
Which begs the question: Who is more Singaporean? One who is inspired by their roots, or one who rises to the top ranks of highly acclaimed Michelin-starred restaurants?
The two are not necessarily mutually exclusive, says Law, who feels he would consider himself a Singaporean chef even if he had chosen to stay in a Western kitchen instead of striking out on his own with Province.
He acknowledges he has chosen a more 'difficult' path because 'there is no clear blueprint for what we're trying to do. But that's also our mission – to discover what Singaporean cuisine is and develop an approach to cooking at a fine-dining level that is more local and regional'.
Ng Guo Lun, head chef of Jaan by Kirk Westaway. PHOTO: JAAN
For Ng Guo Lun, his achievement comes from making his way up from kitchen assistant at Willin Low's Wild Rocket after national service, to head chef at the two-Michelin-starred Jaan by Kirk Westaway, working next to its eponymous chef-owner.
While other chefs have helped to shift mindsets about local food, 'I've chosen a different path, but not because I don't believe in Singaporean cuisine'. 'This is what I want at this point in my career, which is to excel in the kitchen while expressing my own style in other ways,' he adds.
Winning the hearts of Singaporean diners
While progress is still slow, 'there's a growing appreciation for chefs who are rooted here and have something original to say about Singaporean food', says Lo & Behold's Wee. A case in point would be the group's newest restaurant, Belimbing, helmed by 'new-gen' chef Marcus Leow.
Marcus Leow of Belimbing. PHOTO: BELIMBING
'The response has been a lot better than expected,' says Leow, whose cuisine explores local recipes and South-east Asian ingredients. While he agrees that there is pressure on Singaporean chefs to reinterpret local cuisine, 'it gives me stronger motivation to get better at what I do'.
Grilled firefly squid at Belimbing. PHOTO: BELIMBING
Perhaps one of the biggest success stories would be Mustard Seed, the counter-only, perennially booked-out restaurant run by Gan Ming Kiat. The chef, who has won hearts with his unique version of Singaporean food with a Japanese accent, was recently joined by fellow local chef Desmond Shen – well-known for his innovative cooking style.
Gan Ming Kiat of Mustard Seed. PHOTO: KERRY CHEAH
'Running a business with honesty and sincerity goes a long way,' says Gan of his success from Day One. 'When we started, there weren't many modern Singaporean tasting menu-style restaurants around, so we were able to start strong and build on that momentum.'
Candied orange kuih bingka at Mustard Seed. PHOTO: KERRY CHEAH
Schooled in kaiseki and Peranakan cuisine, he credits his training in Asian rather than Western kitchens for creating a cuisine that 'hits the sweet spot of being tasty and creative enough without being too intellectual'. 'Singaporeans relate to this better.'
Market realities and carving out a niche
While Gan had a first-mover advantage, 'to come out and do something of your own now is definitely much harder than when I first started out', he says. 'You're dealing with higher costs, increased diner expectations, a highly competitive dining scene, and also a dismal post-Covid climate. Dining out is now a lower priority.'
MJ Teoh of the heritage-inspired Native got a full reality check when the restaurant closed down after three years, even though the original cocktail bar remains. One of the few female chefs in Singapore, Teoh laments that 'one of the mistakes we made was not to differentiate ourselves from the bar, because people thought we just did bar snacks and didn't bother to give us a try'.
MJ Teoh, former head chef of Native. PHOTO: MJ TEOH
She adds: 'We weren't making enough money and the rent was way too high. Amoy Street is very competitive and in the last few years, we noticed people are just not spending as much. A lot of us in the industry felt the shift – sales were down even in bars that were thriving.'
MJ Teoh's cooking is inspired by her heritage. PHOTO: MJ TEOH
Teoh is part of a cohort of young chefs who are trying to find their way in this uncertain climate, even going through a period of soul-searching. She was so burnt out, she says, that she stopped working for a few months. Recently, she started giving pasta-making lessons and does private dining in client's homes.
The plan is to start a dining space in her own home and while she is not ruling out running a restaurant again with a new investor, she questions if it is a practical move in the current climate.
Growing the talent pool
While market uncertainty has led to attrition as chefs leave the industry completely to embark on totally different careers, the numbers enrolling in culinary schools have grown, says Ian Goh, a culinary arts lecturer at the Institute of Technical Education (ITE).
Ian Goh, culinary arts lecturer at ITE. PHOTO: IAN GOH
'Cohort-wise, we've been seeing a consistent rise in the number of students enrolling in our culinary programmes,' he says. 'Over the past few years, there's been a noticeable shift where more (young people) are interested in building long-term careers in F&B.'
The change was apparent after Covid-19, when home-based businesses sprouted up. That taste of entrepreneurship, Goh says, spurred their interest in making a career of it.
The challenge, he adds, is matching chefs' passion with the realities of the industry – namely 'long hours, high pressure, and sometimes, toxic work environments'. Despite more work-life balance in some progressive kitchens, 'the industry still has a long way to go'.
But he is also seeing how the younger generation is 'redefining what it means to be a culinary professional', going beyond conventional cooking to explore 'food styling, research and development, sustainable food systems, entrepreneurship and even food history'.
Plus, there are platforms for local chefs to shine, says Nicola Lee, the South-east Asia academy chair for the World's 50 Best Restaurants guide as well as its Asian equivalent. While her role pertains to the voting for the guides, she is a staunch supporter of local talent.
' Investors today are increasingly interested in strong, distinctive chef-driven narratives, regardless of nationality. What matters is the authenticity of the story and the quality of execution. '
—
Veteran chef Ace Tan
Besides Han Li Guang and Jason Tan, pastry chefs such as Cheryl Koh of Tarte and Louisa Lim of Odette have been recognised among the 50 Best recipients, along with Janice Wong.
ITE's Ian Goh was also the 2022 winner of the San Pellegrino Young Chef Academy for Asia. Not to mention the Singaporean chefs making waves overseas include Kenneth Foong of Noma (Denmark), Mathew Leong of Re-Naa (Norway), and Jimmy Lim of JL Studio (Taiwan).
The way ahead
'We need to show that cooking local food, especially at a higher level, is a viable and rewarding career path,' says Wee of Lo & Behold. 'Young chefs often gravitate towards other cuisines... because of what they're exposed to or (because) certain cuisines are more globally recognised, and that makes hiring for local restaurants an even bigger challenge.'
He adds: 'To shift that mindset, we need to spotlight chefs doing meaningful work with local food and show that there's creativity, depth, and a future in it. Visibility helps, but it needs to be matched by structural change. That includes reforming culinary school curriculums so local cuisine is taught with the same rigour as European cooking.
'We also need to shift the conversation from preservation to innovation, and cultivate an audience that's curious, open, and willing to value new expressions of Singaporean food.'
For veteran chef Ace Tan, who launched his Chinese-inspired restaurant Asu last year, the key is not to pigeonhole the definition of a 'Singaporean restaurant'.
'It's more accurate to consider it as a Singaporean chef presenting their interpretation of Asian, cross-cultural cuisine. The landscape has evolved significantly since I started this path in 2015 (with the short-lived Restaurant Ards) – there's now a growing appetite and appreciation for contemporary Asian concepts across East Asia,' he says.
'Investors today are increasingly interested in strong, distinctive chef-driven narratives, regardless of nationality. What matters is the authenticity of the story and the quality of execution.'