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Rising rents threaten the future of heritage restaurants
Rising rents threaten the future of heritage restaurants

Straits Times

time05-07-2025

  • Business
  • Straits Times

Rising rents threaten the future of heritage restaurants

SINGAPORE – Chew Kee Eating House boasts a claim few restaurants can these days. It has sold the same dish at the same unit in Upper Cross Street for 76 years, passing from one generation to the next in an unbroken line of succession. The vagaries of modern business, however, mean that the future of the purported birthplace of soya sauce chicken in Singapore now hangs by a thread. Its lease expires later in 2025, and third-generation owner Thomas Ho is not ruling out the possibility of calling time on the family business. 'We're not sure about the future, we'll need to see what our landlord does. If rent increases and the cost of ingredients continues to go up, there's only so much we can increase the price of food to keep up,' says the 40-year-old, whose rent has gone up by 18 per cent in recent years. Heritage trades like his are on edge amid rising rentals, the more drastic of which have booted out businesses like Flor Patisserie in Siglap Drive, whose landlord wanted to raise rent by 57 per cent. Amid the maelstrom of uncertainty, The Straits Times speaks to four multi-generational restaurants to find out how they are coping, and what will be lost if they succumb. Traditional trades, modern problems Pricey ingredients and pricier rents weigh down most food and beverage businesses in Singapore. But keeping up with the pressures of the present is arguably more onerous for heritage restaurants, which are also obligated to keep one eye on the past. Mr Ho, for one, is held back by tradition when it comes to revising prices. A standard plate of Chew Kee chicken noodles used to cost $4.50 in the early 2000s; it is $6 today. 'Our regulars remember how much it used to cost and we don't want this food , which is supposed to be affordable, to become a burden to them,' he says, adding that he last raised prices by around 50 cents a serving four years ago. The ghost of times past similarly haunts Mr Iszahar Tambunan, the third-generation owner of nasi padang restaurant Sabar Menanti, which traces its roots to a pushcart along Kandahar Street in the 1920s. 'A lot of customers say they used to be able to get a plate of nasi padang for $6, but after I took charge, it started costing $10. But this place wasn't turning a profit when I took over,' says the 46-year-old former ship broker, who started helping out at the North Bridge Road restaurant in 2014. 'I told my mother we needed to change the perception of customers that nasi padang had to cost a certain price.' Chew Kee Eating House third-generation owner Thomas Ho and his mother Madam Yu Lye Kuan at their coffee shop in 8 Upper Cross Street. ST PHOTO: GAVIN FOO Through social media campaigns, restaurant merchandise and greater publicity – Sabar Menanti is one of several institutions featured in the National Heritage Board's Street Corner Heritage Galleries initiative, for instance – he has gradually expanded the restaurant's clientele. Office workers and families now dine alongside long-time regulars. Staying nimble has kept his family's business alive. Over the past century, it has inched its way through Kampong Gelam, moving first from Kandahar Street to 747 North Bridge Road in 1986. The next move came in 2020, when high rent forced it down the road to 737 North Bridge Road. It moved into its current unit – 719 North Bridge Road – in 2023, after the previous landlord sought more than double the original rent. The requested monthly total of over $15,000 nearly crippled the business for good. 'I told my mum it's not going to work any more. My plan was to shut it because she didn't want me to sell it off to somebody else,' recalls Mr Iszahar. Sabar Menanti owner Iszahar Tambunan (first from left) and his family have tried to modernise the business with merchandise referencing popular dishes. ST PHOTO: SHINTARO TAY In this case, he was eventually rescued by a more accommodating landlord. Still, he worries. 'I always have this fear about what will happen when my lease ends . I can only leave it to fate for now .' According to Mr Nicholas Mak, chief research officer at property search portal rents in districts like Chinatown and Kampong Gelam are especially volatile because of limited supply. Boundaries are fixed and shophouse units limited, so a buoyant market and high demand often skew the market in favour of landlords. Plus, with the additional buyer's stamp duty rates now fixed at 60 per cent for foreigners, some family offices are turning their attention to commercial properties instead. Mr Zaki Maarof, chairman of One Kampong Gelam, a community organisation that aims to enliven the district, estimates that 20 to 30 per cent of the conservation shophouses in the precinct are now owned by foreigners. 'They're entitled to buy whatever they want to, but it's a shame that many of them don't feel any affinity for the place and don't care about what happens to its heritage,' adds Mr Haffidz Abdul Hamid, 64, who manages Kampong Gelam-based travel agency Halijah Travel. Chinatown is not the vibrant sea teeming with local businesses that Mr Ho remembers from his childhood, either. Many home-grown outfits such as Lee Kui Teochew Restaurant and Onn Kee Hakka Yong Tau Foo have since called it quits, and a red wave has engulfed the district. Chew Kee now sits sandwiched between a Hong Kong rice noodle restaurant and North-eastern Chinese kitchen. Hard to move elsewhere So, why not just move? That is the common refrain these business owners hear when they voice their woes to friends and customers. It is not an entirely unfair question. As Mr Iszahar himself has discovered, more affordable pastures lie farther afield. In 2025, he opened Surya – a healthier, high-tech offshoot of Sabar Menanti named after his late sister – in a Henderson Road foodcourt. 'Surya is more sustainable right now because it's in an industrial area, so the rent is more reasonable,' he says. It does not help that footfall in Kampong Gelam has dropped, with many tourists passing through only briefly, opting to eat and sleep in Johor Bahru instead, he says. He has considered moving Sabar Menanti to a more cost-effective waterfront shophouse in Boat Quay, but ultimately decided that it would not feel right. 'Kampong Gelam is where we started. If I have to end it, I'll end it here.' Chew Kee, too, is inextricably intertwined with its neighbourhood. 'We're so entrenched in Chinatown. People know where to find us, they associate us with this area. I want customers to be able to sit here and get a sense of how it all started,' says Mr Ho. Not to mention the logistical hurdles. Mr Iszahar faces a mass exodus every time the restaurant packs up and moves. He quips: 'Staff don't want to be part of the moving crew. Moving a house is already crazy. Moving a shop is even worse.' Mr Cedric Tang, 40, managing director of 30-year-old zi char joint Ka-Soh, is also at a crossroads. At its peak, his family ran six Ka-Soh outlets, including the original, Swee Kee Eating House, in Amoy Street. But the 82-year-old fish soup store shuttered in 2021, and they are now down to their final unit , a restaurant in Greenwood Avenue. Mr Cedric Tang, third-generation owner of Ka-Soh restaurant, examining several heritage items, including the abacus his grandfather once used to tally bills. ST PHOTO: BRIAN TEO Even that, Mr Tang says, is on its last legs. He is drawing a reduced salary and describes current profits as 'borderline', just enough to break even – a far cry from the 30 to 40 per cent profits the company pulled in decades ago. Though he expects rent to rise again when his lease expires in the third quarter of 2025, moving may not necessarily solve his problem. For one thing, the cost of renovations could amount to $200,000, a tall order in this economy. 'When we move the restaurant, we need to move the equipment, and all our stoves are custom-made. They may not fit the new restaurant. The exhaust , for example, is another $20,000 to $30,000; you can't just take it and move,' he says. Just as painful would be losing the customers they spent the last five years cultivating. 'Quite a lot of our customers are regulars who live nearby and come here two to three times a week for comfort food . If we lose that segment, it'll be hard to sustain this business,' he adds. For Mr Park Tan, the 37-year-old chef-owner of Indonesian Restaurant Pagi Sore in Telok Ayer, the Covid-19 pandemic drained resources that might otherwise have enabled him to consider moving. Mr Park Tan now runs Pagi Sore, founded by his mother Liyana Kwan in 1989. ST PHOTO: LIM YAOHUI With so many memories threaded through the physical space of the restaurant, founded by his mother Liyana Kwan in 1989, the prospect of letting go feels like an amputation. At the moment, business is still sustainable, but he does not know when another wrench will be thrown into the works. 'If possible, I'd like to keep renewing the lease because this is a second home to me. I've been here longer than I've lived in my HDB flat. This is where I grew up, where I chopped my first fish, washed my first vegetables. It was even where I held my wedding dinner when I got married .' Why not innovate? Sentiment, for these restaurants, is a double-edged sword. Dr Kenneth Goh is associate professor of strategy and entrepreneurship and academic director of the Business Families Institute at SMU. He notes that these businesses often operate with legacy cost structures, operating models and business models that are deeply tied to a past era. 'That's part of their charm, but also a constraint. Unlike newer establishments, which can pivot more easily to adopt leaner models or reach different market segments, heritage restaurants are often stuck in time. 'Adapting means more than just tweaking a menu. It involves reimagining the entire dining experience – how food is prepared, presented and delivered, and by whom .' The fear of corroding his mother's legacy has held Mr Tan back from making too many changes to Pagi Sore's recipes. He staunchly sticks to cabe kering, her preferred type of chilli, even though they cost twice as much as alternatives. 'I'm okay giving up profitability to maintain things the way they are. What's at stake for us is different. Regulars remember how the food used to taste and they like it this way,' he says , adding that nothing brings him greater satisfaction than feedback that his cooking tastes just like his mother's . Mr Tang with Ka-Soh's signature dish, sliced fish soup with thick bee hoon, at its Greenwood Avenue outlet. ST PHOTO: BRIAN TEO Mr Tang and Mr Ho are also sceptical about incorporating too much technology into their work. Some of their dishes require skills honed through years of practice – skills that cannot simply be replicated by a robot. Mr Tang cites the example of Ka-Soh's Golden Dragon Chicken, a delicate and laborious dish that involves removing the skin from the chicken whole, dehydrating it, and then slathering it in prawn and sotong paste. In the words of Mr Ho, the tongue is the best tool. 'I used to work in the kitchen, so much of the tasting was done by me. It's a very instinctive process that I grew up learning.' It is this old-school, homespun quality that is the bedrock of Chew Kee's appeal. 'People want to see that display of craftsmanship, so we can't fully automate the noodle-making process. They need that assurance that they're getting a certain standard and quality.' But Dr Lye Kit Ying, a senior lecturer at the Singapore University of Social Sciences, whose research interests include cultural heritage, argues that evolution does not necessarily mean forsaking tradition. 'Evolution, to me, means to adapt and change in a way that allows the traditional knowledge of the dishes and the communities built along the way to make sense to the current generation. New traditions are made to complement existing traditions and values,' she says. And indeed, these restaurant owners have had to make concessions along the way to keep pace with a changing world. Mr Tan, for example, has swopped regular beef for Angus brisket to meet the rising expectations of diners in the centre of town, as well as scaled back on salt and monosodium glutamate . However, his rempah – that cornerstone of Indonesian cuisine – remains unchanged. On the manpower front, shift times are now shorter, taking into account the growing aversion to long working hours. Mondays at Pagi Sore have been halved, with the restaurant dropping the less profitable dinner service to let staff rest. 'I was different; I was raised for this. But you have to understand that this might not be everyone's passion,' he says. Pagi Sore's Mr Tan tries his best to retain the taste of his mother's cooking. ST PHOTO: LIM YAOHUI While the food served on site still cleaves to tradition, Mr Tang and Mr Ho have expanded their businesses by rolling out ready-to-eat versions of their signature dishes. Mr Ho even collaborated with Singapore Airlines to launch his chicken in the air. For Mr Iszahar, who was unwilling to sacrifice the charcoal depth of Sabar Menanti's rendang by giving up its six-hour slow-cooking process, the solution was to park his modified meals under a different brand altogether. Surya retains 80 per cent of the North Bridge Road menu, but prepares food with modern equipment to save time, and pairs it with healthier side dishes like stir-fried okra and egg bittergourd ($1.50 each). What Singapore stands to lose Some 3,047 F&B establishments were culled in the annus horribilis of 2024. Death, never one to discriminate, claimed old and new, relaxed and refined. Closures are a natural part of the industry's life cycle. But when establishments that have been an enduring part of the cultural landscape vanish, diners lose more than just a place to eat at. In SMU's Dr Goh's view, these restaurants 'remind us where we came from'. 'Heritage restaurants are living links to our history. These are places where stories are passed down through the dining experience, and where a sense of continuity with the past is preserved.' One Kampong Gelam chairman Mr Zaki remembers the days when the neighbourhood was crowded with songkok makers, basket weavers, kueh sellers and other handicrafts. That, he says, was when the spirit of Kampong Gelam could be felt most palpably. 'We need to bring back those heritage trades to add more colour and more vibrancy,' he adds, warning that the district, with its rows of hipster cafes and Arabian restaurants, is in danger of over-gentrification. For the heirs of these proud culinary institutions, closure packs a personal punch. In these cases, it is never as simple as cutting one's losses and starting afresh. 'It's quite sayang (wasted),' says Ka-Soh's Mr Tang. 'I've always felt like a brand, especially a heritage one, needs to outlive its owner. It's also about legacy planning – I feel the responsibility to hand it down to the next generation.' Besides, surviving two closures in the last five years, only to capitulate now, is too painful to contemplate. But his family will not be the only ones to rue the loss of the restaurant. Long-time customers like Mr Aaron Chan, 39, are also loath to bid farewell to an establishment that has become so entrenched in their weekly routines. 'Even now as an adult, I 've made it a point to drop by every now and then to rekindle my childhood memories dining at Ka-Soh,' says Mr Chan, a public servant , whose family patronised the Swee Kee branch in Amoy Street every other Saturday when he was growing up. Mr Ho singles out this 'ren qing wei' or human touch as the secret ingredient. 'These days, you have soya sauce chicken everywhere, but what makes us unique are the familiar faces. Some of them come in and don't even place an order. They just say, 'you know what I want.'' Therein lies the significance of these decades-old businesses, according to Dr Lye. 'The celebrations of milestones and life events at these family restaurants through the years offer us opportunities to see how private, familial narratives contribute to the larger Singapore story.' Moreover, she points out that their ties to suppliers and customers translate to an established community identity that some newer businesses simply do not have. At Chew Kee Eating House, few diners refer to a physical menu when placing their order. ST PHOTO: GAVIN FOO Still, restaurateurs like Mr Tang need to be practical. 'At the heart of it remains the question, can my family survive the losses? I can't sacrifice my family for the sake of its brand. I have to put the people first. ' Likewise, Mr Ho is not ruling out the 'inevitability' of selling to an investor. 'We need someone who has the supply chain connections to manage cost and streamline our business model. As small entrepreneurs, there is only so much we can do without compromising taste .' He is open to the idea of scaling the business, as long as the expansion plans do not dilute the quality of Chew Kee's signature chicken. Rectifying the rental problem Mr Chew is not the only one unwilling to let businesses like his go gentle into that good night. The Government has tried to square the circle in a variety of ways, most recently with the SG Heritage Business scheme, which doles out support in the form of increased visibility, marketing aid and help to tackle specific business needs and challenges. The scheme, which is being piloted in the central area, is open to businesses which have been continuously operational for at least 30 years and exhibit community and cultural significance. Mr Muhammad Hazmi Zin, 42, managing director of 71-year-old nasi padang chain Rumah Makan Minang, says any attempt to remedy the situation is appreciated. 'Hopefully, better marketing will help Gen Z and Gen Y to understand our food culture and increase revenue. A lot of children grow up eating fast food and don't know about our existence.' Mr Tang, on the other hand, hopes that the sphere of eligibility can be expanded, so businesses like his can benefit too. He also stresses that more concrete change is needed to tackle deep-rooted problems like financial non-viability. In response to a May 2024 Parliamentary question about how to preserve the cultural identity of places like Chinatown, Kampong Gelam and Little India, the Ministry of National Development (MND) said it was working with community partners to encourage landlords to support heritage trades. When all the stars align, such arrangements yield a win-win situation for both landlord and tenant. Take, for example, the case of Rumah Makan Minang, which rents its Kandahar Street unit at a price slightly below market rate from the Muslimin Trust Fund Association (MTFA). 'Our organisation is one of the oldest Malay Muslim organisations in Singapore – we turn 121 years old this year – so a respect for heritage is baked into our DNA,' says MTFA president Abdul Rahman Mohd Hanipah, 42. On his part, Mr Hazmi makes it a point to take good care of the property, handling internal maintenance or minor repairs himself. 'This gesture allows us the breathing space to sustain and grow the business. It's a relationship built on mutual respect and understanding, and I deeply appreciate that.' These arrangements, however, are few and far between. Though MND said in its reply that organisations like One Kampong Gelam and Kampong Gelam Alliance (KGA) have worked with community stakeholders and the Urban Redevelopment Authority to match businesses with landlords who are open to supporting traditional uses, a KGA spokesman told ST that based on ground engagement, such accord is rare. Even for those who currently have the good fortune of reasonable rent, the thought of returning to the negotiating table does not inspire much confidence. 'It's a situation that makes it very tiring to do business because you don't know how much room there will be to negotiate, and when the landlord will stop valuing us as a heritage brand,' says Pagi Sore's Mr Tan. Mr Tan hopes Pagi Sore Indonesian Restaurant can continue operating in Telok Ayer Street. ST PHOTO: LIM YAOHUI To effect lasting change, The Singapore Tenants United for Fairness, which represents more than 700 business owners, is advocating for a reform of the landlord-tenant dynamic. Among its proposals are a new rent structure that places more weight on rental that is a variable percentage of sales, rental renewal caps that factor in inflation, and measures to prevent landlords from leaving shop spaces vacant for more than three months. 'We urge the Government to work on both increasing the supply of good retail spaces in both government- and private-managed properties and also allocate more of such supply to social-oriented private entities like co-operatives,' adds a spokesman. Beyond subsidies or rent control, Dr Goh suggests that the Government could boost heritage trades by acting as a market facilitator. For instance, by catalysing coalitions of heritage businesses as part of curated heritage or tourism experiences. 'This would enable them to reach new customer segments willing to pay a premium for authenticity, effectively aligning their heritage value with areas where demand is strongest.' Who will take over next? But when business has always been a family affair, there is one more piece that needs to fit into the puzzle: the matter of who will take over next. Mr Iszahar's twin children are 13 years old and already displaying the shrewd business sense needed to thrive in this cut-throat industry. 'My daughter Isabella likes to be a boss, and my son Luca has more business acumen – you can see it in the way he negotiates with people . They'll be a good match if they ever want to run Sabar Menanti.' Sabar Menanti owner Iszahar Tambunan (centre), with his wife Lena Kamarudin (second from left) and their twins Luca (first from left) and Isabella Tambunan. He inherited the restaurant from his mother, Madam Maryulis Marlian (seated). ST PHOTO: SHINTARO TAY As for whether Mr Tan's five-year-old daughter will follow in his footsteps, he is not holding his breath. 'By the time she's ready to take over Pagi Sore, F&B might not be very sustainable,' he muses. 'But it would be nice to have a third generation. This business was started by a woman, and I'd love for it to come full circle, and for my daughter to inherit her grandmother's strength and grit.'

6 top urban heritage tours in Asia, from Kyoto and Seoul to Singapore
6 top urban heritage tours in Asia, from Kyoto and Seoul to Singapore

South China Morning Post

time19-02-2025

  • South China Morning Post

6 top urban heritage tours in Asia, from Kyoto and Seoul to Singapore

Published: 6:15am, 20 Feb 2025 Heritage is defined as 'valued objects and qualities such as historic buildings and cultural traditions that have been passed down from previous generations'. As such, it's no surprise that some of the most popular city tours and work­shops aimed at inquisitive foreign visitors, in Asia as elsewhere, are those that focus on history and local traditions. 1. Manila, the Philippines The Unesco-listed San Agustin Church in Intramuros, Manila. Photo: Shutterstock A tour on a Bambike constructed by a Bambuilder and led by a 'bambassador'; the Philippine bicycle maker and operator of Bambike Ecotours may overdo the puns, but there's little doubt that a turn around Manila's most historic quarter is more fun on a machine made of bamboo. Intramuros (Spanish for 'inside the walls') is the Philippine capital 's oldest neighbourhood, having been built around Fort Santiago, established by the Spanish in the late 1500s. As well as cobbled streets, leafy plazas, hidden court­yards and houses dating back to the colonial period, highlights of a 2.5-hour Bambike tour of Fort Santiago and the wider Intramuros area are the Unesco-listed San Agustin Church, the 18th century Revellín de la Puerta Real de Bagumbayan fortifications, the 16th century Puerta del Parian and the opposing statues of Spanish king Charles IV and independence hero Dr José Rizal. Tours in a group of between five and 10 people cost US$35 each. 2. Singapore Chew Kee Eating House in Singapore. Photo: On-A-Roll-Tours On-A-Roll-Tours has perfected travel aboard a vehicle with wheels even smaller than a Bambike, its evening excursions around Singapore by kick scooter giving the company its name. But it's one of its walking tours that is gaining the most plaudits. Guests led by lawyer-turned-entrepreneur Yeo Yen Ping on the 3.5-hour Historic Chinatown Tour learn how immigrants left China in search of a better life and found it in Singapore, where they established clans to look after one other. The tour takes in temples and shrines, the sites of once-thriving Chinese opera theatres, brothels and opium dens, street art and premises devoted to still operational traditional trades. Included in the price is lunch, which is taken at one of two traditional soy sauce chicken restaurants – Chiew Kee Noodle House or Chew Kee Eating House – which have been rivals since 1949 and are a few doors apart, on Upper Cross Street. The Historic Chinatown Tour costs S$62.88 (HK$363) per person. 3. Kyoto, Japan

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