Latest news with #Sichuanese

Straits Times
2 hours ago
- Straits Times
Food Picks: Chengdu Bowl's flagship at Changi Airport offers Sichuan dishes with a speakeasy concept
SINGAPORE – Chengdu Bowl, a new self-styled speakeasy at Changi Airport Terminal 3, makes a half-hearted attempt at secrecy, disguised as it is behind a suspiciously flat vending machine stamped with the label 'pull'. Too bad the set-up is undermined by the fact that you can turn the corner and walk right into the restaurant anyway. Its gaping side – presumably meant to be concealed by an as-yet-underutilised curtain – beckons the trickle of diners who find themselves ambling around this corner of Terminal 3. Then again, no one seeks out Sichuan food for the intrigue. What diners come for is flavour – vivid, bold and bright. Crammed with enough spice to consign one to the toilet for the next half hour. And that it indeed delivers. Chengdu Bowl, which has three branches in the Central Business District, has swopped out its grain bowls for sharing dishes like la zi ji ($22.80). Mala xiao la (small spice) orderers, beware: This is not for the heat-shy. It pinches, it numbs. It parts to reveal pillows of cheesy rice cake, which offer some textual variety but do little to slow the burn. On the less potent side of the spice spectrum, assorted skewers are steeped in a piquant red chilli oil ($14.80), chicken is soaked in a bold mala broth and served with ramen noodles ($16.80) and beef sizzles on a hotplate ($23.80), its caramelised fat rendering into kailan and oyster mushrooms. But Chengdu Bowl does not want to be defined by firepower alone. As its menu proves, there is more to Sichuanese cuisine than la zi ji and mapo tofu. The silky prawn with luffa in golden broth ($26.80), for example, is a masterclass in how to deliver flavour without resorting to violence. Mom's homemade rice pot from Chengdu Bowl. PHOTO: CHENGDU BOWL Mom's homemade rice pot ($32.80) – a stodgy porridge of abalone, prawns and diced vegetables that is good for four or five diners – dabbles in similar flavours, but leans slightly towards the sweeter side. All in all, it is a hearty upgrade from Chengdu Bowl's usual offerings and a welcome addition to Changi Airport's culinary roster – with or without the clandestine thrill. Where: Changi Airport Terminal 3 Departure Hall, 03-21, 65 Airport Boulevard MRT: Changi Airport Open: 11am to 9.30pm daily Info: Check out ST's Food Guide for the latest foodie recommendations in Singapore.


Malay Mail
15-05-2025
- General
- Malay Mail
In Cheras, Fang Hong Curry Mee serves up a little bit of everything — from curry mee, to Hakka ‘zha yuk' and Sichuanese stir-fried pork and peppers
KUALA LUMPUR, May 15 — At a glance, Fang Hong Curry Mee looks exactly like what its name suggests: a curry mee joint. But it is also so much more. Housed in a quiet row of shops facing a residential area in Taman Sri Bahtera, Cheras, the first signs that there may be more than meets the eye are the large tables, some with lazy susans and tablecloths, and rows upon rows of laminated pictures on the walls depicting a repertoire far wider and deeper than just curry mee. There are steamed, fried or braised fish heads, slick with tauchu and bitter gourd; chicken steamed in a herbal, gingery broth; and large plates of braised pork belly, tofu, and curry fish head. Some dishes are old-school Malaysian-Chinese dai chow staples. Others are distinctly Chinese and lean Sichuanese in both spirit and heat, a reflection of the woman running front-of-house, who hails from the province. And yet, for all the variety, the curry mee remains the anchor. It's the name on the signboard, the default order, the thing that still draws first-timers and regulars alike through the door. There's the signature 'king' curry mee (RM16.80), loaded with hunks of chicken and taufu pok, then piled high with squid, prawns, fish cake and cockles. The regular curry mee comes with fried 'fu chuk' and 'siew yoke', though the curry broth is clearly based on chicken curry. — Picture by Ethan Lau The regular version (RM10) is more restrained but no less satisfying, topped with siew yoke and fried fu chuk alongside the usual chicken and taufu pok. What both share is the same rich, thick broth. It carries a mild, lingering heat and leans a little sweet, though it's not overly creamy or heavy with coconut milk. There's none of the shrimp-y savoury depth or herbaceous lift you'd expect from a typical curry laksa – in fact, this might be the furthest thing from curry laksa I've ever had, while still calling itself curry mee. What it almost certainly is, at heart, is chicken curry – potatoes and all – with noodles and toppings thrown in. But it's a very tasty chicken curry, and the jar of sambal on the table offers a quick savoury boost, curiously rich with the flavour of dried shrimps. Fang Hong is popular with regulars from the neighbourhood, all mostly old. — Picture by Ethan Lau On a recent afternoon, the air was thick with the rowdy cadence of Hakka, spoken by a crowd of regulars streaming in, the overwhelming majority of them seemingly over the age of 50. The chef emerged briefly, a short, balding man who spoke a mix of Cantonese and Hakka and seemed to be on a first-name basis with several of the regulars, before disappearing back into the kitchen. Soon, dishes began to appear. Sichuan-style 'xiao chao rou' is as fragrant as it is bold and delicious, and is a hit with the regulars. — Picture by Ethan Lau Some, like the Sichuan 小炒肉 (xiao chao rou, RM28), filled the room with a heady perfume of Sichuan peppercorns, red and green peppers, leeks and onions, wok-fried with thin slices of pork belly. It's the kind of dish made for rice – punchy, fragrant and deeply moreish – and it's easy to see why the regulars have embraced it. Other dishes are closer to home, like the Hakka zha yuk (RM25), a speciality of the chef and a triumphant balance of soft, jiggly pork belly and wood ear fungus, springy and slightly rubbery, in a savoury sauce boosted with nam yu, red fermented bean curd. The chef here specialises in a few Hakka dishes, including braised 'zha yuk'. — Picture by Ethan Lau Taking us home were a pair of tried and true classics: sweet and sour pork (RM22) and claypot kangkung (RM14). Serviceable versions of both are easy enough to find elsewhere, but they were especially good here. The craggy, crispy nuggets of pork were coated – not drenched – in a thick, tangy sauce, retaining their crunch to great effect. And the kangkung, while seemingly plain, was nothing to scoff at. Even plain old claypot 'kangkung' is well-executed here. — Picture by Ethan Lau Crunchy, juicy and packed with dried shrimp, it was a quiet winner. It's a curious one, for sure. A rather unique rendition of curry mee, the Sichuan stir-fries, Hakka stews, textbook sweet and sour pork – but the regulars don't seem to mind. If anything, they've taken it in stride, eating without missing a beat, as people do when the food is good, and they know they'll keep coming. Look for the plain but easily spotted yellow sign. — Picture by Ethan Lau Restoran Fang Hong Curry Mee 47, Jalan Jalak, Taman Sri Bahtera, Kuala Lumpur Open Friday to Wednesday, 7am-3pm and Friday to Sunday, 5.30-9pm Tel: 018-278 8699 * This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal. * Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems. * Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more musings on food and mildly self-deprecating attempts at humour.


South China Morning Post
17-02-2025
- Entertainment
- South China Morning Post
Girls on Wire: Wen Qi shines in Vivian Qu's uneven genre blender
Published: 10:30pm, 17 Feb 2025 3/5 stars Girls on Wire is first and foremost a showcase of Wen Qi's versatility. In the film, which premiered at the 2025 Berlin International Film Festival on February 17, the Taiwanese actress originally known as Vicky Chen Wen-chi gets to emote as a maternal big sister, brood like an embittered avenger and go airborne and underwater as a swordswoman; she also switches between Sichuanese dialect and Mandarin with aplomb. But what perks up Wen's performance creates pitfalls for the film's director, Vivian Qu . Trading in tropes drawn from family melodramas, film noir and martial arts movies, Girls on Wire is inconsistent in tone and convoluted in its storytelling. Qu's decision to unfurl the narrative using two intertwining timelines makes it more a blend of incoherent ideas than an inventive genre mash-up. Filmed in Chongqing, southwest China, the film begins with Tiantian ( Liu Haocun ) locked in an underground cell, where she receives a heavy kicking and a forced injection of drugs at the hands of her captor. After a violent struggle, she accidentally slits the man's throat before fleeing.