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Malay Mail
4 days ago
- Business
- Malay Mail
FooTori doesn't chicken out on serving excellent ‘yakitori' in Kelana Jaya
PETALING JAYA, July 20 — In the last decade, the canon of Japanese food in the Klang Valley has grown from simple sushi and ramen places to include specialist tempura, soba and yakiniku restaurants, all executed with notable attention to detail. Even ramen has taken on a new polish, with focused, tightly curated shops emerging across the city. The most dramatic shift? The explosion of small, exclusive omakase-style sushi counters in the past five years, now seemingly everywhere, each offering its own take on refined, theatrical morsels of fish and rice, all for a couple hundred ringgit a pop. But one constant has been the izakaya scene. The allure of ice-cold, crisp Japanese beer, salty snacks and cheap skewers of grilled chicken has always sat well with the Klang Valley palate, with yakitori in particular gaining a strong following. For a while, any loud, rowdy izakaya was the place to find it, aside from longstanding yakitori specialists like Sumi-Ka in SS15 Subang Jaya. But just as ramen and sushi have been given the refined, polished treatment, yakitori is now starting to get the same. FooTori from the front. — Picture by Ethan Lau FooTori, which opened in Plaza Kelana Jaya in May, may not appear to be the epitome of sophistication at first glance. The central grilling area, framed by concrete and glass, feels more like a zoo exhibit than a grand stage for chefs. The rest of the furnishing is similarly austere. Grey exposed concrete features throughout, though it leans less towards industrial chic and more towards 'unfinished' chic. Still, some aspects have clearly been thought through. The air stays remarkably clear, without a hint of smoke. When we left, our clothes didn't carry any lingering scent, and the ventilation system manages all this without a horrid din. Being located in a commercial development as stark as this one probably doesn't help that perception. Three's company: sansho pepper, salt and pepper, and 'shichimi togarashi'. — Picture by Ethan Lau But this is the second restaurant by Chef Foo, formerly of Hinoiri in Bukit Jalil, who has already made this location work for his flagship, Sushi Foo, which is located just a few doors away. Foo spent close to 30 years working in Tokyo, and though he's known mostly for a sincere yet skilled take on sushi, he now intends to bring that same approach to yakitori. FooTori offers three levels of omakase: RM98 for eight skewers, four appetisers and a dessert; RM118 for 10 skewers; and RM138 for 12. It's a helpful introduction for those unfamiliar with the many different parts of a chicken. But for those already in the know, the à la carte menu is full of gems, if you know where to look. 'Kawa' or chicken skin, and 'sasami' or filet. — Picture by Ethan Lau Kawa, or chicken skin (RM6), is a delightful bite, shatteringly crisp and gleefully greasy. But it's the sasami, or filet (RM8), that shows there is more to the cooking here than meets the eye. When a cook places the stick in front of me, he explains that each piece of ghostly white meat is deliberately cooked to 'just done'. The centre is slightly pink, and it is undeniably on the rare side for chicken. He stresses the freshness of the bird being used, though he's happy to cook it further if I prefer. The chicken is still pink on the inside of the 'sasami'. — Picture by Ethan Lau On top of each piece is a daub of wasabi. It's a meaty, tender mouthful, and simply unlike any piece of white meat you will ever experience. I put my trust in the kitchen that night, just as I did nearly a decade ago at Yakitori Masakichi in Tokyo, which had been featured on Netflix's Ugly Delicious. That was the first time I encountered chicken prepared this way, down to the same presentation with the dabs of wasabi and the chicken grilled to medium rare. It was monumental for me then, and it is deeply satisfying for me now to see this becoming more common in the Klang Valley. Hopefully, it points to a shift in how diners approach and appreciate yakitori. Other parts may not require quite the same amount of guts to tackle, but they are no less impressive. 'Momo' or thigh, a second order of 'kawa', and 'obi' or inner thigh. — Picture by Ethan Lau Fans of dark meat will enjoy the momo, or thigh (RM6), and obi, or inner thigh (RM10), each offering a different expression of chicken at its most juicy and bouncy. Bonjiri, or tail (RM8), is essentially the butt, and while it has the potential to taste off, it's been prepared well here, retaining just enough fat for flavour and cartilage for crunch. On the topic of cartilage, the nankotsu or soft bone (RM6) is the ultimate stick for texture. 'Nankotsu' or soft bone and 'leba' or liver. — Picture by Ethan Lau Crunchy, snappy and perfect for dipping into the sansho pepper, salt or shichimi togarashi mix, cuts like this are what make yakitori such a good match for guzzling down pints of cold beer. It would be remiss not to mention the lush leba, or liver (RM8). Grilled with just a small hint of sweet tare, it avoids the unpleasant metallic notes of iron and leaves only a rich, creamy texture to enjoy. A calling card for any 'yakitori' place is the 'tsukune' or meatball. — Picture by Ethan Lau And finally, no yakitori place can be taken seriously without considering its tsukune, or meatball (RM6). FooTori's is tightly packed, with a slight crust from the caramelisation of the tare on the outside, and is a dream to dip and swirl through the raw egg yolk and sweet, salty tare mixture. At a glance, FooTori probably looks unassuming as all get out. A closer look reveals an attention to detail that belies its decor, and a mastery of preparation and technique that can only come from experience, something Foo, an older man who's done his time, wears plainly. But that's the whole idea: a simple, unpretentious set-up, from which he serves excellence. At a time when yakitori is starting to stretch beyond cheap, by-the-numbers izakaya food, FooTori arrives to stake its claim, particularly by not chickening out from serving 'rare' chicken. If this is where things are headed, I'm all for it. FooTori ぷ鸟 B-08-1, Plaza Kelana Jaya, Jalan SS 7/13A, Petaling Jaya, Selangor. Open Tuesday to Sunday, 5pm-12am Tel: 010-256 2279 Instagram: @foo_tori * 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.
Malay Mail
10-07-2025
- General
- Malay Mail
Head to Puchong's Sha Sha Noodles for a unique Chinese-style mashed potato noodle
PUCHONG, July 10 — In an age run by cold, unthinking algorithms, even the deeply human idea of food hasn't been spared from the increasingly crowded fight for eyeballs in the attention economy. For every comforting, decades-old family recipe that endures, three more gaudy, Frankensteined creations designed to be eaten through a screen come alive. Most don't last, but the few that do tend to share a few things: they're usually just a small tweak on something familiar, they're easy to grasp, and most importantly, they're actually good. With centuries of development, Chinese cuisine and, by extension, Sichuan cuisine are often seen as deeply rooted and time-honoured. Dishes like mapo tofu trace their origins back hundreds of years, while others, such as the now wildly popular suan cai yu, were only created as recently as the 1990s. With the rise of the Internet and increasing Westernisation in China, a new wave of street food has emerged that looks quite different from what it was before. These dishes are starting to appear here, with some quickly finding favour with the Malaysian palate. Look for the bright red 'Shasha mee' store sign. — Picture by Ethan Lau Enter Sha Sha Noodles in Bandar Puteri Puchong. Opened in August last year by a twenty-something Chengdu native, the shop specialises in a dish of mashed potato noodles. That's right, mashed potatoes, like the Western-style kind, served over wheat noodles similar to thin pan mee, and topped with a zha jiang style pork mince sauce. As far as I can tell, the earliest mention of the dish (土豆泥拌面, tudou ni banmian in Mandarin) goes back to late 2023, but it began to go truly viral on Chinese social platforms in 2024. Similar dishes featuring potatoes and noodles have existed before, such as 洋芋凉面 (yangyu liang mian), which features fried chopped potatoes in Sichuanese cold noodles, but this particular version relies on the starchy qualities of mashed potatoes to thicken the sauce and coat the noodles. So what does this viral hit taste like here? A bowl goes for RM14.90 and arrives looking deceptively simple: a pile of yellow mash, minced pork and a single blanched green sit on a bed of springy noodles, obscuring a fiery red chilli oil underneath. Do not miss the condiment station at Sha Sha Noodles. — Picture by Ethan Lau Some assembly is required. Head to the condiment counter to grab some black vinegar, coriander and scallions. I recommend going heavy on the coriander. Everything goes into the bowl and gets mixed up, at which point the mashed potatoes begin working their magic, thickening and stiffening the oils and liquids into a dense, cohesive mixture that coats the noodles in a delicious mess of orange. The mashed potatoes thicken the sauce, so that it coats every strand of noodle. — Picture by Ethan Lau The potatoes integrate seamlessly into the sauce with no mealy or lumpy bits left behind, so all that remains is a complex mixture of savoury, tangy and slightly spicy flavours, with springy noodles, meaty mince and crunchy, bright herbs to finish. Fair warning: even with a decently sized portion like this one, it is highly likely that one will feel rather bloated after finishing the meal. Not a fan of double carb jeopardy? For the same price, there is an alternative with peas instead of potatoes, though its ability to thicken the sauce is not quite on the same level. The peas are similar, but nowhere near as effective at thickening the sauce as potatoes were. — Picture by Ethan Lau Also on the menu are more conventional beef noodles (RM14.90) and, for a snack, Chengdu spicy dumplings (RM9.90). A speciality of Sichuan, these are chao shou, rustic square dumplings filled only with pork, served in an extremely spicy pool of chilli oil. This is far spicier than what goes on the noodles. The filling is seasoned well, so if the tastebuds are not completely singed, one can get some idea of what it might taste like. These Chengdu 'chaoshou' have more meat in the filling, compared to 'wantan'. — Picture by Ethan Lau Interestingly, there are deep-fried chickpeas bobbing around the bowl, offering a crunchy, spicy bite in between dumplings. It remains to be seen whether this will last, but for now, this viral dish seems to tick all the right boxes. As with most trends, its staying power may depend less on the dish itself than on whether people keep posting about it. This article included. 莎莎面馆 • Sha Sha Noodles • Puchong 10, Jalan Puteri 2/3, Bandar Puteri, Puchong, Selangor. Open daily, 11am-10pm Tel: 011-1676 3130 Instagram: @shashanoodles * 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.
Malay Mail
29-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Malay Mail
Fuss-free ‘yong tau foo' and an espresso tonic surprise in Sungai Way at Restaurant Sungai Way Hakka Yong Tau Foo
PETALING JAYA, June 29 — Two weeks ago, we featured Kedai Kopi Hoh Piah in a story about pan mee being sold out of a home in Sungai Way. This week, we return to the same neck of the woods, quite literally only a few hundred metres away: Restaurant Sungai Way Hakka Yong Tau Foo. Run out of a house, the business sells yong tau foo, as its name suggests. But the immediate smell of coffee may lead you to believe otherwise. Like many businesses in Sungai Way, this is also run out of a house. — Picture by Ethan Lau A closer look at the decidedly lived-in setting reveals personality scattered across the shop, with Hello Kitty plushies sitting side by side with posters of The Mandalorian, and a drinks menu that offers everything from matcha lattes to, quite adorably, babyccinos. Then there's the espresso tonic (RM12 for a large), not something I'd ever expect to drink with yong tau foo, but an ideal remedy for our ridiculously hot afternoons. The menu claims it tastes like beer; I find it far more refreshing and effervescent, with a bitter edge that works like a palate cleanser. Anyway, onto the main event. The selection of yong tau foo here is short and sweet, so it's entirely plausible to try a little bit of everything. Most pieces go for RM2 each, with the exception of white tau foo and fish cakes, which are RM2.50. Unlike at larger stalls or restaurants, every piece here is fried or cooked to order, so even as the second table there, there was a short wait. So, what separates one yong tau foo place from another? Is it the breadth of options, or the quality of each offering? I think the proof is in the pudding. Or in this case, the stuffing. The stuffing is the best part of the 'yong tau foo' here (left). Fishcakes with chives are another highlight (right). — Picture by Ethan Lau After all, the part that's usually proprietary in stuffed tau foois the filling, not the tau foo itself. It can be fish paste, ground pork, or a mixture of both, and to me, it's the standard on which yong tau foo should be evaluated. By this metric, this place is a winner. Whether it's stuffed into bitter gourd, brinjal, okra or chilli, or wedged between sheets of beancurd skin, whether it's fried or served in soup, the filling retains a springy, snappy, meaty texture and carries a subtly savoury profile with just a smidge of sweetness. Here's how you know the filling is a point of pride: you can order it on its own, comically named 'fish slippery', a literal translation of the Cantonese yu waat, or fish paste. I highly recommend getting a few pieces and dipping them into the sharp, punchy chilli sauce for maximum enjoyment. They are best enjoyed with a healthy dipping of chilli sauce. — Picture by Ethan Lau The only anomaly that falls outside the purview of filling is the fishcake, which mixes chopped chives into the fish paste before frying it into a bouncy mass of satisfaction. The green edge of the chives adds just enough balance. It's also a good idea to get a few of these. Between the decor, matcha lattes (which I scoff at nearly anywhere else) and simple but good yong tau foo, Restaurant Sungai Way Hakka Yong Tau Foo is a family-run place that I feel embodies the classic family dynamic of existing with both tradition and looking toward the future, right down to the painfully utilitarian name. Some aspects, like the yong tau foo, harken back to a simpler time. Others, like the espresso tonic, are adapted to changing tastes, but all with the earnest charm of genuine human personality, rather than some agency's idea of a relatable brand identity. Restaurant Sg Way Hakka Yong Tau Foo 74, Jalan SS 9A/1, SS 9A, Petaling Jaya. Open Tuesday to Saturday, 10am-8.30pm. Closes at 5pm on Saturday. Tel: 017-354 7986 * 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.
Malay Mail
26-06-2025
- General
- Malay Mail
Crazy for cockles? Get your fix at SIHAM啦 in Kepong, along with other bites like ‘kam heong lala' and deep-fried baby squid
KUALA LUMPUR, June 26 — In this line of work, a question I'm often asked is: 'How do you find these places?' The answer is often a mix of word of mouth, a few trusted sources, and going through lots and lots and lots of duds. For every meal that makes it into a story, there are plenty that don't. But this might be the strangest way I've stumbled across one. A few months ago, I was settling in for a movie when a guy in the row below started scrolling through Xiaohongshu, screen brightness cranked up to full blast even as the cinema dimmed for the trailers. The modest trappings. — Picture by Ethan Lau Annoying, yes. But also strangely fortunate, because just before he stuffed his phone away, I caught a glimpse of a plump, bloody cockle dangling from a toothpick, and the words 'SIHAM啦' glowing on-screen like a lighthouse in the dark. I made a mental note to follow up on it, and later found it to be a quaint little shop on the ground floor of some flats in Kepong, where diners sit hunched on plastic stools, gorging on cockles and a variety of other gently cooked molluscs and snacks. As the name suggests, the main draw here is boiled siham (RM4), served just about half-cooked, still juicy and bloody as they should be. 'Kam heong' is something done very well here, most obviously on this 'kam heong lala'. — Picture by Ethan Lau Of course, it isn't blood; it's haemoglobin. That iron-rich liquid gives cockles their distinctive metallic flavour, sharpened by a tangy green dipping sauce or masked by a sweeter red chilli version. There's no need to be dainty about it. Pry the suckers open with your fingers and go in with a toothpick. Your fingers might smell a little funny after, but there's a sink for that. The young couple at the table next to mine weren't fazed. They must have had at least four portions between them. But the first thing that hits you when you walk in isn't the smell of cockles, mercifully, but the unmistakable smell of kam heong. The aroma of curry leaves and dried shrimp is baked into the air, thanks to the steady stream of kam heong lala (RM10) flying out. 'Kam heong' okra is another highlight. — Picture by Ethan Lau It's a classic dish for a reason, and while it would go great with rice, I think it's more fun to treat it as our bold and proudly Malaysian version of moules marinière. Preferably washed down with a cold beer. Sucking on each clam is the whole point, and when the sauce is this punchy and savoury, it's hard not to go back for seconds. Another delightful way to enjoy the sauce is with the kam heong okra (RM7.50), which turns into a much moister affair thanks to the vegetable's slight sliminess. More beer-friendly snacks follow, this time deep-fried. The deep-fried baby squid (RM10) features tiny, ultra-crispy specimens scattered in a garden of fried curry leaves. Addictive and dangerous, the deep-fried baby squid is sure to warrant more than one order. — Picture by Ethan Lau They proved so popular that my parents started fighting over them, even after we had ordered three rounds. Each one is smaller than a fingernail, and it is all too easy to pop five or more into your mouth at once. Even the non-seafood snacks like the nam yu chicken wings (RM8) and Kepong moo ping (RM7.50) are compelling. The wings may look plain, but are anything but, carrying the trademark salty funk of nam yu. Kepong 'moo ping' is nothing like Thai grilled pork skewers, but it's a great snack. — Picture by Ethan Lau The moo ping is not really moo ping at all. Instead of marinated pork slices grilled on a skewer, it is a deep-fried patty heavily scented with kaffir lime leaf, giving it a strong Thai accent. Juicy and well seasoned, they do not even need the sweet chilli sauce they come with. Yet another one to go with an ice-cold beer on these hot, testing nights. SIHAM啦 G12, Pangsapuri Seroja, Laman Rimbunan, Kepong. Open daily, 5pm-12am. Closed on Tuesday. Tel: 017-992 3540 Facebook: SIHAM啦 * 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.
Malay Mail
22-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Malay Mail
Xijiade Food in Damansara Utama specialises in ‘Dongbei' style dumplings, but it's the ‘xia fan cai', Chinese over-rice dishes, that truly shine
PETALING JAYA, June 22 — Though the sign reads 'Harbin dumpling restaurant' in Mandarin, I find myself repeatedly drawn to the pasty white glow of Xijiade Food not for their dumplings, but for a different kind of meal altogether. At night, this stretch of Damansara Utama can be rather quiet, but on my first visit, I was greeted by a packed, bustling restaurant filled with people, young and old alike. And it wasn't dumplings that filled the tables. Sure, there were one or two plates here and there, but mostly it was plate upon plate of bold, inviting-looking messes, heaps of meat and vegetables slick with fiery oil and seasoning that adorned every table. This row of Damansara Utama can be pretty dark and quiet at night, but Xijiade is impossible to miss. — Picture by Ethan Lau These are xia fan cai, a loose category of Chinese 'over-rice' dishes meant to be devoured with plain white rice. Usually saucy, sometimes oily, and always, always heavily seasoned, they span many different regional cuisines in China. Dongbei or Northeastern cuisine, which Harbin falls under, has its own hearty and filling entries that suit the over-rice category. Still, xia fan cai is more commonly associated with Sichuan and Hunan cooking, their strong and spicy flavour profiles being ideal for rice. A quick aside: the dumplings aren't bad, simply made and rustic in execution, but they're mostly forgettable. Much more memorable was the farm-style stir-fried meat, or nong jia xiao chao rou (RM22), a classic Hunan dish of stir-fried pork belly with green and red peppers, and one of the most emblematic dishes of the xia fan cai category. The version of Hunan farm-style stir-fried pork belly with peppers at Xijiade is a moreish one, best eaten with lots of rice. — Picture by Ethan Lau The thin slices of belly act almost as a lubricant, rendering their flavourful fat for the aromatics like garlic and a touch of black bean to cling to. But it is the peppers that steal the show: they do not bring much heat, only brightness, a little fruit and a hum of warmth. Glossed with oil, their blistered skins crackled from the wok, the peppers are irresistibly moreish. Best eaten between frantic, greedy mouthfuls of rice. If that was the only dish I enjoyed here, I would come back a second, third time. Oh, wait, I did. On those later visits, I tried their rendition of fish fragrant eggplant (RM18), a quintessential Sichuan dish. The fish fragrant eggplant is thick, saucy and also ideal over rice. — Picture by Ethan Lau Despite the name, 'fish fragrant' or yu xiang seasoning has nothing to do with fish. Its characteristic sweet and sour spiciness comes from the use of Sichuan pickled chillies. The result is a thick, saucy dish loaded with soft, silky eggplants, strips of lean pork (yu xiang rou si is another typical preparation) and springy bits of wood ear fungus, all steeped in that unmistakable yu xiang profile. Sweet, tangy, with a touch of heat, it is yet another winner over rice. Dry pot thousand page tofu (RM19.80) doesn't sound like something that would go well with rice, but it isn't 'dry' in the way you might expect. Instead of the soft, sludgy texture of something like mapo tofu, this version is stir-fried in a fiery oil that is both savoury and spicy. It uses thousand-layer tofu, which is not strictly tofu at all. Made from soy protein isolate and starch rather than soy milk, it has the smooth, bouncy texture of fish cake, but with the ability to soak up every bit of that chilli-laced oil. So yes, it goes brilliantly with rice. Subtlety is, to my absolute delight, absent from the vocabulary here. Hand-torn cabbage with lots of lard clinging to each slice. — Picture by Ethan Lau Even the simple vegetable dishes, like the usual cold cucumber with soy sauce (RM10) and hand-torn cabbage (RM18), are robust. The former was the spiciest thing we tried — and I mean really spicy — while the cabbage was deeply savoury and unapologetically rich with lard. What's not to like? No chill: even the cold cucumber here is bursting with spice. — Picture by Ethan Lau So yes, the sign says dumplings. And sure, they'll sell you dumplings. But the real reason to come to Xijiade Food, and to keep coming back, is to have rice. Or more specifically, for everything that goes on top of it. Xijiade Food (哈尔滨饺子馆） 88-G, Jalan SS 21/62, Damansara Utama, Petaling Jaya. Open daily, 11am-11pm Tel: 011-3540 2181 * 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.
