KUALA LUMPUR, March 9 — Sometimes we need a fresh pair of eyes to see what has been around us all this time. Or in my case, a fresh palate, a new set of taste buds.
My friend had just moved to my neighbourhood some months ago. It’s easy to act the local guide and show said friend around my favourite haunts in Taman Desa from udon shops to popular pâtisseries.
It’s nice to be helpful, to be able to say, "Go here for chicken rice if you enjoy the meat more, go next door if you’re mad for the rice.”
But our friends can surprise us with discoveries we otherwise would not have come across on our own.
We all have our blinders on when it comes to food; we eat what we eat, meaning we typically seek out what we like or are accustomed to.
After all, it’ll take a determined foodie to keep hunting down foods they never heard of or don’t really relish eating, whether in hopes of changing their minds or stumbling upon the occasional burst of delight.
For me this Holy Grail appears to be pan mee.
Usually I never even think of the stuff unless I’m under the weather, in which case some soupy noodles sound like an excellent idea, particularly if the broth is clear and relatively tasteless.
This, naturally, doesn’t make for much of an incentive to pursue pan mee when I’m feeling fantastic.
Thanks to my friend (and new neighbour), I am now convinced otherwise. He tells me he’s been going to a small pan mee stall across the road a few times a week since moving to our taman.
That level of fervour and dedication clearly requires some investigation.
The road in question being the ever-busy Old Klang Road, this means we cross it using the trusty bridge near the Taman Desa fire station. Already I’m seeing my neighbourhood in a different way (Why do we drive so much? Why don’t we walk more?), the stream of traffic flashing beneath us.
We enjoyed an easy stroll to the row of shophouses not far from Scott Garden. It’s early evening and already many tables are occupied around the shops and stalls here.
The steamed fish head and bak kut teh I recognise from visits years ago but we continue walking till we reach the pan mee stall.
We grab one of the red plastic tables and one of the stall workers (they’re all one family, we learn later) comes to take our orders. My friend goes for his default pan mee soup while I ask if they have min fan koh.
They do. So I asked for a bowl, dry. I don’t remember having had this in Klang Valley — it has always been part of my childhood in Malacca.
Back then, the stall we frequented in Ujong Pasir only made mee hoon kueh (its Hokkien name; min fan koh is what our Cantonese family call the dish — min fan means "wheat flour” whilst koh here refers to the dough or noodles). Indeed, I never heard of pan mee till I moved to KL.
Unlike pan mee, which are rolled through a hand-crank noodle machine at the stall daily, ensuring every strand is freshly made, min fan koh requires more skill to tear the dough into thin, irregular pieces by hand.
If these hand-torn noodles are too thin, they can break apart easily when cooking. If they are too thick, then the resultant noodles can be doughy and hard to chew.
This is where years of experience comes in. The maestro at Lian Kee Pan Mee has apparently been cooking since he was 10 years old so we are talking about decades of making pan mee — or nearly half a century!
As a result his min fan koh is the perfect texture and thickness, chewy and bouncy. The classic "QQ” feel we look for in our noodles. And the moreish sauce is just the right consistency — not too diluted but sturdy enough to coat every piece of hand-torn noodle.
What is particularly startling is how delicious the soup that is served with my dry sauced min fan koh tastes. The depth of flavour surprises me. No preservatives, just lots of ikan bilis for the stock and layered with plenty of fried shallots.
My friend’s pan mee soup is no less spectacular; his bowl is chock-full of tender, thickly sliced shiitake mushrooms and greens, topped with yet more fried shallots. There is a tinge of nam yue (red fermented bean curd) in our slices of pork too but that could just be our gastronomic euphoria.
The pan mee is served with saucers of sambal on the side; these are fiery and addictive but the noodles are already amazing on their own so it really depends on your mood when you visit.
Besides pan mee, they also sell other dishes such as yee mee, fried chicken, yam cake and deep-fried spring rolls. My friend convinces me a lighter meal is the way to go, however.
We opt for tong sui, something sweet to end our meal. These "dessert soups” are made on a rotational basis. Some days they might have snow fungus and longan; today we enjoy hearty bowls of barley fuchok.
Which reminds me of a family meal growing up: no Cantonese meal is complete without a bowl of tong sui so our dinner has been all about nostalgic goodness. I understand now why my friend has been returning time and again; I shall do much the same.
莲记板面 Lian Kee Pan Mee
Batu 4½, off Old Klang Road, KL (next to Scott Garden, near Ambank)
Open Mon-Wed & Fri-Sat 5:30pm-10pm; closed Thu & Sun
Tel: 012-798 0277
* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.
