The saying that "Sometimes the best things are found in your own backyard" rings true especially when it comes to familiar flavors and homecooked food.
A friend of mine found out quite recently that one of the dishes that his Chinese mother used to make for the family actually had roots in Peranakan cuisine. He was surprised when he found out. She was not a Nyonya- both his maternal grandparents had been first-generation immigrants from China.
However, it was soon recollected that his mother had in fact learnt it from her mother-in-law, whom, although also a first generation immigrant from China, had at that point in time lived in a shop house along Tanjong Katong Road.
Mystery solved.
His mother no longer finds it easy to be in the kitchen these days.
And he missed the taste.
So began the islandwide hunt for the 'perfect' babi pongteh.
Three attempts there were in all.
The first time was at this very touristy, very IG-worthy restaurant at the Esplanade. Everything came to the table served in pretty-looking dishes, and we had a good meal, even finishing it off with chendol, but he said that the flavors were lighter, the texture thinner, and seemingly cleaner (healthier) than what he was used to.
After that we found a place closer to his home fifteen minutes walk down the road. The meal here was more satisfying, the portions here were larger, and the meat was chunkier. The flavors of the gravy were also closer to what he remembered, but perfection is key when it comes to (re-created) homecooked food, so even though it was better than the first, back we went to Google, the blogs, and the online reviews.
Somewhere along the way Chili Padi Nyonya on Joo Chiat Place popped up.
So we went there.
And almost immediately, we fell in love.
Here's the funny thing however- we can't really pinpoint why.
We'd ordered the very same dishes that we had ordered at the previous two places, but the babi pongteh and the ngoh hiang here seemed to be more heartwarming and more satisfying than those which we'd eaten elsewhere.
It might have been the decor.
Chili Padi Nyonya occupies two units on the ground floor of a row of shop houses, and had it not been for the table arrangement, we might have thought of ourselves having our meal in the dining hall of a home belonging to a typical Peranakan family.
The lights, the color of the walls, the pictures, the furniture, the batik design of the tablecloths- reminiscent of a culture known for their intricate techniques, their beadwork and their bright colors.
Now, the decor might have been inviting, but it was the food that charmed us.
Served in a claypot dish, the babi pongteh was brought to our table bubbling away so happily as if it had been taken off the charcoal stove only a few moments ago. Inside the pot were vegetables (I think it were some sort of shoots), big juicy mushrooms, and several chunky portions of perfectly simmered pork belly all swimming in a thick, almost broth-like gravy.
The portions were very attractive to us, but the best thing about this dish had to be the gravy.
For someone who is not familiar with Peranakan food, and whom hasn't had the opportunity to have it very much, this gravy suited my palate perfectly.
Very much like the texture of a well-prepared stew, it was not only thick, but extremely rich in flavor, and was so comforting that we considered ordering another plate of rice just to finish up the gravy.
However we didn't.
There was still the ngoh hiang.
I'll have to be honest.
It was the largest piece of ngoh hiang I had ever saw.
No, it's not a cliche.
It really was the largest piece of ngoh hiang I had ever seen.
Call me suaku, but most of the zhichar places tend to chop the roll up into little sections for the sake of the chopsticks, and even so, none of them are this huge, are they?
It was very tasty, and there was a little bit of sweet sauce at the side.
Again I'm no expert on this dish- I just eat- but the insides of this chonky roll were stuffed full to the brim with ingredients that included little bits of minced meat and cute little bits of what I think is water chestnut.
We ate both dishes together.
A bite of the pork, a bite of the pork fat, a dip of the roll into the sweet sauce, a mouthful of warm, fluffy rice together with the gravy.
It was a blessed meal.
And it was a very delighted diner turned loyal customer who very likely will not be hunting around the island to satisfy cravings for the flavors of home again.