It's a little embarrassing, and by no means (dialect) biased, but Teochew-style braised duck rice is not usually the first dish that comes to mind when I'm hungry and wandering around the hawker center looking for something to eat.
It might be because I didn't grow up with the braised version- The Family was more into roasted- and whilst I'm pretty open, somehow I tend to head for the fried fish soup stall instead of the braised duck stall.
I don't recoil at the dish, however, and I love a nice braised duck rice when I have chance to eat one.
Except that I don't know where many of the good braised duck stalls are.
The only ones I know include this one stall at Hong Lim Food Center, this one stall at East Coast Lagoon Food Center, and this one stall at Geylang Lorong 35.
To date the stall I frequent most is the Sean Kee one at Lorong 35.
Something interesting about this stall is the location.
It sits right next to a hardware kind of store- very hardcore- so it's got a strong industrial vibe, and so very often during the meal one hears the clunking sounds of steel rods (or something) being moved, coupled with the shouts of the workers busy with their task.
What the story behind this particular coffee shop or this particular stall is, I don't know, but I've heard that it's one of the more traditional ones with a lot of heritage and wields a tale long enough to hold its own together with some of the established ones in this country.
One thing I appreciate about their duck here is the way they've cut it.
All along I used to assume that braised duck was hard and dry, and that you were supposed to order your meat together with parts of the duck which I generally don't eat.
But over here their duck is sliced skillfully thin, sufficient enough that one can pick up with chopsticks, or with fork and spoon.
Sure, it looks dark in the picture, almost like a complete mess that you can't discern where the meat begins and where it ends, but trust me, they're actually all neatly arranged on a plate, generously laden with delicious, thick gravy, and served with a bit of cucumber, a heap of tougay, and a bit of parsley on the side.
Coming here for duck rice means to delve straight into the meal without having to figure out which part is which part of the duck and whether there're any hidden bones or odd parts underneath all that meat.
Coming here means I don't have to encounter a single bone, however big or small amongst the meat.
For that I'm glad.
It feels incredibly safe to have braised duck rice here.
There is no need for me to watch over each spoonful that I put in my mouth.
There is no need for me to be on the side of caution as I roll the meat and rice (I eat them together) inside my mouth.
And I can yammer away happily as I have lunch with my dining companion, and not have to split brain eating and talking at the same time.
Perhaps it might be easier if I were acquainted with the style of eating duck, whether it be bone marrow within the bone, whether it be protruding bones here and there from the duck, or even the parts of the poultry that I don't know what they are.
But I'm not.
I'm the kind who goes for the meat, never mind which part, and that be it.
Forget about the innards- I can't deal with those- and neither can I deal with duck necks, duck beaks or webbed feet.
So, yeah, I like this stall.
And even though I wouldn't mind trying out something like braised duck porridge (if there be such a dish) from other stalls at other places, including the one at Hong Lim, for me right now I'm great with this one.
Heck, even the skin- though very much unlike the roasted crisp that I prefer to have- I've grown to like.
Some of the skins have got quite a bit of fat, which grants a most surprising taste, but in any case, I eat it drowned in their gravy.