some things you can't forget
Happened to be at Hougang South interchange earlier this week and got all nostalgic. Its been a long time since I was there and an even longer time from when I was growing up. Though I did not live in Hougang, the place featured regularly in my childhood since I would stay over at my cousin Darren's place at Yimei Garden almost every week. Of all things, I was there to hand some documents over to Xueyun from internal audit. A queer sensation it was being handed a slice of nostalgia under these unlikely circumstances, but yeah... i suppose that's the way the story usually goes.
I would love to talk about Yimei Garden, 3 of my uncles had homes there and growing up there with Darren, Samuel and Daniel was unforgettable. It was there I learned how to swim... sorta... I was aquaphobic till I gain water confidence with my first try at snorkelling. It was also there where we played games in the lobby, lit lanterns during mooncake festival and nintendo'd/Sega'd till we all went short sighted. But I digress and that is story I will leave for another time.
Rui Fa minced pork noodles
You know you are getting old, when you can lay claim to having eaten at a particular hawker stall for more than 15 years. Though not really hungry that day, I decided just for old time's sake to scout around for this minced pork noodle stall that we used to patronise way back in pri sch back when Hougang South was still just good old Hougang. Stall 01 34 at the hawker centre still stands today the same as 15 years ago. I'm not too sure about the name of the stall, I believe it to be Rui Fa Shu Shi, not that there was never a need to remember the name... It is a stall you would know by sight, if for nothing else then by the iconic curry puff uncle who helmed it.
Curry Puff uncle, so known by the brylcreamed do that he keeps was and is to me, the ultimate consumate Hawker showman. A person who takes pride in what he does and his food, it was never just a mechanical pulling of noodles and timing learnt from some franchise manual or a mere dishing of soup. Bowls were tapped and ladles flashed with flourish when curry puff uncle held court. And hold court he did, with his killer herbal tinged soup that accompanied every bowl of dry noodles. And what a discovery it was to a young boy (for there are old ones too), finding this stall and knowing it like close kept secret shared only with friends. I believe that it was Darren or someone in his family who introduced it to me. And in doing so, it went from being one of their "secrets" to being one of mine as well, spreading the joy so to speak. Perhaps this sharing of good things lies at the heart of friendship and kinship and it is through the sharing of experiences that relationships develop a language of their own, a shared memory and piece of history. Maybe that is why I am particularly uncomfortable eating with people I do not like. At the risk of over dramtism, the meal table is no place for hypocrisy.
But I digress again as I am wont to do. Back to the present, to the event which sparked off this reverie. I found curry puff uncle at the stall, his hair styled the same way I remember, his full head of hair a testament to the non abrasiveness of Brylcream and the stall looking like it did in my mind's eye. Though a bit slower, there was still that little flick of the wrist here and when he was cooking. And then it hit me, how everything has changed.
I saw his hands, perhaps not as steady as before, his skin, dotted with the tell tale signs of age.. and most tellingly maybe, the absence of a queue. Ironically, there was a long queue right next to curry puff uncle for noodles as well, helmed by a young guy who might have been curry puff uncle some years ago.
The sauce and the soup were not as fantastic as I remember and on any other day, I might have dismissed this as another stall which is no longer as good as it used to be. But somehow in a world driven by novelty and menus with more foreign words than sense. Lamenting the drop in standards seemed out of place here. And maybe, it was left to me to wonder, whether it was part of the flavour lost, or part of me.
I would love to talk about Yimei Garden, 3 of my uncles had homes there and growing up there with Darren, Samuel and Daniel was unforgettable. It was there I learned how to swim... sorta... I was aquaphobic till I gain water confidence with my first try at snorkelling. It was also there where we played games in the lobby, lit lanterns during mooncake festival and nintendo'd/Sega'd till we all went short sighted. But I digress and that is story I will leave for another time.
Rui Fa minced pork noodles
You know you are getting old, when you can lay claim to having eaten at a particular hawker stall for more than 15 years. Though not really hungry that day, I decided just for old time's sake to scout around for this minced pork noodle stall that we used to patronise way back in pri sch back when Hougang South was still just good old Hougang. Stall 01 34 at the hawker centre still stands today the same as 15 years ago. I'm not too sure about the name of the stall, I believe it to be Rui Fa Shu Shi, not that there was never a need to remember the name... It is a stall you would know by sight, if for nothing else then by the iconic curry puff uncle who helmed it.
Curry Puff uncle, so known by the brylcreamed do that he keeps was and is to me, the ultimate consumate Hawker showman. A person who takes pride in what he does and his food, it was never just a mechanical pulling of noodles and timing learnt from some franchise manual or a mere dishing of soup. Bowls were tapped and ladles flashed with flourish when curry puff uncle held court. And hold court he did, with his killer herbal tinged soup that accompanied every bowl of dry noodles. And what a discovery it was to a young boy (for there are old ones too), finding this stall and knowing it like close kept secret shared only with friends. I believe that it was Darren or someone in his family who introduced it to me. And in doing so, it went from being one of their "secrets" to being one of mine as well, spreading the joy so to speak. Perhaps this sharing of good things lies at the heart of friendship and kinship and it is through the sharing of experiences that relationships develop a language of their own, a shared memory and piece of history. Maybe that is why I am particularly uncomfortable eating with people I do not like. At the risk of over dramtism, the meal table is no place for hypocrisy.
But I digress again as I am wont to do. Back to the present, to the event which sparked off this reverie. I found curry puff uncle at the stall, his hair styled the same way I remember, his full head of hair a testament to the non abrasiveness of Brylcream and the stall looking like it did in my mind's eye. Though a bit slower, there was still that little flick of the wrist here and when he was cooking. And then it hit me, how everything has changed.
I saw his hands, perhaps not as steady as before, his skin, dotted with the tell tale signs of age.. and most tellingly maybe, the absence of a queue. Ironically, there was a long queue right next to curry puff uncle for noodles as well, helmed by a young guy who might have been curry puff uncle some years ago.
The sauce and the soup were not as fantastic as I remember and on any other day, I might have dismissed this as another stall which is no longer as good as it used to be. But somehow in a world driven by novelty and menus with more foreign words than sense. Lamenting the drop in standards seemed out of place here. And maybe, it was left to me to wonder, whether it was part of the flavour lost, or part of me.
posted by Shininggoat at 1:46 AM
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