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A good, hearty bowl of laksa captures the quintessential flavours of Singapore. I’m talking rich coconut milk, fiery sambal and ocean-y hum. While searching for stalls to feature at the quiet, L-shaped Havelock Road Cooked Food Centre, I stumbled upon Guang Fa Laksa, which sits as one of the hawker centre’s most popular stalls.
Laksa has always been a comfort dish from back in primary school, when I’d get my weekly fix at the hawker centre opposite my school. And for picky little 12-year-old me, cockles (or hum) weren’t quite my jam. My favourite stall uncle knew this, so when he’d spot me from a few steps away, he’d shout, “Ah girl, ‘hum’-less laksa?”, to which I’d giggle and nod.
These days, with a (mostly) developed frontal lobe and palate, I’ve come to appreciate the beauty of hum. And at Guang Fa Laksa, trust me when I say there’s more hum in this laksa than your colleagues at karaoke night in full swing.
What I tried at Guang Fa Laksa
The menu is refreshingly straightforward — Guang Fa serves just one dish, Laksa, in 2 variations. You can go for the classic bowl, which starts at S$4 for a Small and S$5 for a Big.
What really caught my attention was their Only Cockles Laksa, priced at S$6 or S$7, depending on size. We went with the S$6 version — slightly pricier, yes, but more than justified by the sheer generosity of cockles, you’ll see.
The first thing I noticed when it arrived was the rich orange hue of the laksa broth. Don’t let it fool you, though, as it wasn’t as lemak as it looked. In fact, the soup leaned lighter and thinner than many laksa broths I’ve had, which came as a surprise to someone expecting a full-on coconut milk bomb.
What it lacked in creaminess, it made up for in heat. One sip was enough for the spice to hit the back of my throat in a fiery tingle with zero warning. It wasn’t unbearable, but enough to contribute a few more beads of sweat trickling down my forehead.
The noodles were your standard thick bee hoon: slippery with the slightest firmness, and perfect for slurping. They soaked up the broth nicely, each mouthful delivering a warm, spicy-savoury hug.
For the best experience, incorporate the demure dollop of sambal that sits on the side into the mix. It wasn’t blow-your-head-off spicy, but it packed a delicious punch of hae bee (dried shrimp) umami that countered the broth’s slightly sweet undertone nicely.
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Now, let’s talk about the star of the show, the cockles. As far as frontal lobe development goes, hum still wouldn’t be an ingredient I’d reach for, so I was genuinely surprised by how much I enjoyed them here.
Each of the 20 or so was gorgeously plump, briny, and carried a clean, oceanic flavour that didn’t veer into fishy territory. These weren’t the sad, shrivelled cockles you get more often than not — they were fresh, meaty, and added a satisfying chew to every bite.
It’s clear that Guang Fa knows their audience, because this version is perfect for the cockle lovers out there (or soon-to-be converts).
The usual laksa toppings like fishcake and tau pok were nowhere to be found in this Only Cockles Laksa, manifesting in the form of generous hum instead. You do still get some tau geh (beansprouts), which add a bit of crunch, though they’re pretty standard — nothing to shout about.
Still, they do help balance the dish out, offering a bit of texture in between all that spice and seafood.
Final Thoughts
If all cockles tasted like this, I’d eventually order a bowl of pure hum in laksa broth.
Guang Fa Laksa delivers a bowl that feels both familiar and refreshing, though the broth wasn’t quite the standout I was expecting. If you’re someone who loves cockles, this is your moment. And if you’re someone who doesn’t, well… you just might leave with a change of heart like I did!
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