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Saying that I love mee hoon kueh would be a sore understatement. I’m dead serious — I’ve got a nifty collection of spots for this last-meal-worthy noodle dish saved in my Notes app, and I’m never not on the prowl for new additions. Well, jackpot: Liu San Jie Mee Hoon Kueh in Toa Payoh North landed squarely on my radar.
Liu San Jie is quite a newbie, having made its debut just 4 months ago with the brightly lit Kimly Coffeeshop where it resides. They specialise in handmade mee hoon kueh (duh) — which, aside from being right up my alley, also piqued my interest as few noodle stalls in Singapore have this glorious hand-torn goodness as their main attraction. And you’d trust this self-proclaimed connoisseur to know.
What I tried at Liu San Jie Mee Hoon Kueh
While I’m a die-hard member of #TeamDry when it comes to handmade noodles, I decided to get the ball rolling with the Signature Mee Hoon Kueh Soup (S$6). I mean, with that huge thumbs-up it proudly sported on the menu board, it felt almost obligatory.
As a huge sucker for pretty crockery, I couldn’t help but first admire Liu San Jie’s. Lined with a vintage-style geometric lattice and red floral pattern, the bowls here exuded an old-school noodle shop charm I was already inclined to award plus points for.
But first, the soup. While this struck me as distinctively cloudier and thicker than the average one, its flavour profile begged to differ. Steeped with earthy mani cai and faintly briny ikan bilis undertones, “clean-tasting” would be the best way to sum it up.
Undeniably drinkable as it was, I must admit this broth leaned a tad gentle for my palate. Still, I can easily see it appealing to those with penchants for lighter, more understated flavours.
The mee hoon kueh, however, won me over from the very first bite. Each piece came in its own unique shape and texture — the hallmark of hand-torn mee hoon kueh. They held a toothsome bite without tipping into doughy territory, playing perfectly with the broth and that crunchy smattering of ikan bilis on top. No notes!
Accompanying the noodles was a rather generous myriad of ingredients: savoury meatballs, minced meat, shiitake mushrooms, mani cai and several hunks of prawn paste — the latter easily my favourite of the lot. These coral-hued morsels were soft yet snappy, each studded with a chunk of fresh prawn that lent a natural umami sweetness.
And then we were onto my next conquest: the Dry Mee Hoon Kueh with Hakka Fried Pork Belly (S$7.30). I don’t know if it’s weird to admit this, but I’d been fantasising about this bowl all week leading up to my visit. The photos online simply looked too good to resist, and I must say that I certainly wasn’t catfished.
Having been tossed beforehand, the saucy mee hoon kueh really didn’t call for anything extra — though that jiggly Egg (S$0.80) I added on was begging to be broken. I pulled it apart, unleashing its liquid gold onto the noodles, which now donned a tantalising brown sheen.
Now, have you ever experienced jaw recoil? I’m by no means qualified to casually drop a term like that, but I swear my jaw bounced back on itself as I bit down. Call me dramatic, but that’s exactly how chewy these noodles were; a perfect al dente, if you will.
The sauce mixture was so addictive, too, the sweet black sauce balanced out by the aromatic shallots and savoury minced meat, making for an incredibly moreish, umami-packed profile.
If I had to gripe about anything, it’d be that the bowl wasn’t bottomless. On a more practical note, the portion did feel a little small for its price point.
Rounding us off was the Hakka Fried Pork Belly (S$3.50 a la carte), served in a pretty sizable portion of nearly 20 slices (yes, I counted).
The nan ru (fermented red beancurd) seasoning was surprisingly pronounced, though its characteristic funk did verge on overpowering for my liking. Still, I found plenty to love texture-wise: each slice had a crackly, golden crust that gave way to tender, juicy meat with a well-balanced fat-to-lean ratio.
Final thoughts
The key to my noodle-loving heart is probably shaped like a perfectly imperfect piece of hand-torn mee hoon kueh, and I’d say Liu San Jie had half the battle won with theirs. The other half goes to the lovely prawn paste and that irresistibly tasty dry version, which I could honestly see myself ordering everyday if I lived or worked nearby.
Sure, the soup rendition leaned a little understated and the nan ru pork belly cloying for my taste — but these felt more like personal quibbles than deal-breakers. Bottom line: there’s no doubt in my mind they’ve earned my seal of approval.
Expected damage: S$6 – S$7.30 per pax
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