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You know them, I know them, everyone and their mother knows them. If bak chor mee had official ambassadors, Hill Street Tai Hwa Pork Noodle and High Street Tai Wah Pork Noodle would be front and centre. A formidable duo of Michelin Guide mainstays, they’re loved for the same iconic dish and even trace their roots to the same humble stall.
So… who does it better? Any kaypoh (like me) is inclined to wonder. Well, my friends, it’s showdown o’clock. Will the Star-studded Tai Hwa or Bib Gourmand-bestowed Tai Wah take the crown?
But first, a little history.
It all began in 1939, when the late Mr Tang Joon Teo opened Tai Wah Teochew Minced Pork Noodles along Hill Street, peddling what would become his signature: bak chor mee laced with black vinegar. His older son, Tang Chay Seng, later took over the OG Tai Hwa Pork Noodle, while his younger brother, Tang Chai Chye, branched out with the High Street offshoot that became Tai Wah.
This may feel like a jumble of names, but you should get the gist. Both stalls continue to honour the late Mr Tang’s recipe today, though each peppers in its own flair — so you won’t be slurping the same bowl at both spots.
Which rendition reigns supreme? Let’s find out.
High Street Tai Wah Pork Noodle
Showdown aside, my mission was to spend as little time queueing as possible. The game plan: start at High Street Tai Wah Pork Noodle to dodge the office lunch crowd native to Hong Lim Food Centre, where it resides.
Alas, it was 11am and I clocked a solid 35 minutes in line. Long queues at Michelin-recommended stall? Fork found in kitchen.
I know… Couldn’t I have visited any of their other outlets? Nah, I was set on queueing for the Bib Gourmand-awarded original. At its helm is Mr Tang Chai Chye’s son, whom I watched deftly assemble each bowl to order.
Tai Wah offers just the one dish: Bak Chor Mee, at 3 price points: S$7, S$9 and S$11.
I’ll admit, my S$7 order gave me a twinge of dismay when it arrived. For one, it wasn’t in the fancy rimmed bowl my fellow queue-mates seemed to get, and the portion looked rather modest at first glance. That one’s on me, really — as I’d gone smaller to save stomach space for Round Two at Tai Hwa later. On the bright side, it still came equipped with every ingredient the stall offers, albeit in scaled-down portions. Fair game for judging, I say.
The mee pok sat pretty in a glistening pool of sauce, and it didn’t take much tossing to coat every strand. And oof, there was that bright, bracing zing of vinegar. Hot on its heels was a savoury kick of chilli, rounded off by rich, unctuous notes of pork lard that made the whole mix dangerously moreish. The noodles themselves were cooked to a satisfying al dente too, so I had far from any qualms here.
Next up, the ingredients. My bowl held a medley of the usuals: meatballs, lean pork slices, liver slices and clumps of minced meat, plus a lone wanton and a sliver of dried sole fish.
That crowning sliver of sole fish — Tai Wah and Tai Hwa’s unmistakable hallmark — added a delicate, salty crisp that was hands-down one of my favourite touches. The rest, though, was a mixed bag. I enjoyed the toothsome meatballs, and surprisingly didn’t mind the liver slices, which were tender and surprisingly clean-tasting. On the other hand, the lean pork slices veered a tad chewy, while the wanton, despite its tasty filling, suffered from an overly doughy skin.
And finally, the soup. Speckled with feathery bits of minced meat, it carried a gentle porkiness and was easy down the hatch. A good accompaniment to the noodles, for sure.
Overall, this was a solid showing from Tai Wah. But would Tai Hwa manage to shine brighter?
531A Upper Cross Street, Hong Lim Market & Food Centre, #02-16, Singapore 051531
Tue to Sun: 7.30am -3pm
Closed on Mon
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Hill Street Tai Hwa Pork Noodle
After a quick kopi break, I pulled up at Crawford Lane for Hill Street Tai Hwa Pork Noodles. Time check: 2pm, probably just in time for the queues to taper off. My Type A self was quietly smug.
One of my proudest foodie flexes is snagging a bowl here not only at peak dinner hour, but also when they’d first been awarded their Michelin Star — which they’ve kept for nearly a decade since. The stall now spans 2 units: the right helmed by Mr Tang Chay Seng, the left by his daughter.
I headed to the right where the slightly longer queue was. Although no stress, word is both sides serve the same quality. I didn’t catch the man himself this round, but his long-time crew had things well in hand.
It’s worth noting that Tai Hwa remains Singapore’s only Michelin-starred hawker as of the big ’25. Dining there felt honourable, actually.
Tai Hwa’s signature Bak Chor Mee comes in 4 sizes: S$8, S$10, S$12, S$15. Tempting as the advisory “regular portion” label next to the S$10 listing was, I stuck to my guns and went for the smallest at S$8 once again.
For just a dollar more than that at Tai Wah, I was pretty pleased with what I got. No pretty crockery again, but I espied an additional wanton and a generous scatter minced meat, making the bowl look far more vibrant.
Two words: got kick! The tangy oomph of the black vinegar was markedly more assertive here — their X-factor after all, strutting to the forefront as if it knew it was the star. I also loved how the noodles carried a firmer bite, each strand well-slicked with that bold, fragrant sauce.
If I absolutely had to nitpick, part of me missed the nutty caress of lard oil that Tai Wah offered. But I’m saying this as though Tai Hwa’s rendition didn’t have me slurping non-stop. Old-school bak chor mee at its finest, I’d say.
Now, the ingredients were a whole different ball game. At its most fundamental, the minced meat chunks and lean pork slices were incredibly soft and tender while the meatballs juicy and teeth-sinking. The liver slices, again, were free of that dreaded graininess, and the cracker-like sole fish gave a sharper crunch and a deeper umami. And oh, the wantons. These were silky-skinned, generously filled with tasty pork and pleasingly substantial.
How different can a bowl of soup be? You might think there’s little room for variation, but this one had a robust, porky richness while remaining impeccably clean on the palate. Floating within were soft seaweed squares that lent a gentle brininess, while traces of pickled vegetables added pops of tang for balance. Unique and far from boring is how I’d describe it.
But in the grand bak chor mee showdown… we’ll get to that in a bit.
+65 9272 3920
466 Crawford Lane, #01-12, Singapore 190466
Daily: 9am – 8.30pm
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The Verdict
This was closer than I’d expected. Both Tai Hwa and Tai Wah wielded their own charms and brought strong bowls to the table, and I hate that decision-making is not my forte.
After careful consideration, I have to give the crown to Hill Street Tai Hwa Pork Noodle. Save for the missing kiss of lard oil, the bowl had few faults. Its bolder black vinegar tang, firm noodles and standout toppings simply gave it the edge for me.
To High Street Tai Wah’s credit, its well-judged vinegar-chilli mix, nutty lard richness and dangerously easy-to-polish-off quality made it a worthy contender, and I thoroughly enjoyed my bowl there.
All said and done, this showdown proved that both stalls live up to their reputation — but for me, Tai Hwa’s Michelin Star really does speak for itself.
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