Singapore: Something old, something new in Chinatown

C.M. Cooper, Contributor, Singpore

With just a weekend to spare in Singapore, one must whittle the many entertainment possibilities down to but a few. But neither nosing around for nonexistent bargains on Orchard Road nor chasing down the latest heaving bar option appealed to us.

Thankfully, we arrived in Singapore with a singular focus, a few fine tips and the happy contact of an old architect-cum- friend that now lives in the city. He promised us the essential insiders tour of Chinatown. We trotted after like rescued puppies with expensive cocktail habits.

Perhaps to the chagrin to the reader of any China-oriented travel piece, we turned our backs on the fusty apothecaries and sugary sweet bakeries that always come in hues of pink and mauve. Should one require further insight on what is, to that end, a look at Chinatown by day, there are plenty of fine sources to consult. No need to construct droll details here.

Chinatown in general, however, may need some reviewing. Set southwest of the Singapore river, in an area of land determined by Raffles and his slapdash urban planning committee, Chinatown continues to bear the marks of its respective immigrant groups who migrated from China in the 17th and 18th centuries.

The Hokkien-founded Thain Hock Keng temple stands just up the road from the Cantonese Fu Tak Chi, both established in the early 1800s. Streets and territories of the neighborhood became closely linked with certain families and societies, powerful associations that continue to hold tacit control to the present.

Our friend met us at the decidedly un-Chinatown Milk Bar, where the resident DJ was spinning and the slender, stylish crowd was uniformly dressed in black, sipping mixed drinks.

"Wow, Chinatown. . ." he started. "It's happening in a way, but there're a lot of other angles to nightlife in Singapore now."

We were not to be dissuaded by this initial dampening. The architect could tell we were intent upon a closer look at Chinatown now, no matter how familiar the old hands may find it.

He started out with an overview of how the neighborhood fits together, and how it has changed of late.

"Amoy Road connects all the little streets and back roads of Chinatown. It's an odd mix down there -- modern cafes, restaurants and shops running up against more traditional establishments. But of special note is Keong Saik Road."

He described the particular jumble of establishments that had come to flourish along the road, some above board and others very much below. "All along this road are old shop houses, some with red numbers above the doors. These numbers have been there for ages."

His reference, of course, was to the houses of ill repute that have long dotted this particular strip of Chinatown.

"This used to be a very dodgy area. But now tons of new bars and restaurants have come onto the street. Some of them are quite good looking."

Keong Saik Road, he added, had become yet another tentacle of an overreaching development project that had sought too hard, and too fast, to become cool.

"It's strange to see the new bars and restaurants next to the old men in the coffee shops, drinking beer and then visiting the brothels," he added. "But if you really want to see a great side of Chinatown, Club Street remains the pioneer."

As the night rambled on, and our conversation turned to familiar grumblings of lost authenticity and the sanitization of Chinatown, we decided it was nearly time to see for ourselves what the eclectic neighborhood had to offer.

With Singapore's Chinese population comprising an estimated 80 percent of total residents amid the city-state's wide range of cultures and traditions, Chinatown has in recent years become an urban epicenter for the contests and cooperations between these forces.

We simply hoped, as we slid off our barstools and toddled off into the evening, that we could find a sufficiently interesting place to consume dinner and raise a glass to the good city's changing face. Under advisement from those far more in the know, we steered ourselves away from Keong Saik Road (warned that even the most appealing places were "still working out the kinks") and straight down old Club Street.

The fierce and fashionable stylings of Club Street have indeed been on the map for some time, and yet the street should not be written off by dint of longevity. Instead, those establishments that have been standing for several years continue to offer and refine their best, while other newcomers have added new variety. Club Street, the longtime heart of fashionable nighttime Chinatown, deserves not to be neglected but rather revisited. We happily took up the charge.

The clatter of the nearby open-air market and the rush of oncoming traffic give way to smaller roads as we ambled toward our destination. Although it was already somewhat late in the evening, we found several stylish shops still open. Their low lighting and window offerings promised great treasures inside.

Braving hunger pangs, we strolled through the particularly notable wares inside Babuyo, a furniture and decorative shop that has something very important in common with the showrooms of London and Paris while maintaining critical regional flavor. Fine wood products are imported to the store from across Indonesia, with teak figuring heavily among the materials. And teak, we were assured by knowing staff, "is very hot in New York right now."

(Teak, that comparatively rare and tremendously over-logged resource, is generally frowned upon in international trading circles. We held a firm "look but don't buy" policy. For now.)

Luminous tables and shining bed frames mingled with smaller household items such as lamps and decorative statues to create a serene atmosphere that was still packed with options. The sheer number of quality, well-selected goods distinguishes this store significantly from others like it here in Jakarta. We browsed until we could no longer ignore our need for food and left Babuyo, dog-earing key items for hopeful purchase.

Club Street eateries are only growing more polished and refined as the years pass. Once known to house some of the more renowned temple carvers in the city, Club Street is strung along now with one brightly lit cafe and restaurant after another. Across the street, the yellow shuttered International Herald Tribune building looked dark and empty next to its neighboring establishments.

As we walked along the street, thumbing through display menus and pressing our noses to the windows, we came across an especially well packed little French brasserie. L'Angelus is the third modern eating establishment to get started on the street, making it something of an old timer to the Club Street scene. We settled into an outdoor table and immediately ordered a carafe of pastis.

The French are said to consume around 75 million liters of pastis per year, or one and a quarter liters for every man, woman and child in the country. While we did not approach these figures, the Ricard on offer that night went down well, perfectly iced and biting with aniseed. We sipped this while chewing on pieces of French bread slathered in creamy fresh butter. Sitting underneath the low hanging trees dotted with candles, we perused the menu and happily observed the night's parade.

We started the meal off with a smoked duck and grapefruit salad (wet, with a searing, fruity aftertaste) and the goat's cheese on toast (the classic: tart and creamy). We added to this order a modest jug of house red and determined, if we just squint in the right direction, that this could well be a Paris side street.

For the main courses, a hearty bowl of Provencal-style fish soup and the confit of duck's liver arrived. The soup was well blended, the salty edge of the broth countering nicely with small chunks of fish and vegetable. The duck's liver, served with browned circles of more French bread, was rich and smooth.

L'Angelus is a warm, inviting place even when you're sitting outside. The buttery yellow walls emanate soft light, while old French posters of fat chefs look down serenely upon patrons. A broad, dark wood bar with perfectly rounded edges frames the place. It is a leaning, sitting and looking kind of establishment.

Gabriel de Balasy, one of the owners of L'Angelus, had just returned from Paris on the evening we had dinner. He charged into the restaurant with bags still crammed full and a small satchel of groceries ("yes, from France, never mind customs") in his arms. Recharged from a quick nip of pastis, he joined us to discuss his restaurant and its evolving neighborhood.

Here is a portly, thickly bearded man who "only cooks when he needs to"

"We were initially attracted to Club Street as it was a quiet place and a very romantic atmosphere," he explained. "The neighborhood continues to change every few years. But I didn't expect it to be how it is now. I couldn't expect so much success.

With its rapid-fire pace and fickle patrons, Singapore restaurants tend to open quick and fold quick. "Only a few restaurants in Singapore are over four or five years old," de Balasy said. "We have been fortunate to be around for as long as we have.

Club Street is an unusual part of Chinatown because this is where the local neighborhood association started. Big Chinese families settled on this street." de Balasy could not comment further on the nature of his relations with these famed families, offering instead a mute grin and a change of subject.

"Our decision to come to Singapore was somewhat random. We had a restaurant in Paris and the business was tough. After 5 years there we just lost the mood. We were working like hell for nothing. But we had friends in Singapore and they suggested we visit. In 1997 we came out to see them. At that time, of course, Singapore was no fun but we had a good feeling, so we moved here."

The city is not what it was from the short time ago when de Balasy and his business partner relocated. "The political and social climate of Singapore has changed dramatically since then and is more relaxed than before. Places with spirit have opened. Before, there was no place like Club Street. But we never make any political comment on the society here," de Balasy added, waving his hands.

Interested in letting de Balasy unpack from his long trip, and in seeing a bit more of Club Street itself, we finished our meal and walked next door to Union Bar. The lychee, a favored ingredient to many an uninspired bar across Asia, also figures heavily into the offerings at Union. But here something more was added to the mix: the lychee Champaign. We ordered two and took stock of things.

Kelly Ng, public relations manager for the two-year old Union, was busily wiping down tables in a tight cheongsam but managed to join us for a chat about the surrounds.

"Club Street fits into Chinatown by being a popular, diverse street. Foreigners like it here, but also Chinese executives and those with higher profiles," she said.

"The who's who of Singapore come here for dinner. This is where to find fine cuisine," she added, giving us the hard sell of any skilled PR chief.

And indeed, outside on the street advertising executives mingled with pushcart peddlers selling fermented bean cakes, squid sticks and other sundries from Southern China.

We left Club Street that night with no major revelations on the pressing issues facing Chinatown, no particular insight into the pull and push of the local and foreign communities that have evolved there. But we did feel quite content with what had transpired.

Chinatown has long set the tone in Singapore and Club Street, with its old style houses, international cuisine and swish bars, and it still hits just the right note.

------------------------------------- Babuyo 8 Ann Siang Hill Singapore Tel: +65 6225 9036 babuyo@singnet.com.sg

L'Angelus 85 Club Street Singapore Tel: 225 68 97

Union Bar 81 Club Street Singapore Tel: 6327 4990 union@gastronomical.biz -------------------------------------------------