The dishes were placed in a circle on the table, like a painter’s palette of the hawker centre’s finest offerings: tender, poached chicken served with rice cooked in broth and redolent of ginger, garlic and pandan leaves; savoury fried radish cakes topped with spring onions; spicy fish-ball laksa with thick vermicelli noodles and strips of bean curd that exploded with rich coconut curry broth when bitten into.
It was a typically hot, muggy Singaporean day in mid-April, and a lunchtime crowd had converged at the food hall in the heart of Chinatown, across from a Buddhist temple in an area busy with souvenir stands, shophouses and cafés. I was on my first visit to the island city-state, and unlike the many locals who bustled into the food centre for a quick bite that weekday at noon, I had arrived there not as a pit stop, but as a destination.
There is, of course, much for a traveller to see in the Lion City. On just 730 square kilometres of land – smaller than the city of Calgary – there are luxury resorts and opulent megacasinos, beaches, botanic gardens, riverboat rides, amusement parks and light shows that light up the night sky. It is dubbed the “city in a garden,” for the lush greenery that covers nearly half the land, the tropical beauty preserved through policy throughout Singapore’s famous ascension from colonial outpost to a thriving global metropolis, in a single generation.
But, there is perhaps no attraction that captures Singapore’s identity and pride better than its humble hawker centres, or food halls.
Singapore’s hawker culture dates back to the late 1800s, when migrants primarily from China, Malaysia, India and Indonesia sold affordable meals on the street, often out of portable stoves and push carts, as a relatively easy way to make money. After Singapore was established as a sovereign city-state in 1965, street hawkers proliferated alongside rapid urbanization, and the government – looking to crack down on the food safety and traffic concerns they posed – established the hawker centres we know today, consolidating vendors in complexes with running water, electricity and sanitation.
There are now more than 110 hawker centres across the city-state, totalling more than 13,000 individual food stalls, each specializing in just a few dishes, together reflecting Singapore’s ethnic mosaic. So central to Singapore’s identity are these community dining rooms that hawker culture was inscribed on the 2020 UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.
My visits to various hawker centres over several days are equal parts for sustenance and sightseeing. At the Chinatown Complex, I watch as one chef prepares an order of char kway teow, his metal spatula clanging against his wok as he stir-fries the charred, chewy rice-noodle dish. Steps away, a winding lineup leads to the Hawker Chan stall, where chef Chan Hon Meng chops up and plates the signature soy-sauce chicken that won his shop the distinction of being one of the world’s first – and cheapest – hawker stalls to receive a Michelin star, in 2016. The lineup is so long, though, I don’t get a chance to order.
At Tekka Centre in Little India, I stand fanning myself in the heat and humidity, watching a chef ladle dosa batter onto a hot grill and drizzle it with ghee before rolling up the paper-thin pancake and serving it with chutney and sambar, a vegetarian lentil-based stew. Nearby, another hawker prepares teh tarik, or pulled tea, a South Asian milk tea named for the method of “pulling” the tea between two vessels until it’s frothy.
It is all a veritable theme park for foodies.
Anthony Ang, a local guide, lights up when asked about his favourite dishes, listing off Hainanese chicken rice, Malaysian coconut rice (nasi lamak) and the Indian flatbread roti prata.
“And, of course my own Peranakan food, because it’s a labour of love,” Ang said, referring to the natural fusion of Chinese, Malay and Indonesian flavours and cooking methods distinct to the region. “A lot of spices go into it, there’s a lot of slow cooking, stewing. A lot of it is very complex. In fact, some Americans describe it very aptly to me as a very textured cuisine, because of the layers of spices infused in the spice mix.”
In a country that has consistently been ranked one of the world’s most expensive, Singapore’s hawker prices have hardly increased over the years, with most dishes going for between $2 and $4. That’s led to questions about the sustainability of the culture amid inflation, soaring costs for raw materials and a drop in the number of Singaporeans entering the business. In response, the Singapore government in 2020 launched apprenticeship and incubation programs designed to mentor young hawkers and reduce their rental costs.
Ang said young hawkers have also made efforts to breathe new life into the culture with modern takes on familiar foods, citing as an example ayam buah keluak, a traditional Peranakan dish of chicken in gravy, being reimagined as a burger.
(In 2016, Singapore’s contemporary Candlenut restaurant, where chef Malcolm Lee and his team put a modern spin on decades-old, traditional recipes, became the world’s first Peranakan eatery to earn a Michelin star.)
In between meals, I visit Singapore’s other attractions. At Sentosa Island, what was once a former British military fortress and then a Japanese prisoner-of-war camp is now a sprawling family-friendly resort. I hop on a cable car and traverse over a theme park, aquarium, waterpark and several beaches.
At the Singapore Botanic Gardens, the city-state’s first UNESCO World Heritage Site, I wander the National Orchid Garden, oohing and ahhing at thousands of species and hybrids, hanging back just a little longer in the “cool house,” a mercifully air-conditioned spaced designed to replicate a high-altitude mountain forest.
I visit Marina Bay Sands, a feature of the Singapore skyline with its boat-shaped SkyPark – advertised as the longest occupiable cantilevered structure in the world – sitting atop three hotel towers. In the sweltering heat of the 57th floor deck, I order a cocktail and peer enviously at the swimmers in the nearby infinity pool.
Between postcard-perfect tourist destinations, I look out the car window at spotless streets, lush green space and the thoughtfully designed public-housing buildings in which some 80 per cent of the population live. Housing here is available and affordable, there is virtually no homelessness and scant (albeit slightly increasing) drug use. The streets are incredibly safe.
In addition to its reputation as being one of the world’s richest countries and a foodie’s paradise, Singapore is widely known for its notoriously strict laws. (“Don’t chew gum!” friends chided me more than once, referencing the government’s 1992 ban on selling or importing the product after deeming it a nuisance.) Habitual panhandling is punishable by imprisonment and drug trafficking by death; news media are tightly controlled, and there is little tolerance for dissent.
Around the time of our visit, three pro-Palestinian protesters unfurled a banner calling for an end to Singapore’s arms trade with Israel, triggering a police investigation. Under Singaporean law, public assemblies require police permits, but police stated that none would be issued related to the Israel-Hamas conflict; an October news release reminded Singaporeans that police would never grant any for assemblies that “may have the potential to stir emotions and lead to public order incidents.”
I wondered about the public attitudes toward the way of life here, where discipline and the ceding of some personal freedoms were rewarded with stability, security and a rich diversity of culture and cuisine. I put the question to my guide.
“We all understand that it’s for our own good,” Ang said. “Yes, there is some dissent and some unhappiness, but generally, you take a balance of things. When we travel overseas and come back, we know it’s good to be home. You can sense it: convenience, safety, security, cleanliness, organized. A little too organized sometimes, but yeah.”
If you go
In April, Air Canada launched a direct flight from Vancouver, the only non-stop link between Canada and Singapore. The 16-hour flight runs four times a week, year-round. The city-state is located one degree north of the equator, which means Singapore is hot and humid year-round. Pack breathable, loose-fitting clothing and note that some restaurants have dress codes, such as no shorts or sandals. Weather forecasts will often predict rain, but even fleeting thundershowers are rarely enough to require a change in plans.
Where to stay
The Four Seasons is a five-star option in a highly walkable area, just off Singapore’s main shopping street, Orchard Road. For families with young children, the Shangri-la Singapore offers a range of programming including six water-play areas, an interactive indoor play space and supervised activities. The Mondrian Duxton, a boutique hotel in Singapore’s historic Chinatown district, is a popular choice for young couples, while the newly opened Mercure Icon Singapore City Centre is an ideal option for budget travellers with rooms at an average rate of US$130/night.
The writer was a guest of Air Canada, which did not review or approve the story before publication.