Page 117 - Our Hawker Stories

I woke up, yawning, and my gaze focused on the
nightstand. A picture of my younger self grinned back
at me. I gingerly reached for the picture with my old,
wrinkly hand and was reminded of my past.

As the eldest son, I was my family’s second generation
of hawkers. It was only natural that I would go on to take
over the family business in Boon Keng Hawker Centre.
Every day, I got up at dawn to prepare the laksa gravy.
My regular customers often complimented my laksa,
calling it a gastronomical delight - simple goodness in
every bowl. Long hours, heat, grease, and aching feet
were part of my life. I still had my old apron, stained from
years of cooking. My laksa bowl is served with al dente
noodles, thick coconut broth, chock-full of prawns, fish
cake, and tofu puffs.

Hawker centres reflect our multicultural identity - my
sambal was adapted from my father’s malay neighbours,
and the addition of prawn shells reflects our thrifty
chinese heritage. Throughout my day, I would meet “Through my family’s laksa stall, I learnt that
people from all walks of life. Hawker centres have hawker food isn’t just about taste — it’s a
different stalls side by side. Malay, chinese, peranakan, legacy of culture, resilience, and love passed
and all the stalls sell various types of food, but they all down generations.”
had the same goal: to feed the Singapore population. My
father pedalled his food on the streets when he arrived
in Singapore. As Singapore progressed, hawker centres Wu Xiyu
were built to bring street vendors into a more sanitary P5.2
environment. Over time, hawker centres evolved into North Spring Primary School
what we know today – community spaces where people
from different cultures can bond over food.

“Tan Wei Lim!” My wife’s shriek snapped me out of my
thoughts. A new day begins, and I am serving the same
old laksa with flavours for all to enjoy.

Our Hawker Stories 113