Don't waste your time coming here.
Don't be taken in by the huge crowd.
And don't listen to internet rumours that this is the real deal.
It is just hype.
Their customers are here for the slices of tender deboned kembung(a rarity in Penang nowadays) not to mention cheap price ($3).
Declining numbers of this used to be poor mans fish,coupled with the subsequent cravings of kembung lovers unwilling to hunt down this elusive and fast selling species in the wet markets,gave rise to those who vouch for this outlet to completely erase and forgive all the cons,just so they can sleep happy after having tucked in here.
Let's start with the soup.It tastes of gum piercing assam,immersed in unrefined belacan(leaning more towards about to ferment he ko) that reeks of kembung blood.Because of the frenzied pace coping with orders,the mint and cucumbers have been precut enmass,exposed to air way too long,thus have lost their crunchiness,zing and flavour,while the pineapple is the lightest coloured sucked the yellow out of its life species,so sour n hard.As for the onions,they are chewy.At this point I come to the realisation that they probably cut the veges and duly keep them in the refrigerator overnight.
And..and...what's this.....?
Sacre Bleu! There's 2 quarters of a deep fried fishball inside too!
When the demunitive foreign waitress brings you your order and you start opening your purse,she will give a quick once over at your purse's contents and immediately demand like she is THE TAUKAY chanting "bagi wang kecik,bagi wang kecik,bagi wang kecik" for small change.
Wei.so much business got no small change wan ah?
I dare say this the most awful assam laksa in the world.
Owing to the nature of the area being a concentration of cybercafes,karaokes etc,the coffeeshop that spills over to a passageway meant for vehicles,is filled with all kinds of characters.Thus you will inevitably be rubbing shoulders with some rough looking blokes,pai kias and charlottes,making the entire kopitiam resemble a gangsters den straight out of a page torn out from run down Kowloon eateries.
Even with their families in tow,the crowd looks like a chinese version of Dickens faggins community,dotted by the occasional office workers and church goers dressed in their Sundays best.
Honestly,even the most humblest of school canteens to the worst of 3 star hotels can come up with a better dish than this,though of course their version contains minimal fish or canned sardines which enthusiasts of this shop will turn their nose up to.
Maybe that's the problem.
See,when you go to the counter to place your order,you will be confronted by a open display container of unprocessed kembung fish(as proof to customers)chillin' in a pool of melted red ice.
The red comes from the fish blood.Since there is no drainage,the fish absorbs the smell of the blood.
Oh yucks.
Lastly if you cannot identify who to place your order from(whether the skinny local man or plump foreign lady),ask the foreign drink waiter and he will start waving his hand about wildly without actually pointing at the correct person,leaving your riddle unsolved.and you open to further embarassment.
Don't be taken in by the huge crowd.
And don't listen to internet rumours that this is the real deal.
It is just hype.
Their customers are here for the slices of tender deboned kembung(a rarity in Penang nowadays) not to mention cheap price ($3).
Declining numbers of this used to be poor mans fish,coupled with the subsequent cravings of kembung lovers unwilling to hunt down this elusive and fast selling species in the wet markets,gave rise to those who vouch for this outlet to completely erase and forgive all the cons,just so they can sleep happy after having tucked in here.
Let's start with the soup.It tastes of gum piercing assam,immersed in unrefined belacan(leaning more towards about to ferment he ko) that reeks of kembung blood.Because of the frenzied pace coping with orders,the mint and cucumbers have been precut enmass,exposed to air way too long,thus have lost their crunchiness,zing and flavour,while the pineapple is the lightest coloured sucked the yellow out of its life species,so sour n hard.As for the onions,they are chewy.At this point I come to the realisation that they probably cut the veges and duly keep them in the refrigerator overnight.
And..and...what's this.....?
Sacre Bleu! There's 2 quarters of a deep fried fishball inside too!
When the demunitive foreign waitress brings you your order and you start opening your purse,she will give a quick once over at your purse's contents and immediately demand like she is THE TAUKAY chanting "bagi wang kecik,bagi wang kecik,bagi wang kecik" for small change.
Wei.so much business got no small change wan ah?
I dare say this the most awful assam laksa in the world.
Owing to the nature of the area being a concentration of cybercafes,karaokes etc,the coffeeshop that spills over to a passageway meant for vehicles,is filled with all kinds of characters.Thus you will inevitably be rubbing shoulders with some rough looking blokes,pai kias and charlottes,making the entire kopitiam resemble a gangsters den straight out of a page torn out from run down Kowloon eateries.
Even with their families in tow,the crowd looks like a chinese version of Dickens faggins community,dotted by the occasional office workers and church goers dressed in their Sundays best.
Honestly,even the most humblest of school canteens to the worst of 3 star hotels can come up with a better dish than this,though of course their version contains minimal fish or canned sardines which enthusiasts of this shop will turn their nose up to.
Maybe that's the problem.
See,when you go to the counter to place your order,you will be confronted by a open display container of unprocessed kembung fish(as proof to customers)chillin' in a pool of melted red ice.
The red comes from the fish blood.Since there is no drainage,the fish absorbs the smell of the blood.
Oh yucks.
Lastly if you cannot identify who to place your order from(whether the skinny local man or plump foreign lady),ask the foreign drink waiter and he will start waving his hand about wildly without actually pointing at the correct person,leaving your riddle unsolved.and you open to further embarassment.
