KUALA LUMPUR, Apr 13 — Of all the simple pleasures afforded to us in this short life, the late-night supper might be my favourite.
It is sustenance for the soul, life-giving nourishment; a tender embrace for the weary worker and the rowdy partygoer alike, offering respite from the day’s horrors.
These days, that respite has become harder to find.
The five-foot way is your dining room.
Ever since the pandemic did a number on small businesses, it’s mostly just the mamak or some Chinese brand (looking at you, Haidilao) keeping the lights on past midnight.
However, a few holdouts remain, especially in older, denser neighbourhoods like Pudu.
Some of these places used to stay open as late as three or four in the morning, serving a steady flow of labourers living nearby and the occasional group spilling out of a KTV.
Most now call it a night just after one.
Even the basic curry mee without roast pork is very good, especially with cockles and pork skin.
One such place is Restoran One Nine Nine One, located a few doors down from the popular Heun Kee Claypot Chicken Rice (now pouring with tourists thanks to a Michelin Bib Gourmand), just across from the Pudu wet market.
To find it, wade through the puddle-strewn dark, past cars parked haphazardly beneath Jalan Yew, and head toward the glow of the fluorescent lights.
It’s one of the few places that still flicker to life around seven, when the night is young and the first regulars start to show up for their fix of curry mee and dim sum.
Young and old stream in, some on a first-name basis with the lovely lady in charge.
“I haven’t seen you in two whole weeks!”
“How is so-and-so?”
When it was my turn, she had “I’ve never seen you before” written all over her face, but in the gentlest way, like how a sweet librarian might wear that expression.
After ordering, I joined the rest of the crowd at one of the tables lining the five-foot way, waiting for my food with the ambient noise of cars flying overhead on the busy thoroughfare, giddy English tourists spilling out of Heun Kee with their local friends — whose put-on English accents somehow sound even thicker — and a tyre exploding with a loud BANG that nobody flinched at but me.
Nothing phases the regulars.
And once I started tucking into my curry mee (RM12), nothing phased me either.
Even in its most basic form, with just yellow noodles, chicken pieces, taufu pok, pork skin and blood cockles, it is a tremendously satisfying bowl.
The zhu pei in particular is delightfully spongey, and the cockles plump and bloody.
If you like the springy texture of ‘wantan mee’ but want to have curry too, you can order it with a side of dry curry on top.
The curry itself is spicy and mostly savoury, with just a touch of acidity for balance.
It’s thick, but not from a load of santan. Instead, it tastes like someone took a pot of chicken and potato curry, made it thinner for noodles, cranked up the heat, and skipped the mild sweetness.
I was salivating at the thought of eating it while drunk out of my mind and parched, even as I ate it stone-cold sober.
For RM15 you can get it with roast pork, which makes everything better.
You can also get it with thin, springy wantan mee instead, though I feel it isn’t optimised for a broth, even with one as thick and full-bodied as this.
You can, however, order a char siew and roast pork wantan mee (RM15) with a load of dry curry ladled over the top, if you really like your wantan mee with curry.
This dry version is chunkier, milder and sweeter, much like a typical chicken and potato curry, which is ideal for the springy, slightly sweet noodles that have been tossed in a mixture of dark soy sauce.
The ‘dim sum’ here is decent too.
Inexplicably, there is dim sum too. Late-night dim sum isn’t a novelty, but seeing it on the same table as curry mee kind of is.
From what I could tell, most tables would order a plate or two, just for something to nibble on.
I’ll level with you: the har gow (RM6) and steamed pork ribs in black bean sauce (RM6) are far from the best dim sum I’ve had.
Look for the faded sign.
But I didn’t really mind. It was decent enough, and when the clock strikes midnight and you’re halfway between bowls of excellent curry mee, I doubt you will either.
Restoran One Nine Nine One
45, Jalan Yew,
Pudu, Kuala Lumpur.
Open daily, 7pm-1.30am. Closed every other Tuesday.
Tel: 03-9282 7404
Facebook: Restoran One Nine Nine One
*This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.
*Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.
*Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more musings on food and mildly self-deprecating attempts at humour.
