KUALA LUMPUR, May 9 — “It’s one of those kitchen jobs where no one disturbs you. It’s just you and the meat, and I enjoy that moment of peace,” says Logan Terence Lopez, describing his affinity for butchery.
A towering figure with the demeanour of a gentle giant, the 39-year-old is best known for Wurst, the non-halal deli and restaurant that’s become a crowd favourite in Bangsar’s Lucky Garden.
Interestingly, he actually got his start not far from where he is today. “I left school and was working part-time as a dishwasher at The Mangotree in Bangsar, where Ricky Parlanti was the chef,” he recalls.
“One day, he just sacked me, saying I should aim higher in life. The following day, he called me wanting to talk about enrolling me in KDU — and that’s how it all started.”
Kolej Damansara Utama (KDU) – now called University of Wollongong – has a well-known culinary program.
He’s characteristically cool when I press him on the subject of being sacked and told to go to school. “I guess I’d do the same if I found someone who I think has potential, and if I think fits the bill.”
Lopez is a veteran of the restaurant industry, having worked for airlines, hotels and restaurant groups. — Picture by Choo Choy May
After graduating, Lopez travelled widely, working in “food costing and engineering” for airlines and spending some time in China.
When he returned to Malaysia, he moved through several restaurants. “One of my early experiences was with the Tai Thong Group — I was one of the group’s sous chefs,” he says.
“Then I headed Le Bouchon, and later I worked for a consulting company from Canada, where I set up Asian Heritage Row on Jalan Doraisamy. I used to do all the kitchen designs. Back then, my baby was a place called — I think it’s called The Mansion?”
It wasn’t until Lopez worked with Chef Jochen Kern at Chalet, in the old Equatorial Hotel, that his path to butchery began. “I was actually a saucier first, and I always had issues with my butchers running out of items and all that,” he adds.
“So I decided not to depend on them. I went and got permission from the executive chef to cut whatever meat I needed.”
An exterior shot of Ah Gan. — Picture by Choo Choy May
With no formal training, he leaned on close friends, mentors, and the hard lessons that come from doing things wrong. “Most of the people I’m close to in the industry are much older than me, and I’m never shy to ask them to teach me,” he explains.
“Butchery was part of culinary school, but it’s very different in restaurants. In class, you’ll make mistakes, but you never learn how to be okay with them.”
“You do it wrong? You get a new piece of meat to cut. But in the industry, you make a mistake, and you have to learn how to manage it. What can I turn this into, you know?” he continues.
“Mistakes or not, one thing you must do is be hardworking. You don’t give up just because something doesn’t work.
“The most important thing is to trust yourself. You have to be okay with saying, oh, today wasn’t good. But tomorrow will be better.”
All those years spent learning from mentors and moving through different kitchens eventually pushed Lopez toward opening a place of his own.
“A few years before the pandemic, I started thinking about it,” he recalls. “There was no plan to open Wurst. I just wanted something small, in a basement, something underground.”
“There was this movie… was it La La Land? The first hour is the most boring movie, but when he opens Seb’s, his jazz club down there – I thought, this is what I want!”
Lopez secured a spot in the basement of the MOV Hotel in Bukit Bintang. The owners floated the idea of a sausage and cocktail bar, suggesting the name “The Wurst Bar.”
“Unfortunately, if you want to be on Booking.com and Agoda, you have to provide food,” he says. “So The Wurst Bar tak jadi lah – it just became Wurst.”
For the two years they operated out of MOV, Wurst was pork-free. Even after the pandemic, when Lopez moved the business to Lucky Garden – already his central kitchen – it stayed that way.
“One day, I fell sick and finally had the time to do my costing,” he recalls. “I realised, shit, my losses were really a lot.”
“Just a rough calculation, but for every customer who came to eat at Wurst, I was topping up RM8 on the bill. We just weren’t making enough,” he explains. “So I said, screw it. Let’s do pork.”
Two years on, Lopez has come to relish his porky reputation. “You can’t U-turn back – people now always relate me to pork, so I’d rather just be known as the pork guy.”
That reputation followed him into his next venture: Kedai Makanan dan Minuman Ah Gan, another central-kitchen-turned-restaurant in Seputeh that channels his love for pork into a more casual, everyday format, with dishes like roti babi, pork tendon ball noodles, and even marble butter cake made with lard.
‘Roti babi’ at Ah Gan. — Picture by Choo Choy May
“I’ve had this location for a year now. From here we supply sausages, meats and all that to other restaurants,” he explains. “Actually, I wanted to open (Ah Gan) six months ago. Then I realised, everyone is into kopitiams now. I didn’t want to do that.
“We don’t call this a kopitiam. This is just your local taman eatery. You eat what we have lah. Today there’s soup, you’ll eat that. Tomorrow there’s a special, you’ll eat that.”
As with much of his career, Lopez draws inspiration from the people around him. That shows most clearly in dishes like the roti babi and marble butter cake.
“I’m very close to ‘Uncle’ Jack, who owns Yut Kee,” he says. “It’s out of respect. You can call it an homage or a tribute, but it’s also a little more personal.
“Whenever we meet or sit down, we can really relate and talk about food. Not all business owners and chefs are willing to do that.
“He’s always very open whenever I ask what he thinks or what I should do. So he’s an important part of my journey in this.”
Marble butter cake, made with lard, at Ah Gan. — Picture by Choo Choy May
Other dishes carry different kinds of memories or improvisation. “The pork tendon balls were supposed to be with beef tendon, but I don’t have any beef tendon!” he laughs.
“There was one Chinese aunty who taught me how to make them a long time ago. The sauce is made with pork bones, vinegar, dark soy sauce, ginger, garlic and just a little bit of egg drop.”
Plenty more dishes will make their way onto the menu depending on the whims and fancies of Lopez – vinegar pork trotters are on the horizon, along with the unexpected inclusion of Hakka lei cha.
The decidedly green, tea-centric profile of the latter might seem unusual for a chef so closely associated with meat, but it turns out to be a more honest reflection of who he is.
“I love vegetables. I love vegetables,” he says, repeating himself with fervour. “I can live without meat.”
The serendipitous pork tendon ball noodle. — Picture by Choo Choy May
The interview begins to veer off course at this point, as a friend – one of Lopez’s longtime regulars – jumps in to reminisce about the time they first brought him to their regular lei cha spot in PJ Old Town six years ago.
The mood turns rowdy as they recall how the stall’s aunty took a particular shine to Lopez, expressing her affection with free soup and special treatment.
“The aunty liked him so much, you know,” the friend says, bounding over and gesturing wildly.
“She would be like, ‘Eh, boy, you try this one. Less water, more greens.’ Oi! I’ve been coming here for 30 years, never give me also!”
For all his years in hotels and consulting for big restaurant groups, what Lopez values most now is something far simpler.
“I didn’t open Ah Gan to complicate things,” he admits. “I think of it as a canteen for industrial, working people.
“I never opened this place thinking of replicating any brand. Ah Gan is only a thing because, legally, I need to register the business with a brand. Otherwise, I would just operate without signage.” The name comes from both Lopez and his partner having the letters “G”, “A” and “N” in their names.
Finally, in classic Lopez fashion, he isn’t caught up in trying to aggressively market Ah Gan or even planning for the future. “Mostly, I’m just going to take it one step at a time.”
Lopez chatting with longtime regulars and old friends at Ah Gan. — Picture by Choo Choy May
Wurst
15-G, Persiaran Ara Kiri,
Bangsar, Kuala Lumpur
Open daily, 11am-11pm.
Tel: 012-423 4588
Instagram: @wurst.kl
Kedai Makanan dan Minuman Ah Gan
11-1, Persiaran Syed Putra 3,
Taman Persiaran Desa, Kuala Lumpur
Open Tuesday to Sunday, 10am-5pm
Tel: 012-423 4588
Instagram: @ahganseputeh
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