Chow Kit is better known for its unsavory after-dark activities than for its edible offerings, but that doesn't stop old folks, young folks, moms and dads and kids - doughheads of all stripes - from flocking to this stall at the end of Lorong Haji Taib 5, the heart of the red light district, for mee cendawan, wheat noodles with mushrooms and pork.
Tucked into a corner next to the building housing the Malaysian Chinese Association, Tian Ya Ker is the home of some of the finest noodles in town. Yong Chin Seng and his wife (she cooks, he directs traffic and gabs with the customers) have been working from this slab of pavement for thirty years. Since this isn't a part of town that invites wandering, most of their traffic is repeat customers.
Many vendors in Malaysia proffer homemade mee, but not nearly as many make their noodles right on the spot. To the left of Yong's wife's cooking station, at a stainless steel prep table pushed up against the wall of a building, a spry aunty - who doesn't quite reach my shoulder but nonetheless strikes me as entirely capable of taking on just about anyone who looks at her the wrong way - turns flour and water into dough smooth as silk, then rolls it out with an empty beer bottle.
She cuts it by hand, eyeballing the noodles' width as she goes, then shakes the noodles loose before piling them in a basket that goes behind the cooking area, waiting to be depleted (the wait isn't long; aunty prepared two batches of noodles as we ate).
Each order of soup is prepared separately, then combined with the noodles.
The result is sublime: thick, substantial noodles - a bit wider than your average pan mee - with the chewy firmness of northern Chinese-style dao shao mian (knife cut noodles), in a cloudy, funghi-licious broth packed with sliced fresh shiitakes, mustard greens, and pale strips of pork.
There's so much good stuff going on in this bowl it's difficult to pinpoint the highlights, but the slippery, super wheaty dough strips and the fragrant mushrooms are immediate attention grabbers. This mee cendawan only gets better as you eat. As the seconds pass the noodles give up starch, transforming soup - by the time the bottom of the bowl is in sight - into a thickened mushroom stew.
Tian Ya Ker's popiah (fresh spring rolls) are praiseworthy as well.
The obviously fresh skins are paper thin but nicely chewy. In spite of their delicacy, they're well up to the task of holding together a filling of teeny dried shrimp, peanuts, boiled jicama, omelet strips, and nubs of crisp-tender long beans without falling apart. The forward flavor of the filling ingredients (over chile paste) and a hefty dose of white pepper make these popiah especially memorable. Tauhu bakar (grilled crispy tofu, split and stuffed with shredded cucumber and topped with a black shrimp paste based sauce and chopped peanuts), though delicious, pales in comparison.
Tian Ya Ker's noodles are the first I've not felt compelled to doctor with the housemade sambal - garlicky sour loveliness that it is - the broth and ingredients are that good. Perhaps it's 30 years' experience that lends such flavor. Or perhaps it's the muscle that goes into making the noodles, or the little bit of love that goes into the soup pot.
Tian Ya Ker Mee Cendawan, front of 32A Lorong Haji Taib 5, Chow Kit, Kuala Lumpur. 7am-5pm. Closed Tuesday.