KL Board Noodles, Two Ways

"Board noodles" is the literal translation of pan mee (ban mian in Mandarin), and I can only guess that the name derives from the fact that the dough for the thick wheat noodles that comprise the main ingredient of this dish is rolled out -- flat as a board.

This vendor has been working his noodle dough (note hand-cranked pastsa roller and lumps of unrolled dough on his work table) at a coffee shop in Bangsar for more than ten years.  Noodles, if not rolled and cut to order, are likely no more than an hour old by the time they find their way to your bowl of pan mee (I'm told that one can request noodles to be torn by hand into pieces, rather than cut into strips).

My hungry fascination with the sight of freshly rolled noodles led to a lapse in attention to the task at hand; I forgot to specify "konlo" for my order -- thus the steamy bowl of soup noodles pictured below.

Wilted gai lan leaves, scallions, clearish porky broth, and generously sized chunks of meat -- just your average soup noodle, the type that can be had just about anywhere in China, right?  Not exactly -- what sets this version apart is the hearty chew of the noodles, and what make it deliciously Malaysian are the sizeable sprinkle of crunchy ikan balis (dried and fried anchovies) and the bright green sour-hot dipping sauce that includes ground green chilies, coriander, and kalamansi juice.

Though no longer a pan mee virgin, I'm too much of a novice to assert that this bowl of deliciousness is the best of this type (read further to understand what I mean here) in town.  But I'm looking forward to some rigorous scientific research on the subject.

A few days later, over a lunch of just-OK dim sum at a hotel restaurant that does not merit mention on this blog, I expressed, to my food-obsessed Malaysian dining companions (let it be known: as far as I can tell up to this point, all Malaysians are food-obsessed), my delight at discovering the fresh-noodle pan mee vendor in Bangsar.  "Oh, then you have to try the "special" pan mee at this one shop," SG advised, adding that it is so addictive a relative has developed an at-least-once-a-week habit.  E whipped out his hand phone like a gunslinger in a low-budget Western and immediately produced name, address, and phone number of the purveyor.

Restoran Kin Kin is sited on a seedy Chow Kit back street.  The secret to it's special pan mee is revealed in the Chinese characters on the sign, which tell that the offering here is Fujian-style la jiao pan mee, or pan mee with chili-oil sauce.  Kin Kin's popularity is attested to by the fact that despite the dearth of parking in the area, every single seat at its 18 or 20 tables was occupied, and customers were queued for empty spots, when we arrived a bit after lunch hour at 1:45p. 

We placed our orders -- konlo, this time, with egg -- and grabbed one of two outside tables to wait ... and wait .... and wait.  Mom, dad, and sons moved with careful deliberateness behind the counter to fill the tens or twenties of orders that preceded ours.  A couple of friendly aunty types circulated among tables, taking drink orders (teh si bing -- iced tea with unsweetened condensed milk, for us).  And still we waited....

   

But what a sight to behold when our orders arrived!  A mound of thick round noodles topped with ikan bilis, chopped scallion, a wee bit of table sugar, pork sliced and chopped, and tiny cubes of cracklin', all crowned by a snow-white poached egg.  After adding heaped spoonfuls of the la jiao that makes its way from table to table in a plastic tub, we dug in.  Kin Kin's pan mee delivers on its promise -- ultra chewy noodles and a la jiao light on oil and heavy on slow-roasted chili flavor that elicits a sharp tingle, rather than the sort of tongue-searing burn that might overpower the dish's other tasty ingredients.

The soup that comes on the side with konlo orders is a mix of noodle water+pork broth+egg poaching water; stray bits of egg white and a good amount of (what I am guessing are) tapioca leaves float about the surface.  The leaves make an excellent addition to the noodle.

After we finished eating, mom came out from behind the counter and sauntered over to our table. "Good, yes?" she asked, and appeared pleased -- but not the least bit surprised -- when we enthusiastically nodded yes. 

Find the pasta-rolling pan mee vendor in Bangsar, inside the coffee shop just doors from Nam Chuan Coffeeshop, 2-4 Lorong Ara Kiri, Lucky Garden.

Restoran Kin Kin is at 40 Ground Floor, Jalan Dewan Sultan Sulaiman 1, off Jalan Tunku Abdul Rahman, Chow Kit. Weekdays 7:30am-9pm, weekends 7:30am-4:30pm. Closed last Sunday of the month.

Comments

[omih]

Just got here via Noodlepie.

The website looks great. I must admit I might the only person in Vietnam who isn't quite sure about Vietnamese food - but I remember a particularly happy week in KL when the Indian food especially was fantastic.

Good luck with the blog. I'll keep coming back.

[Robyn]

Thanks omih, for stopping by. I think you are the guy that hooked me up with Nadine in Saigon, so we could donate a couple of bricks, no? How's the KOTO collection going?

No you are not the only person in Vietnam who's not sure about Vietnamese food -- there are some wonderful dishes and "Saigon favorites" highlight the ones I love most ... but I wouldn't personally rate it as the best place to eat in Asia. Right now, for me, that contest would be a draw between Thailand and Malaysia. Look for an KL Indian food post soon.

Cheers,
Robyn

[omih]

Yes that's me - fundraising is going okay - all efforts are now going into helping our cyclo friends (www.extremecharity.info)

I feel I am coming out of a closet even questioning Vietnamese food but I find so much of it bland and uninspiring. I love Thai food though and , of course, Indian food.

I do believe that so much of it is down to hype and Vietnamese food is so hyped that people won't admit to not rating it. As ever that hype is driven by Vietnamese restaurants in Sydney, LA, New York etc - and they are serving food far removed from what is on offer here.

I know the south is very different to the North - where the motto is "if in doubt boil it to within an inch of its life". Going down to Saigon soon to meet out cyclo heroes and hopefully meet up with the pieman.

Enjoy Malaysia - don't know much about Malaysian food but I wish Hanoi had a "Little India".

[Robyn]

My take on Vietnamese food is that the spectrum of flavors is much narrower than Thai and Malaysian food (maybe Malaysia isn't a fair comparison though bec. of the varied influences -- Chinese, Malay, Indonesian, Indian, etc.) and that the regional differences aren't as great, so there's just less to work with. And that's probably why I could eat Thai 3 meals a day everyday for a month but not Vietnamese food -- too much repetition. And I think you're right -- north is a bit more difficult.
But it also sounds like you may be like me --I prefer strong, sometimes even exaggerated flavors, which means it's difficult to appreciate the subtle nuances of some Vietnamese dishes. Pho, for instance. Give me a spicy, fishy, bun mam anyday.
There's a quite decent Indian place in Saigon -- Little India? Little Bombay? a vegetarian place on a second floor, near the Caravelle. Perhaps nothing compared to India but visiting Indians we took to dinner there were quite pleased. Chat are the standouts there.

[Goldensoupandtofoo.blogspot.com]

Hey there, I've actually been reading your blog for several months now and quite enjoy it. It reminds me of home ( I'm from China). I just wanted to point out that the 'ban' in ban mian actually means to mix. The 'ban' that means board has the third tone and the one that is in ban mian is the fourth tone (if I'm not making any sense, just ignore that last sentence). In China, ban mian is sort of just a name for any cold noodles mixed with sauces and vegetables. One of my favourite is this ban mian we make at home with peanut butter, like the cold version of dan dan mian.

Anyways, again great blog. I've actually just started a food blog with a friend based on the many different ethnic foods in Toronto, so if you have any tips or words of wisdom, I would greatly appreciate them.

[Robyn]

Goldensoup -- thanks for your comment.

Actually you and I are both wrong. The character in question (see opening photo) is first tone 'ban' and it means to 'pull' or 'turn' -- which may have some reference to the way that that the noodles are made. For soup, pieces of dough are pulled by hand off of the dough sheet.

I lived in Sichuan for a year and I'm pretty sure there is no such thing as 'cold' dandan mian, ie. there is no liangban dandan mian (that is the 'ban' you're referring to, as in liangban, right?). The dish is by definition a hot one (there may be a cold dish that has some components of dandan mian though). And no dandan mian I've ever encountered in Chengdu has peanut butter in it.

Thanks for reading. You're lucky to be in Toronto, with its great ethnic food scene.

[Pete@ loose green tea]

Hello there, these food are mouth watering, I wish I can have this in the Philippines as well, although we have some Chinese restaurant but most of them or all of them are not that authentic. I don't anything looks similar to the pictures above. Too bad for me. But hopefully someday this will be available here as well. Thanks for sharing this wonderful meal. :)