“Dai Lok Mee” literally translates to big fat noodles. More commonly known as KL-style Hokkien Mee, the dish is closely associated with Kuala Lumpur and is said to trace its local origins to 1927, when Fujian immigrant Ong Kim Lian began frying thick noodles in dark soy sauce. While northern Malaysian versions of fried Hokkien Mee tend to be lighter in colour and braised with stock, Kuala Lumpur went in quite the opposite direction.
There are plenty of famous places for Dai Lok Mee around KL, but we stumbled upon S.K Lim in an older part of Subang Jaya. Along a street seemingly littered with Bak Kut Teh restaurants, this place caught our attention.
We arrived around 6:30pm on a weekday and managed to snag the last available table. Shortly afterwards, a queue quickly formed outside. S.K Lim occupies two shoplots: one essentially dedicated to the kitchen and the other to seating.
The Blacker the Better
Different restaurants have their own interpretation of Dai Lok Mee. Some fry their noodles relatively dry; others leave considerably more gravy.
S.K Lim seems to have found that wonderful middle ground.
There is just enough sauce to make everything slippery and slurpable without turning the plate into noodle soup. Too dry and eating Dai Lok Mee starts becoming unnecessary exercise. Here, every strand arrives slicked in a dark, savoury coating that keeps you happily moving from one mouthful to another.
A good Dai Lok Mee begins with a rich stock, reduced together with the noodles and dark soy sauce until everything develops that characteristic jet-black sheen. There was considerable depth here: savoury, slightly sweet and loaded with umami, with wok hei lingering underneath it all.
What exactly goes into their stock?
We don’t know.
Some restaurants use seafood stock; others incorporate ingredients such as dried flounder for additional umami. Whatever S.K Lim does, we decided it was none of our business. No self-respecting chef is going to reveal every trade secret anyway.
Just eat with a grateful heart.
Pork Lard Is Not Optional
A warning for gym rats and anyone currently counting macros: perhaps look away now.
SK. Lim generously scatters crispy pork lard throughout its Dai Lok Mee. Not an obscene amount, but enough that practically every mouthful carries that unmistakable fragrance of rendered pork fat.
And yes, you can order extra. Removing pork lard from Dai Lok Mee would almost constitute a criminal offence against the dish. If your heart is feeling particularly brave, order more.
The pork slices were tender, while the cabbage retained a pleasant bite rather than surrendering into the limp, soggy afterthought vegetables sometimes become in heavily braised noodles.
Another important detail was what we didn’t taste.
Yellow Chinese noodles can occasionally carry an unpleasant alkaline flavour from the manufacturing process. Here, it was virtually absent, allowing that rich sauce to dominate without interference.
Chopsticks in. Grab a ridiculous knot of noodles. Get a few crispy pieces of pork lard onto the spoon. Slurp.
Then everything arrives together: deep umami, gentle sweetness, smoky wok hei, toasted pork fat, slippery sauce, crispy lard and tender-chewy noodles.
Table manners can wait.
And Then There Was Fried Rice
The Sambal Fried Rice didn’t disappoint either. It wasn’t greasy, and the sambal provided enough heat to wake up the palate without bullying everything else into submission.
You could still taste the natural fragrance of the rice alongside pieces of Lap Cheong (Chinese sausage), bringing little bursts of sweet, savoury richness.
Surprisingly, however, one of our other favourites was something far less glamorous.
Vegetables.
SK. Lim uses the larger, stalkier variety of choy sum, which is naturally sweeter and crunchier. It arrived stir-fried with a generous number of plump prawns.
And the wok hei was glorious. Not the sort that tastes as though someone accidentally set fire to dinner, but a controlled smokiness clinging to the crunchy vegetables. The freshness and slight sweetness of the choy sum provided exactly the relief we needed between mouthfuls of our heavy-hitting carbohydrate mains.
Something While You Wait
The noodles can take a little while to arrive, so we ordered fried chicken wings to keep the hunger pangs under control. Because who doesn’t love a good chicken wing?
Nothing complicated or revolutionary. Just a good fried chicken wing doing its job.
The Humble Belly Verdict
What did we like most about S.K Lim?
There is something wonderfully unapologetic about eating here.
Table manners are not a prerequisite. Nobody is judging your dietary choices. And a request for extra pork lard is probably understood rather than questioned.
Dai Lok Mee isn’t supposed to be delicate. It is dark, rich, smoky, slippery, porky and deeply comforting. At S.K. Lim, all those elements come together particularly well.
How good was it?
We made a repeat visit before the week ended.