There is something wonderfully reassuring about a restaurant where the signboard is weathered, the claypots have clearly seen better days, and food arrives at the table still furiously bubbling.
Restoran Onn Kee Jaya 安记砂煲鱼头汤 is that sort of place.
In Malaysia and Singapore, we commonly call restaurants like this zhu char (煮炒) – literally “cook and fry”. They are neither fine dining nor easily boxed into Cantonese, Hokkien, Teochew or any single regional cuisine. Over the years, zhu char has developed an identity of its own: familiar Chinese dishes adapted to local tastes, cooked quickly over fierce heat, with a good dose of wok hei when the dish calls for it.
Onn Kee serves a very good rendition of Malaysian Chinese cuisine.
The owner-chef is originally from Sitiawan, Perak, bringing his interpretation of northern Malaysian zhu char flavours south to Johor Bahru, where he has been cooking for more than 20 years.
Don’t come for the walls
Onn Kee is simple.
Instead, a small handwritten menu board hangs on the wall.
And somehow, that tells you quite a lot about the place.
When you walk into an old-school restaurant like this, there is a certain confidence in its simplicity. The owner isn’t trying very hard to sell you the food before you’ve eaten it.
The dishes are expected to do the talking.
And at Onn Kee, quite a few of them arrive talking rather loudly – in bubbling claypots.
Where the claypot earns its keep
Clay vessels have been used for cooking in China for thousands of years, and there is good practical reason they have survived.
Clay heats gradually and retains heat exceptionally well. Even after leaving the stove, the pot continues cooking at the table. Sauces simmer, moisture evaporates and flavours become increasingly concentrated.
At Onn Kee, the claypots arrive bubbling. And continue bubbling while everyone waits impatiently for someone brave enough to lift the lid and take the first scoop.
That first lift is part of the pleasure. Steam rushes upwards, momentarily obscuring whatever is inside, followed almost immediately by a concentrated burst of aroma.
Then the steam clears and reveals itself, still boiling away.
We tried several dishes – Fish Head Soup, Vinegar Pork Trotters, Salted Fish Pork Belly Claypot and Stir-fried Dragon Chives. Their fried chicken is apparently another crowd favourite, but unfortunately it was unavailable during our visit.
Everything was good, but two dishes particularly stood out.
Claypot Fish Head Soup
The signature fish head soup arrived dangerously close to overflowing – rather like a river during monsoon season.
Onn Kee certainly isn’t stingy with the ingredients.
The fish was fresh and clean-tasting, without a hint of fishiness. Slices of napa cabbage brought sweetness and a little crunch to a broth that was deep, savoury and mildly salty.
There was something especially reassuring about drinking the soup freshly cooked and piping hot. It had that comforting sense of homeliness – the sort of soup that makes you instinctively reach for another bowl.
But then came the part that separates it from what most of us could reproduce in our own kitchens: the distinct wok hei running through the broth.
There was a smoky depth to the soup that couldn’t simply be achieved by simmering ingredients together at home. Somewhere in the cooking process, fierce restaurant heat had left its mark, giving an otherwise comforting fish soup an extra dimension. The soup was both complex and familiar at the same time.
Vinegar Pork Trotters
The other surprise was the vinegar pork trotters.
It sounds like a straightforward dish, but getting the balance right is surprisingly difficult. Too much acidity and every mouthful becomes an exercise in how tightly you can purse your lips.
Onn Kee gets the balance right.
Sweetness from the vinegar arrives first rather than an aggressive sourness. The tartness follows more gently, cutting through the richness of the pork without overwhelming it.
The trotters are cooked until the meat can practically be separated with a spoon, while the skin retains a mild chew before giving way.
Better still is the sauce. Collagen released from the trotters during cooking gives it a lightly gelatinous consistency, allowing that sweet-and-sour vinegar gravy to cling beautifully to the pork.
Rich, sticky, sweet, tart – and very difficult to stop eating.
There is nothing particularly glamorous about On Kee. It is a straightforward neighbourhood restaurant with old claypots, handwritten dishes on the wall and a chef who has been standing behind the stove for more than two decades.
But perhaps restaurants like this don’t need much decoration.
When the claypot lands on the table still bubbling, the lid comes off and that first cloud of steam hits you in the face, nobody is looking at the walls anyway.