Iron Chef is one of my all-time favourite TV shows. No, not the US spin-off but the original 料理の鉄人 produced by Fuji Television.
The dishes created were inventive and looked so appetising, even in the old days without high-definition TV. And even though it was a reality show, it came across as being authentic and not staged.
Except, perhaps, for the overly dramatic Chairman Kaga, who starts each competition with his trademark catchphrase “Allez cuisine!” But it all added to the show’s charm.
Iron Chef was also the first time I came to know about Chen Kenichi (陳建一), who was the long-serving Iron Chef Chinese. He was nicknamed the Sichuan Sage and always appears on-stage holding a large cleaver.
Many years later, when I started travelling regularly to Tokyo for work, I had the chance to eat at Shisen Hanten Nihombashi (四川飯店 日本橋), one of his many restaurants. It was located at the busy and crowded Coredo Muromachi mall, and was a big favourite with the office lunch crowd.
I remember having to leave the office slightly earlier with my colleagues, in order to join the pre-opening queue. If we were just a bit late, the first (and sometimes second) round would fill up, leaving us to hunt for another lunch spot nearby.
Despite being opened by an Iron Chef, it was more of a casual eatery instead of a fancy high-end restaurant. The classic Sichuan dishes were available on the menu, but I always had the mapo tofu teishoku.
And whenever I did, I’d always ask for the maximum spice level. But even then, it would only give me a mild tingle, even after I sprinkled additional Sichuan pepper powder on top. Which impressed my Japanese colleagues tremendously.
One day, I decided to push my luck and asked for a spice level that was beyond their maximum. The waitress narrowed her eyes at my request, and shot me a look that signaled her doubts about my spice tolerance.
It was obvious that I was a gaijin, so she asked which country I was from. And when I replied “Singapore”, she nodded her head ever so slightly and communicated my request to the kitchen.
That was the day I experienced first-hand the true power of Chen Kenichi, the Sichuan Sage and Iron Chef Chinese.
After finishing my entire bowl of mapo tofu, I ended up dripping with sweat from the spiciness. Not just from my forehead, but from the nape of my neck and even the top of my scalp. Since then, I stayed within their prescribed spice levels and had many delicious lunches there.
When his son joined him in the family business and opened Shisen Hanten by Chen Kentaro in Singapore, we went there for lunch with The Old Folks, who gave the food their stamp of approval.
This was before they were awarded two Michelin stars, which they still currently hold. Among the various Sichuan dishes we had that day, I made sure that we ordered the mapo tofu. It was as good as I remembered, proof that the Chen family legacy was intact.
The price point was on the high side though, and it has only gotten higher after the two Michelin stars. We haven’t been back since then, but have satisfied our Sichuan cravings at other restaurants instead.
In an attempt to increase market reach, and make their food more accessible to the common folk, Shisen Hanten has launched Chen’s Mapo Tofu. The menu is limited to their popular dishes, the prices are much more palatable and stores are located in high footfall malls.
One of their newest outlets is located in the Serangoon Nex mall, just a few train stops from us. It celebrated its first anniversary last month, and was offering their signature dishes at a compelling discount.
Their mapo don at the offer price of S$6.90 was very attractive, especially if they could maintain the same taste and quality as their flagship restaurant. Well, there was only one way to find out.
The store was decent-sized, with both counter and table seats. Given the fast food furnishing and payment upon ordering, it was definitely designed for high-volume and quick turnover service.
Despite the generous anniversary offer, the place was quite empty, even though there was ample traffic just outside the entrance. To be fair though, it was a weekday when we went there for lunch. Perhaps business is better over the weekends.
An additional S$5.00 turns the main dish into a set meal, with a choice of appetiser and beverage. We upsized one of our mains and chose a Calamansi juice and Szechwan Popcorn Chicken. The popcorn chicken was alright, I suppose. Passable, but nothing really special.
It’s surprisingly difficult to find decent mapo tofu in Singapore.
While the dish appears in the menus of many Chinese eateries, they usually get the consistency and/or spice level wrong. I’ve had enough watery and bland mapo tofus to avoid them completely, taking my chances only at proper Sichuan restaurants.
The Wife chose the Mapo Mien as her main course. During the ordering process, she was asked for her desired level of spiciness, ranging from Levels 1 to 3. Her tolerance isn’t as high as mine, so she went with the relatively safe choice of Level 2.
The tofu was silky soft and the sauce had a nice consistency — not watery, but not too starchy either. Appearance-wise, it looked quite similar to the mapo tofu at Shisen Hanten Singapore and Tokyo.
Having learnt the hard way, I decided not the pull my previous stunt of going off the charts and chose the Level 3. Yes, it was the highest level on their scale, but at least it was still within the official range.
When our dishes arrived, it wasn’t immediately obvious how much spicier the Level 3 would be compared to the Level 2. Both had the beautiful redness from the chilli oil and clear traces of ground Sichuan pepper.
I took a bite from The Wife’s bowl and it was as good as I remembered. This was the real deal, down to the tongue-tingling numbness from the Sichuan pepper. It packed quite a punch, even at Level 2.
The next bite was a generous scoop from my own bowl. The chilli hit was immediate, and it was powerful. It gave me flashbacks from the extreme version from Shisen Hanten Nihombashi, and I started sweating from my scalp.
But it was an additive kind of spiciness and I had spoon after spoon after spoon, taking sips of the cold calamansi drink in between. It didn’t reach the crazy levels of Nihombashi, but it did come quite close. It was similar to what I like to call “native Thai” levels.
I started salivating again as I’m writing this and looking at the photos. The visual difference between the the Level 2 and 3 is not that obvious, even with a side-by-side comparison.
Yes, the Level 3 does look redder in colour, but honestly not by much. But oh boy, the additional level of spiciness is exponentially higher. The Wife took just one bite from my bowl and that was all that she could manage.
So, if you’re as big a fan of mapo tofu as I am, you might want to give Chen’s Mapo Tofu a try. It’s as good as the one at Shisen Hanten, but at a fraction of the price.
But when you do, please remember to choose your spice level carefully.
