Meng Kitchen at Tam Chiak Kopitiam Kovan: JB-Style Zichar That Steals the Show

When the team behind Meng Kitchen (铭厨房) from Taman Sri Tebrau, Johor Bahru, approached me about opening a stall at Tam Chiak Kopitiam Kovan, I was genuinely excited. I’ve known about their reputation for hearty JB-style zichar, and it felt like the perfect fit for our neighbourhood coffeeshop.

Now that they’ve settled in, I can confidently say — it’s everything I hoped for and more. Meng Kitchen brings with them the warm, punchy, unpretentious flavours of JB-style zichar — and the neighbourhood is loving it.

Their curry fish head ($28) is the kind of dish that doesn’t just show up — it announces itself. Thick and creamy with a bold coconut base, the gravy is perfumed with curry leaves, and just enough heat to leave a slow burn. The fish head itself is pristine, the cheeks tender and gelatinous, the flesh flaking apart into the luscious gravy. I found myself doing what every good Singaporean does: ladling spoon after spoon of curry onto my rice until there wasn’t a dry grain left. It’s comforting, rich, and hard to stop eating.

Another dish that goes well with rice is the Indonesian curry prawn. Served in a claypot, the broth tasted somewhat similar like laksa — fiery and deeply fragrant. The prawns arrive shell-on, plump and fresh, each one absorbing the spicy broth like a sponge. It’s a dish made for slurping, dipping, and fighting over. I’d gladly order this again with a side of mantou or just an extra bowl of rice.

One of the defining dishes of the evening was the KL handmade Hokkien mee. Meng Kitchen doesn’t take shortcuts — the noodles are handmade fresh every morning at the kopitiam itself. When an order comes in, they’re wok-fried to order with dark soy sauce and pork lard oil. What arrives at the table is a glossy, charcoal-tinted mound of chewy noodles, bursting with the unmistakable aroma of wok hei. Sweet, savoury, smoky — it ticks every box. If I had to choose just one dish to recommend, this might be it.

The crispy roasted chicken was a crowd-pleaser. It came to us golden and glistening, the skin audibly crisp with every bite. Beneath that exterior was juicy, well-seasoned meat — not too salty, not too dry. It’s simple, classic, and very well executed. The kind of dish that doesn’t try to do too much, but nails what it sets out to do.

For something lighter, the HK-style steamed leopard coral grouper offered a moment of calm in an otherwise flavour-packed meal. The fish was steamed gently with ginger, scallions, and a light soy-based sauce. The freshness of the fish shone through — clean, delicate, and deeply satisfying in its simplicity.

Every meal has a surprise hit, and for us, it was the Ulu Yam handmade fish cake. It may not have the drama of the curry or the allure of wok hei, but one bite in and everyone at the table paused. Lightly fried, subtly seasoned, and boasting a bouncy, handmade texture — this was no ordinary fish cake. It was the kind of quiet, comforting dish that leaves a strong impression.

Meng Kitchen’s menu is wide-ranging, with plenty of other popular dishes like their fried bee hoon with cheese prawns, spicy steamed seafood in assam sauce, and signature tofu. But the best value might just be their crab promotion — 3 crabs for $50, cooked to your liking. Whether it’s chilli, salted egg, black pepper, kam heong, marmite, or creamy butter, it’s a deal that’s already drawing in large groups and supper crowds.

When we sat down that night, I honestly wasn’t even hungry. We had a heavy lunch, and I thought I’d just nibble. But as each dish hit the table — hot, fragrant, impossible to resist — all of us went in for second helpings. Some even asked for extra rice. That says everything.

Meng Kitchen may be new to the neighbourhood, but they’ve brought with them decades of JB know-how and the kind of heartwarming food that reminds us why we love our coffeeshop culture. If you’re heading down, book a table — word has spread, and the crowds are growing. This isn’t just another zichar stall — it’s a new reason to eat at Kovan.