Sin Kian Heng Noodle – My Secret Breakfast Spot in Sin Ming

Let me let you in on a little secret — this is where I come for breakfast every week. Hidden in Sin Ming lies a humble stall that I’ve fallen deeply in love with: Sin Kian Heng Noodles.

For nearly a year, I’ve made the weekly pilgrimage here. My curiosity was first piqued by the name. You see, I grew up eating a similar bowl of noodles at Kebun Bahru Food Centre during my teenage years — and that stall also went by the name Sin Kian Heng. It made me wonder: could they be related?

Well, I finally got the answer. During a recent visit, I chatted with the friendly uncle behind the stall and found out that the now-defunct Ang Mo Kio branch was opened by his brother’s disciple. And the brother? None other than the one who runs Lam’s Abalone Noodle, a name that carries its own culinary legacy.

But let’s talk about the bowl that keeps me coming back week after week — the Braised Pork Trotter Noodles. Springy noodles tossed with house-made chilli and vinegar, crowned with an insanely tender pork trotter that’s been braised till every bite melts in your mouth. The gelatin-rich gravy coats the noodles with a savoury slickness, offset by the heat and acidity of the sauce. Every bite is anchored by the crunch of golden pork lard — sinful, but essential.

Off to the side, a quiet little condiment sits — the chilli sauce. It doesn’t scream for attention, but it should. A single dip brings searing heat, the kind that builds gradually, leaving you wiping your brow and coming back for more.

On certain mornings, I also order their Xiao Wan Mian soup, deceptively humble yet deeply flavoured. The broth is robust, anchoring the delicate meatballs and noodles with umami warmth. There’s something about eating this dish that feels like stepping back into my childhood — familiar and comforting. And when I found out that the owners were actually my neighbours back in the day, it felt even more fated.

Over the years, I’ve captured this stall many times — the photos you see here were taken across numerous visits since 2022. Each image is a timestamp of my quiet devotion to this place, a visual record of comfort found in repetition.

There are no flashy signboards here, no queues engineered by social media. Just the quiet hum of regulars, the soft clatter of bowls, and a stall that’s clearly cooking from memory and heart.But now that I’ve shared it with you… please ah, don’t finish all the trotters before I get there!