Chun Kee Pan Mee

March 2010

Doughy noodles seem to enjoy a popularity in the Klang Valley that is unmatched anywhere else in Malaysia. In most other states, egg noodles, fine wantan style noodles, and vermicelli prevail, but not in KL. KL-ites like it thick, apparently, and the thicker and starchier it is, the better.

Which explains why gooey Hokkien noodles that are reminiscent of massive rat’s tails are so popular. Ditto with pan mee, which – literally meaning flat-asa-board noodles – are hand-pulled and served either in long chewy strands or torn into big earwiggy bits.

An exponent of skinny noodles, I’ve always been ambivalent at best about their fat cousins. The copious quantities of sauce required to coat the surface area of the noodles plus the waste of stomach space on flour/rice/wheat just seem gratuitous. But let’s face it: exceptions will always surface, and surface they have in the form of Chun Kee’s pan mee.

Housed in a charmingly decrepit bungalow deep in the loins of PJ Old Town, the pan mee here has become the stuff of legend, and of two things you can be absolutely certain: 1) finding a table at lunchtime is nigh impossible and 2) you will sweat buckets. Served either dry with thick sweet sauce or in a broth with a depth of flavour that can only be gleaned from hours of patiently slow boiling pork bones and dried anchovies, Chun Kee’s pan mee is superb.

The springy, chewy yet simultaneously acquiescent texture of the hand-made noodles is eloquently contrasted by the crunchy saltiness of deep-fried anchovies, fried shallots, minced pork and water spinach. For extreme flavour raiders who are not content with the rich nourishment of the broth, the fiesty home-made sambal is guaranteed to up the fiery ante of the meal (hence the excessive perspiration that is part and parcel of eating here). It’s cheap, it’s bloody good and – if you’re not already a fan of pan mee – it’ll definitely make a convert out of you. Fay Khoo