Flight Attendant Opens Hong Kong Dessert Stall At Maxwell Food Centre, From $2 A Bowl

“I decided to open the stall [right after getting the keys] so that I don’t lose too much from paying rent,” she says – despite her hawker stall being situated in the CBD, away from residential areas and the majority of the work-from-home crowd. Understandably, she’s seen a “50 per cent” drop in business after Phase 2 (HA) kicked in, though she remains focused on getting through her studies for now.

Priscilla first thought of going into F&B after being grounded for more than a year (though she’s still getting a basic allowance from the airline she declines to name due to a confidentiality clause). “I wanted to learn and do something, instead of just staying at home,” she explains.

More than that, she wanted to scratch an itch for true blue Cantonese cuisine (her hometown is in Guangzhou, Canton, near Hong Kong, where Cantonese cuisine was born) - particularly, Cantonese desserts. “It’s comfort food for me. I missed it a lot these last five years, especially when I’m overseas [for work],” she says. So she paid a former chef from five-star White Swan hotel in Guangzhou for his Cantonese dessert recipes.

She's confident in what she puts out. She says she has tried popular HK dessert joints here, like Ah Chew’s bowls — but she’s positive hers are better. “If I can provide a nicer version, why not?” she says.

She applied for the Hawkers’ Development Programme as a mentee, where she bolstered her home-cooking skills with business management skills and more culinary training. Eventually, she was taken under the wing of “a kueh stall in Tanjong Pagar” before finally striking out on her own.

Well, that was the plan – Priscilla didn’t secure a stall during the National Environment Agency’s (NEA’s) monthly public tender the first time. Or the second time. In fact, she only snagged her current premises mid-March this year after seven tries – two months after she decided to further her studies at SHATEC, and a month after she’d begun attending lessons.

For now, she’s decided to see the entire diploma through on the “strong encouragement” from classmates and instructors – while operating said hawker stall. The day before her stall was to open, “five to six of her batch mates, as well as their instructor” came down to help Priscilla with food prep prior to service until the wee hours of the morning. The instructor also doled out some practical advice like where to store cutlery, she says.

They also came down to taste her food. “[The feeling] was something that money can’t buy,” she says. Her self-employed husband Chan Yuk Lun, as well as “his whole family” were just as supportive. The Hong Kong-born 32-year-old helps her at the stall for the time-being. Yuk Lun adds, “Now is the chance for her to do something [she loves doing]. There might not always be a chance to do that”.

After all, she didn’t join the hawker industry to make big bucks. “I just want to make enough to survive – it’s more important to make [Cantonese desserts] accurately, and well,” she adds.

That doesn’t mean she’s completely forgotten about her previous job. “I do miss flying,” she says with a laugh. “But [when I resume flying], I’ll be far from my husband and the rest of the family.”

Most of their fare is boiled or steamed. There’re currently seven items – though the plan is for 20 one day, says Priscilla – on the menu, with occasional daily specials like braised pork trotter in vinegar or chicken biscuits (gai zai beng). These are the ones we tried.

One of only two savoury items on the menu, but it’s our favourite dish here. Back in Guangzhou – circa two decades ago – radish cake was a dish that only appeared during Chinese New Year, says Priscilla. People weren’t just less affluent back then – spring was also the best time for radishes. “We call it 不时不食 (bat si bat sik in Cantonese, which means to not eat food that’s not in season),” she says.

Nowadays, things are a little different. Lup cheong and dried shrimp are no longer in short supply. In fact, they’re added liberally to the mix of grated radish and flour before it’s sent to the steamer. Once cooled, they’re sliced and pan-fried to order. It takes a little time, but it’s time well-spent as the young hawker gets crisp, brown edges on all sides (you can opt to buy it unsliced, to fry at home later).

The radish cake within has a creamy, luxurious mouthfeel that makes it feel like Chinese New Year’s here again. It’s even better with their house-made Guilin-style chilli sauce, a sweet-savoury dip brimming with umami from the fermented black bean.

“We usually don’t eat it with chilli sauce back home,” she says. “But the number one thing people here asked me for was, ‘Where’s the chilli?’” And with chilli this good, why leave it out?

Though it looks similar to local Hokkien fave orh kueh, the version served in Hong Kong’s restaurants doesn’t come topped with dried shallots, chilli and spring onions. Structurally though, it’s similar. The taro is cubed, mixed with Chinese sausage and bits of dried shrimp, steamed, sliced and fried. The only difference is five-spice powder – and lots of it. It’s glaringly obvious even through the chilli sauce. If you’re here for a savoury snack, opt for the radish cake instead.

Apparently, these sticky rice balls, tong but lut (as they’re called in Cantonese) are served to potential suitors should parents deem him a suitable match to their daughter. It foretold a sweet marriage that lasts (or sticks, if that isn’t apparent enough).

Glutinous rice flour is mixed with hot water (never cold, or it won’t be chewy and toothsome, says Priscilla) and moulded into little balls by hand, which get a further soak in brown sugar syrup. Thereafter, ground peanuts and sesame are sprinkled on top.

They look much like Japanese dango (petite mochi on a stick slathered in sauce), but taste similar to muah chee, with sugar in the peanut mix swapped for a brown sugar syrup. The syrup is a tad sweeter, and the glutinous rice balls just as bouncy.

While sweet green mung bean soup is common enough here, its traditional Cantonese version, fortified with kelp, is a little rarer. Ah Chew Dessert has a similar offering at $2.60 a bowl (though we’ve never had it there).

This is an earthy, sweet-tasting bowl of tong shui that’s enjoyable enough to slurp. The starches from the mung bean settle quickly (another reason why it’s known as luk dau sha in Cantonese, which literally translates to green bean sand). Any briny flavours the seaweed imparts can’t really be discerned beneath the sweetness of the soup – all it does is adds a little textural crunch, like thin strips of extra stiff agar agar.

This dish is often served for dessert at traditional restaurants in Guangzhou and Hong Kong. It’s a simple construction – water chestnut flour, fresh water chestnut and sugar are combined into a sticky paste which is steamed and sliced. It’s possible to serve it pan-fried or cold – the latter is what they’ve opted for.

The slab is refreshingly sweet and nutty throughout. The cake’s jelly-like consistency yields a clean bite without any gumminess, contrasted with bits of crunchy water chestnut interspersed throughout. Delish.

“This is a dish that any Hong Konger walking past would go straight for,” asserts Priscilla – count us in.

Taro is simply boiled for two to three hours until meltingly soft. The starches from the tuber leak into the soup, which gives the bowl a starchy smoothness that’s quite yummy. It’s a little similar to Teochew orh nee, though this Canto version is lighter, and doesn’t have any shallot oil or lard mixed in. Instead, there’s boba-like sago (it’s made from the pith of tropical palm stems instead of tapioca) for a little texture.

Some places serve it with a splash of coconut milk – which Authentic Hong Kong Delights omits. We miss the lemak richness, though it’s competent enough – and a little less sinful – even without it.

A good place for affordable, generally tasty Cantonese-style desserts — and yummy radish cake — provided the stall is open since it operates only four days a week, when the lady boss isn’t in school.

Authentic Hong Kong Delights is at #01-36 Maxwell Food Centre, 1 Kadayanallur St, S069184. Open Mon, Wed, Sat – Sun 10am – 9pm. More info on Facebook & Instagram. Available for delivery via Grabfood and Take.app.

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Photos: Alvin Teo