Heritage threatened by rising costs and ageing cooks
Singaporeans love hawker food, but business is tough
SINGAPORE // Known for being clean and affordable, and offering an endless choice of gastronomic delights, hawker fare is an integral part of Singapore’s food and cultural heritage.
Rich and poor, young and old, Singaporeans and tourists alike flock to more than 100 hawker centres throughout the island state, where about 6,000 stalls serve up hundreds of thousands of meals every day – sometimes 24 hours a day.
The government plans to build 20 more hawker centres in the next decade, but challenges such as rising costs and succession problems threaten the sustainability of the much-loved hawker food culture.
Hawker centres are open- air buildings that house rows of food stalls, while providing diners with shelter from the elements. Under one roof, customers can find everything from local favourites such as Hainanese chicken rice or laksa (curry noodles) to Hong Kong dim sum or Italian pasta. Meals cost as little as three Singapore dollars (Dh8), if you are willing to brave the heat and sometimes eat with strangers at the same table.
Twenty years before the Michelin Guide noticed hawker fare, one man was already an enthusiastic advocate.
KF Seetoh, the founder of Makansutra, a culinary consultancy that produces its own food guide and organises world street food events, has been rating Singapore hawkers since 1998.
“Food, from my view, is a big part of Singapore’s heritage as it spells out our colourful, desperate and innovative migrant nation culture. It says who we are,” said the 55-year-old food guru.
“Celebrating the food culture is not just about identity, it’s also about lifestyle, tourism and the food industry, which spell opportunities for many people.”
It was because of these opportunities that the hawker trade thrived in the 1950s and 1960s.
Hawkers in those days, mostly unemployed Chinese migrants, gathered at the Singapore River to ply their trade – cooked food, fresh produce, even shoe-repair services.
As street peddlers proliferated, however, they became a public nuisance, their mobile pushcarts often spilling into the streets and obstructing traffic.
Their questionable hygiene practices – with no clean water supply or waste disposal system – were also linked to outbreaks of cholera and typhoid, and seen as a public health threat.
But there was little success in moving hawkers off the streets until 1971 when Singapore’s post-independence government began building hawker centres with piped water, sewers and waste disposal facilities. By 1986, Singapore had resettled all its street food traders.
“Hawker centres have since become an integral part of the everyday lives of Singaporeans and one of the key distinguishing features of Singapore’s food heritage,” said Alvin Tan, assistant chief executive of policy and community at the National Heritage Board. Surveys show nearly 75 per cent of Singaporeans eat at hawker centres at least once a week.
British tourists John and Joan Heap explained why they love hawker fare: “There’s so much variety, a bit from there, a bit from here. It’s really good.
“In England you don’t have this environment.”
Despite its popularity, the future of Singapore’s street food is at risk. The average age of hawkers in Singapore is 59 and, as ageing hawkers retire, young people seem reluctant to enter the trade, deterred by long hours, backbreaking work and rising rents and ingredient costs.
Not many are like third- generation hawker Li Ruifang, 33, chef and owner of 545 Whampoa Prawn Noodle (Tekka branch), who is determined to carry on her grandfather’s legacy.
Ruifang, an economics and finance graduate, quit her job as a loan settlements officer in a finance company three years ago to become a hawker. She now spends 12 to 14 hours a day in a small kitchen, starting work as early as 3am.
When roadside peddlers were moved off streets, Ruifang’s grandparents – who had sold noodles on the street since the 1940s – accepted the government’s invitation to take up a stall in Whampoa food centre in 1973.
Since then, her parents and aunts have taken turns to run the business at the original stall.
“I’ve always been interested in food and in the trade, and the fact that none of my siblings or cousins are interested in doing it makes me want to continue this even more,” she said.
The government has set aside about S$90 million (Dh238.7m) to help existing stall holders through grants and reimbursement, and will launch initiatives to lower the barriers to entry for aspiring entrants.
Ruifang thinks one way the government can help would be to lower its expectations that hawkers need to sell cheap food. Prices for some dishes are set by authorities in some new hawker centres.
“The open market already forces hawkers to price their food competitively. There’s no need to interfere to appease the public by putting the stress on hawkers.”
But perhaps the biggest challenge of attracting young hawkers is that most Singaporeans still can’t shake off stereotypes about them.
“It’s a little late in changing the mindset of how people see a hawker as a career,” Ruifang said in resignation. “Most still see it as a job for people who aren’t able to find alternatives.
“Even those who respect and understand the work that we do often won’t ever want to do it themselves.”