Before I start testifying my love for this divine noodle dish, let me first clarify I have no wish to start a food fight or whatever. Singapore, Penang or KL - I love them all!

For you see, depending on which part of the peninsula you’re at, Hokkien mee can mean a very different dish to different people.

While the Penang and Singapore versions use egg noodles or rice vermicelli, the KL Hokkien mee I love uses thick, fat yellow noodles known — no surprise here — as Hokkien noodles.

The northern and southern varieties are untouched by even a single lick of dark soy sauce; the KL version is properly drowning in the stuff.

Needless to say, this KL Hokkien mee was full of smoky goodness, the glossy sauce-coated noodles are chewy and downright delicious to the last slurp! A generous topping of heart-stopping crunchy lard bits are mixed into this orgy of decadence, making it the perfect dish of sheer indulgence!

🗒 Dynasty KL Fried Hokkien Mee, Small ($6.00)

Nothing like what I had expected. Forget about the smokiness flavour or charred, crispy rice. Think of it as the usual porridge cooked with Japanese pearl grains, cuttlefish, diced yam in a thick consistency topped with fried shallots, spring onion and fried pork lard.

🗒 Signature Tasty Fried Porridge, Small ($7.00)

Each mouthful of gently moist bee hoon and noodles is infused with an umami prawn stock. The copious bits of wok hei-kissed fluffy fried egg, sotong and springy prawns add even more oomph to the dish.

Meh...not impressed with the fish and the “hand-rolled” linguine.

While frozen may be the new fresh, I maintain fresh is always better when it comes to seafood. What I am taking away from dining at this restaurant is that restaurants classification should include the following categories: "fresh seafood" and "frozen seafood".

This sexy, curvaceous fruit in a fragrant red wine bath just had the right balance of sweetness and acidity for a light dessert.

A triumph of fork-tender goodness served on top of a truffle puree that was silky and creamy.

As delectable to the palate as it was pleasing to the eye. The beautifully pan seared exterior gave way to tender moist flesh that remained succulent inside. The decadent plumpy Hokkaido Scallops were further enhanced by the scented truffle caviar that's out of this world.

At first glance, the Chinatown Complex Market & Food Centre doesn’t seem like the place to find mind-blowing eating experiences. Vendor stalls are basic, with the kind of efficient service you’d expect of hawker dining.

However, stalls like Give Me More with its elevated beef noodle soup embodies much of the spirit of hawker eating: unassuming cooking that is affordable and deliciously authentic.

The soft chunks of braised shank constitute an uppercut of pure bovine intensity. The tendons are slippery, fatty deliciousness. The broth is slow-simmered, flavoured with aromatics like star anise and peppercorns. And the noodles are spot on, more pleasantly toothsome than al dente.

🗒 Braised Beef Tendon & Shank Noodle ($7.50)

Some foods get the hype for various factors other than flavour, and other foods are just that damn good. This is totally worth the hype. Of course, YMMV.

🗒 Chili Ban Mee with Scallops ($8)

It comes in small, medium, and large bowls. Next time I have to remember to get the large size and have them add extra noodles and cockles. Yeah, it is that good!

🗒 Large Bowl ($6)

Sweet and savory. Slippery and slick. Juicy and tender. Hot and sour. So. Freaking. Good.

These are all words that came to mind as I gobbled down the plate of ’Hong You Chao Shao’ (红油抄手), the Sichuan-style wontons that came coated in an intensely aromatic sauce made with vinegar, and roasted chili oil. It's the sauce that brings on the contrasts with its almost overly intense flavor, thanks to sweet sour vinegar, soy sauce, and plenty of chili oil with crunchy bits of fried dried chilies and spring onions.

🗒 Sichuan-Style Wontons in Hot and Sour Vinegar and Chili Oil Sauce ($4.50)

You know what they say: the hungrier you are, the better the food tastes.

Some restaurants have strategy, while others chalk up the wait as part of the experience. But I really don't consider queuing when hungry to be a barrel of laughs.

🗒 Hitsumabushi ($26.80)