Tiong Bahru Pau

This place is never without a line. But it is worth lining up for because you know your dim sum is going to be satisfyingly delicious.
Like Joe N. said in his review, this place is legendary. You will also know that when you hear the uncle sitting at a nearby table speaks into his phone, «wa ti Tiong Bahru» (I am at Tiong Bahru), and he clearly is in Jurong East.
Unlike the sit in dim sum place, you don’t really get to see what they have. But trust me, they have almost anything you can think of all the way to chee cheong fan and porridge. If this is your first time, order whatever anyone else is ordering and you will be fine.
Their carrot cake is very well known. For take away, I like their puff pastries like char siew song. Not a pastry person, try their loh mai kai (glutinous rice) or cheong fan. In a big group, just get in line and order anything you can think of! Yup, they are good.

There are 2 family run pau chains in Singapore that have been with me and endured since the Early Times. Quite a few of my reviews have alluded to that special part of my childhood day, supper. A time when uncles, aunts and family returning from work would gather round the table and start disgorging from handbags and briefcases or net bags a wondrous array of suppertime classics in small neat parcels wrapped in an equally varied array of wrappers, newspaper, wax paper, banana and palm leaf.
Tanglin Teck Kee and Tiong Bahru Pau. My old friends.
The background is necessary you see, dear reader, to provide some perspective to my review, which might seem to be too glowing an endorsement for what may objectively appear to you to be pedestrian, quotidian, or commonplace.
The outlet of Tiong Bahru Pau at Jurong East has been around for so long that nobody here in Jurong actually thinks that there is a «mothership» somewhere in Singapore or even Tiong Bahru. It is a prominent hillock in the culinary landscape of Jurong East and Bukit Batok. The snaking line in front of Tiong Bahru Pau on Sunday should tell you all you need to know; busy run-​down Singaporeans don’t join a snaking queue lightly. It’s like this every Sunday and has been so for nigh on 20 years. So no, it’s not some passing fad, it’s a brunch tradition.
Pardon me while I digress a little here. The culinary scene has exploded somewhat in the last 5 years and it would not be difficult for a casual observer to conclude that the Singapore culinary scene is all about Michelin-​starred rockstar chefs and the Singaporean up-​and-​comers who want to be just like them. One could come away with the mistaken impression that the average Singaporean gets off on reductions, demi-​glacé and truffle oil. Nothing could be further from the truth. All this culinary whizz-​bang is a Johnny-​come-​lately to the Singaporean culinary scene, the fat kid stumbling across the finish line in a potato sack race long over. The humble hawker, the family run single specialty food shop is king and also more importantly the foundation upon which Singapore’s awesome reputation as a foodie haven rests. Without this foundation, the whole fine dining house of cards comes tumbling down. All credible foodie cultures are built on the solid foundation of a culinary tradition. Therefore, it is my fervent hope, dear reader, that as young culinary graduates of institutions such as the CIA, Singapore, make their way, they see the light and decide to be the nuclei of Singaporean cuisine’s next evolution. There is no future in aping the West or looking ever outward when there is a glorious and gradually fading tradition right here in our heartland. There is inspiration aplenty and a clarion call to arms coming from corner coffee shops, shop houses and hawker centers in our legacy estates. Master craftsmen who are aging and who have no one to pass their skill, cumulative experience and tradition on to, who when they retire, will let slide into obscurity yet another glorious culinary tradition. In a perfect world, a cohort of school-​trained, business savvy Singaporean cooks decide to stauge with the foundational masters of Singaporean hawker cuisine and pour themselves into it for love, with the passion and fire in the belly to not only keep Singapore’s culinary traditions alive but bringing their skill and training to bear, help take this glorious culinary tradition even further. That, dear reader, let us hope is at least possible in our lifetime.
So while the fare at Tiong Bahru may seem pedestrian, it is what the average Singaporean finds appealing. It is what we are willing to stand in line for. It is part of who and what we are as a people, as a foodie culture. Better and finer examples of char siew pau (steamed roast pork buns), siew mai (steamed meat dumplings) and no mai gai (sticky rice chicken) are certainly available, at Wah Ting or Wah Lock, but it is Tiong Bahru Pau’s offerings that are familiar and comforting. After a weeklong struggle through the daily grind of fighting your way through crowds to get though the public transport system, through work and school, it is comforting to enjoy something good, something familiar, cheek by jowl with folk whom you share the same struggles and who understand how special this time and this simple fare is.
I personally enjoy the following: fried ngoh hiong, fried carrot cake (the crunchy shrimpy crust is to die for), siew mai, char siew pau, no mai kai. The big chicken pau is a time-​honored favorite. If you’re coming all the way to Jurong to get some poultry, you should stay and see how the other half eats, and lives and stays happy.