Orchard Central, #07-10/11 | Somerset MRT, 2-min walk | Daily 11am–10pm


AMBIENCE

Stepping into Kumachan Onsen on the seventh floor of Orchard Central, the first thing that registers is the warmth — not from the hotpots, but from the decor. The space is dressed in earthy tones offset by deliberate bursts of whimsy: stuffed bears perched on shelves, bear motifs pressed into signage, and the low amber glow of pendant lighting that makes the whole room feel vaguely like the inside of a Hokkaido mountain lodge transplanted into the urban heart of Orchard Road. Seating 60 at capacity, the restaurant manages to feel intimate without feeling cramped. Individual hotpot stations mean each diner is cocooned in their own small world of bubbling broth and rising steam.

We visited at lunch, when the space was still finding its rhythm — quiet, unhurried, the kind of visit where your server can actually explain the menu without shouting over a crowd. Come dinner, the concept will likely bloom under the noise and energy of a full house. The bear theme, which in lesser hands might tip into cloying kitsch, is executed with just enough restraint to land as charming rather than childish. It is the sort of restaurant that invites photographs before the food even arrives.


THE CONCEPT: TEDDY BEAR ONSEN HOTPOT

The centrepiece of the Kumachan experience is theatrical by design. Before any cooking begins, a small frozen collagen bear is placed into your individual hotpot vessel, seated as though luxuriating in a hot spring, a tiny edible “towel” balanced on its head. As your server ladles hot water into the pot, the bear begins its slow dissolution — limbs softening first, then the torso, the head finally surrendering to the heat over the course of several minutes. What you are left with is a collagen-enriched broth, viscous and glossy, carrying a faint sweetness and considerable body.

The drama of the melt is real. It is the kind of small spectacle that makes an ordinary meal feel like an event, and it succeeds entirely on that level. Whether the collagen delivery mechanism produces a meaningfully superior broth is a separate question — one we will come to.


BROTH ANALYSIS

Soymilk Soup (white bear)

In colour, the soymilk broth is a pale, creamy off-white — the hue of diluted condensed milk, faintly luminescent under the restaurant’s warm lighting. As the bear dissolves, the liquid thickens perceptibly, developing a slightly unctuous, coating quality on the palate.

The flavour, however, is where this broth falls short of its promise. One expects a deep, roasted nuttiness — the kind of soy richness you find in a good tonyu nabe — but what arrives is considerably more muted. There is a whisper of citrus, clean and slightly tart, which lifts the finish, but the signature earthiness of soybean is largely absent. The broth reads as mild to the point of thinness in terms of flavour complexity, relying on the condiment station and the proteins themselves to carry most of the taste load.

As the soup reduces with continued boiling, the collagen concentration rises sharply. The texture transitions from silky to semi-gelatinous — not unpleasant, but notable. Topping up with hot water every ten to fifteen minutes is not merely a suggestion but a practical necessity if you want to maintain a functional, pourable broth through the latter half of your meal.

Gochujang Soup (red bear)

The gochujang broth is a deep terracotta in colour — warm brick red shot through with the orange undertone of fermented chilli paste and a slight shimmer of fat on the surface. Visually, it is the more arresting of the two.

On the palate, this is the stronger performer. Korean gochujang brings a complex, layered heat that builds gradually rather than hitting immediately, supported by the natural sweetness of the fermented paste and a background savoriness that reads almost meaty. The spice level is approachable rather than aggressive — more of a persistent warmth than a burn — making it accessible while still being genuinely characterful. Proteins cooked in this broth pick up its flavour readily, and the interplay between the sweet-spicy base and thinly sliced beef is one of the better combinations on the table.

The same collagen-congealing issue applies here. Vigilant water top-ups keep it in check.


PROTEIN DEEP DIVE

Double Beef Karubi ($21.80++)

The karubi — short rib — arrives pre-sliced to approximately two millimetres, draped in loose folds over a plate. The fat marbling is visible and distributed evenly through the lean, which indicates good-quality secondary beef rather than premium wagyu but well above commodity grade. In colour, the raw slices are a vivid cherry red against a background of ivory fat, the muscle fibres clearly delineated.

Cooked correctly — three to four passes through simmering broth, no more — the result is tender with a gentle chew, the fat having partially rendered to leave a silky, lip-coating mouthfeel. The gochujang broth penetrates the meat more assertively than the soymilk, flavouring it from the outside in, giving each bite a sweet-spicy top note over the natural savoriness of the beef. In the soymilk broth, the beef’s own flavour reads more clearly — cleaner, more straightforwardly bovine, relying on the condiment station for complexity.

Overcooking, which is the only real risk in a hotpot format, produces a noticeably tougher, more fibrous result. The margin for error is narrow with this thickness of cut.

Wagyu Beef Rump Set, 80g ($26.90++)

Served as a yakiniku set rather than hotpot, the wagyu rump is the highest-commitment item we ordered, and it justifies the price point. Rump — or shintama — is a more muscular cut than ribeye or striploin, which means the fat is less diffuse but the flavour is considerably more concentrated and minerally. At wagyu grade, that character intensifies further.

On the grill, the fat at the perimeter renders within seconds, the edges crisping and caramelising slightly while the interior remains a deep pink. The aroma is immediate and compelling — the Maillard reaction working at full force on well-marbled beef. Eaten immediately off the grill with a dip in the accompanying Asian sauce (sweet, slightly viscous, with a background of soy and mirin), the flavour is full and complete: rich, beefy, faintly sweet, with a finishing heat from the accompanying chilli oil. The kimchi provides an acidic, fermented counterpoint that cuts through the fat effectively.

The 80g portion is small. It is not a portion designed for satiation — it is a portion designed for appreciation, and on those terms it delivers.

Steamed Chicken Gyoza (add-on, $2)

Plump half-moon parcels, their skin softened to a satiny translucency by steaming. The filling is loosely packed minced chicken with a neutral, clean seasoning that benefits from dipping into the broth before eating. A minor addition, but a textural interlude that earns its place.


DISH ANALYSIS: THE INDIVIDUAL HOTPOT FORMAT

The individual hotpot format is one of the more interesting structural decisions Kumachan makes. Communal hotpot, the more common configuration, produces a shared broth that is a composite of everyone’s ingredients — unpredictable, constantly evolving, and socially intimate. Individual hotpot is more controlled: your broth is your own, its flavour development entirely a product of what you put into it.

The trade-off is volume. A small individual pot boils down rapidly and concentrates quickly, which is precisely why the collagen-congealing issue becomes more acute here than it would in a larger vessel. The design — bear, individual vessel, personal broth — is coherent and internally logical, but it does require more active management from the diner.


CONDIMENT STATION

The condiment station is, without exaggeration, the functional backbone of the meal. Options include ponzu (bright, citric, clean), sesame soy sauce (nutty, rounded, slightly sweet), mustard mayonnaise (rich and sharp), garlic oil (assertively pungent), chilli oil (clean heat, good aromatic depth), and black pepper. Spring onions are available in bulk.

The optimal approach is to build two or three distinct dipping profiles. A combination of ponzu with spring onion and a few drops of chilli oil provides brightness and lift. Sesame soy with garlic oil and black pepper builds depth and warmth. The mustard mayonnaise works best as a secondary element rather than a base.


BEEF CURRY RICE UPGRADE ($2 add-on)

The Japanese curry is mild, slightly sweet, and competent — a brown, glossy sauce of medium viscosity with a faint background spice. It is not a curry that demands attention, but it provides a reliable and comforting starch component for extending the meal. The thin beef slices layered on top absorb the curry flavour readily. Worth the two-dollar upgrade purely on value grounds.


RECIPE RECONSTRUCTION: COLLAGEN BEAR HOTPOT BROTH

What follows is a home reconstruction of the Kumachan soymilk broth, incorporating the collagen enrichment and arriving at a more flavourful version than what was served.

Base Broth — Soymilk Collagen Nabe (serves 2)

Ingredients:

  • 500ml unsweetened soy milk (full-fat, not reduced)
  • 300ml dashi stock (kombu and katsuobushi preferred; instant is acceptable)
  • 2 tablespoons white miso paste
  • 1 tablespoon sake
  • 1 teaspoon mirin
  • 1 teaspoon soy sauce
  • 10g powdered collagen peptides (or 20g unflavoured gelatine powder for texture)
  • 1 small knob of ginger, grated (approximately 5g)
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • Sesame oil, a few drops to finish

Method: Warm the dashi stock over medium heat. Dissolve the miso paste into the warm dashi, whisking to avoid lumps. Add sake and mirin and bring to a gentle simmer. Pour in the soy milk and reduce heat to low — do not allow to boil aggressively or the soy milk will split and separate. Add grated ginger, garlic, soy sauce, and the collagen or gelatine, stirring continuously until fully dissolved. The broth should be smooth, faintly ivory in colour, and lightly viscous. Finish with a few drops of sesame oil. Maintain at a bare simmer throughout the meal.

Note on texture: At the recommended concentrations, the broth will thicken noticeably as it reduces. Adding the collagen in a lower initial quantity — approximately half — and supplementing as the broth reduces gives you more control over final mouthfeel.

Gochujang Broth (serves 2)

Ingredients:

  • 600ml anchovy or chicken stock (good body, moderate salinity)
  • 2.5 tablespoons gochujang paste
  • 1 tablespoon doenjang (Korean fermented soybean paste) — optional but adds depth
  • 1 tablespoon soy sauce
  • 1 teaspoon sesame oil
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon gochugaru (Korean chilli flakes) for colour and texture
  • 10g collagen powder

Method: Bring stock to a simmer. Add gochujang and doenjang and whisk until fully incorporated — the broth will take on a deep rust-red colour. Add garlic, soy sauce, sugar, gochugaru, and collagen, stirring to dissolve. Taste and adjust — more gochujang for heat, sugar for sweetness, soy for salt. The finished broth should be a confident terracotta red with a glossy surface from the sesame oil. Maintain at a low simmer.


COOKING INSTRUCTIONS: BEEF KARUBI IN HOTPOT

The skill is in the timing and in not rushing. Thinly sliced beef at two millimetres needs no more than two to three minutes in simmering — not boiling — broth. Lower the slices individually rather than in a bundle; they should separate in the liquid rather than steam-cook against each other in a mass.

Watch for the colour change: raw beef is a vivid red. As the exterior proteins denature, the colour migrates inward from the edges. Pull the slice when a thin core of pink remains — residual heat will finish the job. This produces the most tender result. A fully grey slice has been overcooked by approximately thirty seconds and will be perceptibly chewier on the bite.

For the yakiniku preparation: the grill surface should be hot before the beef meets it. A properly preheated grill produces immediate sizzle and a Maillard crust within sixty to ninety seconds per side. Do not move the slice once placed — let it release naturally. A premature lift tears the crust and loses the caramelisation. Flip once. Rest for fifteen seconds before eating.


TEXTURES & HUES: A SENSORY MAP

The meal, taken as a whole, is an exercise in soft and yielding textures interrupted by occasional contrasts. The collagen broth coats every ingredient in a light, satiny film. The silken tofu breaks under the lightest pressure into cool, custard-soft curds. Enoki mushrooms are slippery and tender, offering almost no resistance. Sliced beef, correctly cooked, yields with a faint elasticity before releasing cleanly. Lettuce wilted briefly in broth takes on a silky limpness.

In hue, the table is autumnal and warm. The soymilk broth is the colour of weak milky tea, the gochujang a burnt sienna that deepens to mahogany at the edges of the pot where it concentrates. Raw beef is the red of pomegranate arils. Cooked beef moves through rose to pale brown. The tofu is pure white against the amber liquid. Spring onions are the only vivid green, bright and sharp against the warmth of everything else. The gyoza skin is a translucent grey-white, almost porcelain in texture. The wagyu on the grill blackens fractionally at the margins where the fat hits the heat, a contrast of char against deep pink.

The steam is not incidental. It is constant, visible, and aromatic, rising from every vessel on the table. It is part of the experience — the suggestion of heat and comfort and transformation happening in real time, just below the surface of the broth.


FINAL VERDICT

Kumachan Onsen is a restaurant that succeeds as an experience before it succeeds as a meal. The theatrical dissolving bear, the individual hotpot format, the warm bear-themed interior — these are the things a diner will remember and relay. The food, taken on its own terms, is capable and honest: good-quality proteins, functional broths, a condiment station that empowers you to build real complexity into every bite.

The soymilk broth needs work at the flavour development level. The collagen concentration, while thematically integral, requires active management from the diner. But the gochujang broth, the wagyu yakiniku, and the beef karubi are all worth the visit.

At this price point, in this location, with this level of theatre, Kumachan Onsen offers something genuinely distinct in Singapore’s hotpot landscape.

Rating: 7/10 Recommended: Double Beef Karubi Set ($21.80++), Wagyu Beef Rump Set ($26.90++), Gochujang broth.