725 Havelock Road, Singapore
Opened September 2025 · 38 Seats · Tues–Sun
A Comprehensive Culinary Analysis
I. The Review
Hup Lok arrived in September 2025 with the kind of quiet confidence that only restaurants backed by genuine culinary conviction tend to exhibit. Tucked along Havelock Road — a stretch of Singapore undergoing its own quiet gentrification — the thirty-eight-seat dining room signals neither spectacle nor timidity. Owner Hong Junchen, forty-one, built this restaurant around a focused, personal menu: one that resists the seasonal gimmickry of festive dining and instead anchors itself in the deep, unhurried flavours of Hokkien tradition.
The menu is compact and deliberate. There is no sprawl, no hedging. Dishes are constructed with a clear point of view, and while not every plate succeeds equally, the kitchen demonstrates a mastery of braised and stock-based cookery that places Hup Lok well above the median of Singapore’s hawker-adjacent dining scene.
Of the three dishes sampled on a recent visit, two are exceptional — the sort of food that stays in the palate’s memory long after the meal concludes. The third, a scallop preparation, is a misstep that reveals the occasional hazard of ambition outpacing restraint.
Overall Rating
FOOD AMBIENCE VALUE
8.5 / 10 7.5 / 10 9 / 10
II. Ambience & Setting
Thirty-eight seats is a number that speaks to intimacy rather than indifference. Hup Lok does not aspire to be a destination for tables of ten, nor does it court the convivial chaos of Singapore’s larger seafood halls. The dining room is modest and unfussy — the kind of space that directs all attention toward the food rather than the décor.
Havelock Road itself provides a measure of context. The neighbourhood sits at a threshold: close enough to Robertson Quay and the CBD to attract the city’s working professionals, yet retaining the unhurried rhythm of a residential quarter. Hup Lok occupies this tension neatly. It is a restaurant for people who know what they want and are prepared to give their full attention to getting it.
Service is competent and warm without being ceremonious. The proximity of tables means conversations carry, lending the space a convivial quality at peak service. The claypot dishes arrive at the table still active — still bubbling with residual heat — and this theatricality, modest as it is, provides the room its most visceral sensory moment. The scent of wok-hei dispersing into a small dining room is its own kind of atmosphere.
Lunch service runs from 11.30am to 2.30pm; dinner from 5.30 to 9.30pm. Monday closures are consistent with the rhythms of Singapore’s independent restaurant culture. The kitchen does not appear to be in a hurry, which — given the precision required for the pomfret soup and the claypot preparations — is entirely appropriate.
III. In-Depth Dish Analysis
Claypot Hokkien Mee ($18.80, serves two)
The Dish
This is the signature and, having encountered it, it is not difficult to understand why. The dish arrives at the table still bubbling in its vessel — the claypot radiating a gentle, persistent heat that continues to work on the noodles even as the diner contemplates the first move. It is a dish that rewards immediate engagement.
Textures
The textural architecture of this dish is its greatest achievement. The noodles — a combination of thick yellow mee and rice vermicelli, as is traditional — are neither sodden nor resistant. They have absorbed the braising liquid to the point of yielding compliance, each strand carrying the sauce without dissolving into it. Against this yielding base, four large prawns provide firm, snapping resistance. Their exteriors are lightly caramelised from the wok, the interiors still translucent at the centre — a precision that lesser kitchens routinely fail to achieve.
Pork belly, sliced to a thickness that preserves its distinct layering, contributes a second register of softness: gelatinous fat giving way under slight pressure, the lean muscle beneath offering moderate chew. Squid rings are correctly cooked — tender, not rubbery — and their mild brininess punctuates the richness of the broth. The lacy omelette, perhaps the most technically demanding element, is crisp at its laciest fringes and eggy-soft at its thicker folds, providing both crunch and cushion in alternating bites. Lardons, scattered with apparent generosity but strategically placed, deliver intermittent bursts of rendered fat and salt that function as flavour punctuation.
Hues & Colour Palette
Visually, the dish presents in deep amber and burnished gold — the hues of sustained Maillard reaction and dark soy. The noodles are stained to a warm mahogany, punctuated by the cream-white of the squid rings, the coral-orange of the prawn shells, and the ivory-gold lacework of the omelette. Lardons read as dark mahogany islands across the surface. The overall chromatic impression is one of opulence without ostentation — the palette of a dish that has been given time and heat and respect.
Flavour Architecture
The defining flavour note is wok-hei: that beguiling, elusive smokiness produced when ingredients meet an intensely heated wok at the precise moment of contact. In Hup Lok’s Hokkien Mee, this quality is present and sustained — not a whisper of char but a genuine, integrated smoke that infuses every component. Beneath it, the sauce occupies the classic Hokkien register: savoury depth from dark soy and prawn stock, sweetness held in careful check, umami contributed by the various proteins.
The accompanying sambal is remarkable in its own right. Made with ikan bilis (dried anchovies), it achieves a balance between heat, sweetness, and fermented depth that is difficult to calibrate correctly. It is not merely a condiment here — it is a structural component. Squeezed calamansi lime introduces citric acidity that cuts through the dish’s richness with surgical precision, though a single wedge is insufficient. The kitchen should reconsider its portioning of both the sambal and the citrus.
Grandpa’s Pomfret Soup ($13.80)
The Dish
Named after Mr Hong’s seventy-six-year-old father, this soup carries the weight of family memory in its construction. The stock is a study in layered extraction: dried sole, chicken, and fish bones form the protein base, each contributing distinct mineral and collagen notes. Huadiao wine — a Shaoxing-style aged rice wine — is introduced during cooking, imparting a mellow, slightly floral depth that lifts the stock out of the merely savoury and into something approaching elegant.
Textures
Pomfret is among the most technically unforgiving of fish: its flesh, when perfectly cooked, is silky and yielding, flaking in broad translucent sheets at the slightest encouragement. Overcooked by even thirty seconds, it becomes dry and disaggregated. The fish here arrives whole — an entire pomfret — and the kitchen has calibrated the cooking precisely to account for the residual heat of the hot soup continuing the cooking process at table. The instruction to attack at once is not mere enthusiasm: it is technically correct advice. The flesh, encountered promptly, is silk over mineral — gelatinous along the collar and tail, firmer at the loin, a textural range that rewards systematic exploration.
The vegetables — salted plums, tomatoes, and salted vegetables — provide contrasting textures: the plums give a yielding, slightly fibrous softness; the tomatoes have collapsed partially into the broth, their skins loosened and flesh jammy; the salted vegetables retain a satisfying, preserved crunch that punctuates each spoonful.
Hues & Colour Palette
The soup presents in a pale gold, almost luminous — the colour of a well-made consommé taken to a slightly fuller body. The pomfret’s silver-white skin is flushed with heat, its edges showing the faintest caramel blush where it has rested against the vessel. Tomatoes bleed their crimson into the broth in diffuse plumes; salted plums contribute a muddy amber note; preserved vegetables appear as jade-green shards suspended in the golden medium. The visual effect is of natural generosity — nothing arranged, everything honest.
Flavour Architecture
The flavour of the stock operates on a principle of accumulation. Dried sole provides an intense, concentrated ocean note; chicken contributes body and sweetness; fish bones add mineral depth and collagen, producing that lip-coating quality that distinguishes a genuinely long-cooked stock from its shortcuts. Huadiao wine threads through all of this with a mellow, slightly oxidative warmth. Salted plums deliver tartness and a subtle sweetness, while salted vegetables introduce salinity that renders additional seasoning unnecessary. Tomatoes provide a gentle acidity that binds everything together.
It is a soup that functions as a corrective: after the rich, smoky intensity of the Hokkien Mee, its clarity and mineral delicacy function as both counterpoint and palate reset. The two dishes, ordered together, constitute a coherent and satisfying meal — their differences complementary rather than discordant.
Large Hokkaido Gyoren Scallop ($7.90 each)
The scallop itself is impeccable: Gyoren-grade Hokkaido scallops are among the finest available in this market, distinguished by their size, sweetness, and high moisture content. The shellfish here does not disappoint on its intrinsic merits. The difficulty is entirely one of culinary conception. The sauce — peppery, punctuated by curry leaves — belongs to a different culinary vocabulary than the one Hup Lok has been speaking throughout the meal. It neither complements the scallop’s oceanic sweetness nor advances any identifiable thesis about flavour combination. It is a sauce in search of a dish, applied to a magnificent ingredient that deserves better.
The textural paradox here is that the scallop itself is correctly seared — a golden crust over a barely-set, translucent interior — but the sauce overwhelms any appreciation of that precision. The palate registers only the aggressive pepper and the assertive aromatic of the curry leaves. One orders this dish once. One does not repeat the experiment.
IV. Recipe Reconstruction
The following recipes are interpretive reconstructions based on taste analysis and an understanding of canonical Hokkien and Teochew culinary technique. They are not claimed to be Hup Lok’s proprietary formulations.
Claypot Hokkien Mee — Reconstructed
Ingredients (serves 2)
Noodles & Proteins
200 g thick yellow wheat noodles (hokkien mee)
100 g rice vermicelli (bee hoon), soaked until pliable
4 large prawns (shell-on, deveined)
150 g pork belly, sliced 8mm thick
120 g squid, cleaned and cut into rings
50 g lardons (diced pork fatback), rendered separately until golden
Omelette
2 eggs, beaten with a pinch of salt
1 tsp fish sauce
Braising Liquid
400 ml prawn stock (made by simmering prawn heads and shells for 30 min)
2 tbsp dark soy sauce
1 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tsp oyster sauce
½ tsp white pepper
½ tsp sugar
4 cloves garlic, minced
Sambal (ikan bilis)
30 g dried anchovies (ikan bilis), fried until crisp
6 dried red chillies, soaked and drained
4 fresh red chillies
5 shallots, peeled
3 cloves garlic
1 tsp belacan (shrimp paste), toasted
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp palm sugar
Salt to taste
2 calamansi limes per serving (do not compromise on quantity)
Method
- Render the lardons
Place diced pork fatback in a cold wok. Heat gradually over medium flame until the fat renders and the pieces are golden and crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon. Reserve the rendered lard in the wok — this is your cooking fat. - Make the sambal
Blend the soaked dried chillies, fresh chillies, shallots, garlic, and belacan into a coarse paste. Heat oil in a small pan over medium heat. Fry the paste, stirring constantly, until it darkens to a deep brick-red and the oil separates — approximately 12–15 minutes. Add palm sugar and fried ikan bilis. Season with salt. The sambal should be aromatic, slightly sweet, and deeply savoury. Set aside. - Prepare the omelette
Heat a small amount of the reserved lard in a wok or small pan over very high heat. Pour in the beaten egg mixture. Allow it to spread and blister — do not stir. The goal is a lacy, crisped perimeter with a soft centre. Remove in shards. Set aside. - Sear the proteins
Over the highest possible flame, heat the wok until smoking. Add prawns; sear 90 seconds per side until the shells are charred in patches. Remove. Add pork belly slices; sear until golden at the edges. Remove. Flash-cook squid rings for 45 seconds — no more. Remove. - Fry the garlic
In the same wok, add the minced garlic to the residual fat. Fry for 30 seconds until fragrant and beginning to colour. - Add noodles and liquid
Add the yellow noodles and vermicelli to the wok. Pour over the prawn stock, dark soy, light soy, oyster sauce, white pepper, and sugar. Toss vigorously. The noodles should absorb the liquid over 3–4 minutes on high heat. The key is maintaining heat: the wok-hei character depends on sustained, intense heat and minimal disruption. - Assemble in the claypot
Transfer the noodles to a pre-heated claypot. Arrange the prawns, pork belly, and squid on top. Scatter the omelette shards and lardons. Cover and allow residual heat to complete for 1–2 minutes. - Serve
Bring to the table still bubbling. Serve with sambal and at least two wedges of calamansi per person. Squeeze lime immediately before eating.
Grandpa’s Pomfret Soup — Reconstructed
Ingredients (serves 2–3)
Stock Base
1 whole pomfret (approximately 500–600 g), cleaned and gutted
1 dried sole (about 80 g), rinsed
300 g chicken bones (neck and back preferred), blanched
200 g fish bones and heads from a mild white fish
2 litres cold water
3 tbsp huadiao (Shaoxing-style aged rice wine)
4 salted plums (suan mei)
2 medium tomatoes, quartered
80 g salted vegetables (kiam chye), rinsed thoroughly to remove excess salt
3 slices fresh ginger
1 tsp white pepper
Method
- Build the stock
Place dried sole, blanched chicken bones, and fish bones into a large pot with cold water. Bring to a vigorous boil, then reduce to a strong simmer. Cook uncovered for 45 minutes, skimming regularly. The stock should reduce by roughly a quarter and develop a pale golden colour with a clean, mineral aroma. - Add aromatics
Add the ginger slices, salted plums, tomatoes, and rinsed salted vegetables. Continue to simmer for a further 20 minutes. The tomatoes will begin to collapse and bleed into the stock, brightening its colour and contributing acidity. - Add huadiao wine
Add the huadiao wine. Simmer for 5 minutes. Do not allow to boil vigorously at this stage, as the wine’s floral aromatics are volatile and will dissipate under aggressive heat. - Season and taste
Taste the stock. It should be savoury, slightly sour from the plums and tomatoes, with a background sweetness from the chicken bones. Adjust with salt if necessary, but be restrained — the salted vegetables continue to contribute over time. Add white pepper. - Cook the pomfret
Add the whole, cleaned pomfret to the simmering stock. Cook for 6–8 minutes depending on the fish’s size. The fish is done when the flesh just begins to pull away from the backbone at the thickest point. Do not overcook. Remove the pot from heat while the flesh still appears very slightly translucent at the centre — residual heat will complete the process. - Serve immediately
Ladle into a large bowl. Bring to the table without delay. Instruct diners to eat the fish first, before the residual heat of the soup overcooks it. The surrounding vegetables and broth may wait; the pomfret cannot.
V. Verdict
Hup Lok is that rare thing: a restaurant with a genuine point of view. In a market saturated with conceptual hedging and festive-menu capitulation, it holds its position with the quiet assurance of a kitchen that knows exactly what it is doing with fire, time, and stock. The Claypot Hokkien Mee is among the best renditions of that dish currently available in Singapore — not because it innovates, but because it executes with an integrity that has become uncommon.
The pomfret soup is the kind of dish one describes to others afterwards. Not to impress, but because the memory of it demands articulation. It is deeply, unpretentiously good — the product of knowledge, patience, and a stock that takes longer to make than most contemporary restaurants are willing to commit to.
The scallop is best forgotten. Order it on a second visit out of curiosity, then let it remain a minor footnote in an otherwise compelling body of work. On a first visit, stick to the Hokkien Mee and the pomfret. Bring someone who will not talk too much. Pay attention.
PRACTICAL INFO
Address 725 Havelock Road, Singapore
MRT Havelock (Thomson-East Coast Line)
Hours 11.30am–2.30pm, 5.30–9.30pm (Tues–Sun); closed Mondays
Reservations huplok.sg
Must-order Claypot Hokkien Mee ($18.80), Grandpa’s Pomfret Soup ($13.80)
Skip Large Hokkaido Gyoren Scallop ($7.90)