Imagine an indoor market in Queensway swarming with tourists snagging cheap luggage and velour cushions flaunting King Charles’s face. Survive this neon-lit maze, and you’re rewarded with Malaysian food that slaps you around the face, then has you yelping for more. Welcome to Normah’s.
Normah’s is a home-style café with simple wooden tables and mismatched seats. An old fish tank sits in the corner, and the menu is laminated. It ain’t fancy, but what the restaurant lacks in décor, it makes up for with bold food and effervescent service.
It remains intimate and unaffected, like you've been let in on a secret
At the helm of the kitchen is Normah Abd Hamid. She’s an ex-investment banker who, now in her sixties, feels more authentic in the kitchen than on any trading floor. Her charismatic nephew, Rezi, runs front of house – with the restaurant perpetually heaving, it’s a frenetic feat, yet diners are never rushed off their tables.
Roti canai is made to order and arrives hot and flaky, lavished with ghee, and scrunched into a buttery mess. It verged on greasy but was redeemed when plunged into creamy, slow-cooked lentil dhal. A whole seabass came deep-fried, with crisp fish skin and moist, tender flesh in a pool of fiery, lava-coloured chilli sauce. It’s brave and impressive, especially considering it comes from a tiny kitchen and a one-woman show.
I’ve eaten many versions of curry laksa, and here the soup was comfortingly thick, with a robust flavour achieved thanks to a seafood broth that's laboured for hours on the hob, cut through with piquant and fruity tamarind, and bathing king prawns. There’s also enough tofu and fat noodles crammed in the bowl that you may be forced to share if your dining partner asks.
Word has it that the beef rendang at Normah’s is pretty special. It is. Patiently simmered for four hours, unctuous meat is drenched in a rich sauce spiked with fresh curry leaves. Coconut milk hints at sweetness, balanced by the creeping background heat of chilli. The use of spice thrills and silences simultaneously, and is then shamelessly lodged into my food-porn memory bank.
The menu doesn't extend to dessert, but tea tarik did its best as an after-dinner treat, sweet, dreamy, and indulgent with condensed milk.
Aside from the achingly good food, what's refreshing about Normah's is the lack of pretension. It remains intimate and unaffected, like you've been let in on a secret, or better still, invited round for dinner by Normah herself.
The vibe Small Malaysian café hidden down an indoor market alley. Modest and casual.
The food Simple, authentic Malay, cooked devastatingly well.
The drink Luscious bandung rose syrup with milk, or homemade lemonade with mint leaf. No booze.
Time Out tip Book now. You won't find a table for a month anyway. And if you can’t find a dining partner, eat solo. Normah's is more satisfying than most dates anyway.