JB food guide: 50-year legacy laksa yong tau foo and addictive fried banana treats in Stulang Laut

Reuniting with Mediacorp Oli 968 producer-presenter – and JB local – RJ Vimala to continue our food trail through Stulang Laut, I returned the favour with a recommendation from a passionate radio listener – Foon Yew Laksa. Located just a 10-to-15-minute drive from the Causeway, this JB stalwart has deep roots in the community, having spent decades operating out of the nearby Foon Yew High School canteen.

“My friends are from that school so I’ve actually eaten there before.” Vimala reminisced. Though for the both of us, it was our first time trying the stall’s signature laksa yong tau foo.

Picking up the mantle from his grand-aunt and aunt, 38-year-old Ng Jing Ng is the third-generation owner of Foon Yew Laksa, a family-run institution that has spanned 50 years. 

“We moved out of the school around the year 2000, and this is actually our fourth location. We’ve been in this spot for about 12 years now,” he said. “We have a large customer base because we are a no-pork-no-lard establishment.”

One of several individual gerai (stalls) lining Stulang Walk, Foon Yew Laksa serves a jaw-dropping variety of yong tau foo, meticulously arranged in colourful, attractive stacks. Ordering is a simple three-step process. First, select your ingredients. Next, pick a preparation style – gan lao (dry-tossed), clear soup, or laksa. 

Noodles are optional but include a wide range, from bee hoon and kway teow to yellow mee and thin egg noodles. For a finishing touch, choose from add-ons like minced chicken, bean sprouts and fresh cockles.

With so many decisions to make, Vimala and I needed a little guidance from Mr Ng. He rattled off a list of must-try signatures, including handmade ngoh hiang and fishballs. “For our gan lao noodles, we use dark soya sauce, shallot oil and, if you want it spicy, toss in sambal chilli,” he added.

That sounded too good to resist. We ordered a portion of dry egg noodles to share, alongside two individual bowls of laksa yong tau foo soup, then settled in the sheltered dining area. The space was clean, airy and comfortable – no wonder, as the whole row of food kiosks underwent a full renovation less than a year ago.

Our food arrived quickly. The toothsome bite of the springy noodles was outstanding. Each al dente strand luxuriously slicked with savoury-sweet sauce; shallot oil and fresh spring onion providing fragrant depth. The bowl also came with ngoh hiang on the side, served separately from the laksa soup to retain its crackle. The deep-fried five-spice rolls of bean curd skin packed with minced chicken, carrot and spring onion, were crispy on the outside and succulent within.

But we still had two huge soup bowls of yong tau foo to tackle. Tying our entire meal together was the potent, homemade sambal chilli available in self-serve jugs on each table.

“We also make it in-house with belacan, dried shrimp, garlic and shallots,” Mr Ng shared. True to his word, it gave the noodles the spicy lift I craved and its fermented funk amplified the dried shrimp in laksa.

My chosen topping of raw cockles was the perfect seafood pairing, poaching lightly in the steaming soup. “It's really light and at the same time, so flavourful,” came Vimala’s verdict. “Infused with prawn paste, the santan (coconut milk) is really good.”

Indeed, it gave the broth just enough body and flavour, layering aromatically over chicken stock and their proprietary rempah (spice paste). Daun kesom (laksa leaf) was absent as a garnish, but the laksa was nonetheless delicious and satisfying.

It may be the assumption with yong tau foo, that there is little to distinguish one fish paste-stuffed product from the next, but I found each piece we picked distinct in both taste and texture.

The "black" and “white” fishballs came highly recommended for good reason – each sphere was well-seasoned and beautifully shaped by hand. The latter were bouncy and gently boiled; the former, in contrast, were deep-fried into crinkly, deeply bronzed nuggets. These "black" fishballs were a revelation – chewy yet crisp, soaking up the laksa like tasty, fish-flavoured sponges.

Another highlight was the homemade tofu. Wrapped in fish paste and fried, the seared outer skin played delicately with the silky centre. Even the eggplant received special treatment – large slices were overflowingly stuffed with fish paste and sizzled to perfection, the charred edges a delectable balance for the tender pulp and supple snap of the fish.

The sprawling spread also featured leafy greens, mushrooms, fishcakes and all manner of stuffed goodies – ranging from varieties of tofu to traditional bitter gourd, lady’s fingers and chillies. For crunch, there were fried bean curd skins pressed into ruffled sheets or rolled into puffy scrolls and Vimala’s favourite: shatteringly crisp fried wantons.

A first for both of us was the century quail egg. The preserved delicacy offered that familiar, earthy flavour but in a milder bite-sized pop. For the less adventurous, plain eggs – hard-boiled or fried – were also available. 

Most items were priced between RM0.60 and RM2 and the total bill for our filling feast came to a reasonable RM24 (around S$7.72).

Just a few convenient steps away, dessert was waiting, its decadent call carried on the irresistible scent of hot oil and sugar. Siti Sweet Banana Enterprise is another popular kiosk along that stretch, famous for its array of deep-fried snacks and named for its best-selling pisang goreng (RM2 for three large pieces; RM1 for two small pieces).

What truly set the battered banana apart was the accompanying sambal kicap, a dark, glossy condiment made from kicap manis (sweet soya sauce) and fiery chilli padi.

"You don't get this in Singapore or Batam," Vimala quipped, slipping in a cheeky Phua Chu Kang reference. No doubt about it, this JB version was a gamechanger. Dipped in the spicy-sweet sauce, the crunchy sheath of creamy fruit was sublime.

Vimala’s personal pick was the Tahu Sumedang Goreng (RM1 for two pieces). The Indonesian-style tofu cubes were rolled in a spiced batter and fried for a golden shell and pillowy-light interior. I also couldn’t pass up the keropok lekor (RM1 for two pieces). The traditional fried fish sausages were wonderfully chewy and carried a bold seafood flavour that paired well with sweet chilli sauce.

Other battered treasures included tempeh and oyster mushrooms, yet there were more nibbles – kueh-kueh, epok-epok and samosas – to tempt us. But to end on a fittingly sweet note, we tried the pisang bebola (RM1 for two), a banana ball concoction of flour and overripe fruit. Fresh from the giant kuali or wok of bubbling oil, the rich, cake-like treats had a sticky, caramelised crust which made for a delightful final indulgence.

“In Malay, we also call these jemput-jemput," Vimala explained. “For example, jemput makan means ‘please eat’, so jemput-jemput is like an invitation. Welcome to Johor!” 

I couldn’t have summed up our day of eating any better. 

Foon Yew Laksa is located at Gerai No. 3 Stulang Walk, Jalan Stulang Laut, Taman Stulang, 80300 Johor Bahru, Johor Darul Ta'zim, Malaysia. It’s open from 9am to 4pm and is closed on Mondays.

Siti Sweet Banana Enterprise is located at Gerai No. 1 Stulang Walk, Jalan Stulang Laut, Taman Stulang, 80300 Johor Bahru, Johor Darul Ta'zim, Malaysia. It’s open from 9am to 6pm and is closed on Mondays.

Catch Makan Kakis with Denise Tan every Thursday from 11am on MediaCorp GOLD.