In part 3 of our series on passionate Singapore food champions, meet the PasirPanjangBoy duo who are preserving our food culture and serving up their own narratives around local fare.
Text: Amy Van | Art direction: Leyna Poh | Photography: Marcus Lim | Assisted by: McDouglas Lim | Photoshoot location: Bulthaup Singapore at 22 Duxton Hill
PasirPanjangBoy, the dynamic Singaporean lifestyle duo of Tinoq Russell Goh and Dylan Chan, are known for their vibrant storytelling across food, fashion, travel, and beauty. What began as a nostalgic nod to Tinoq’s kampung childhood in 1960s Pasir Panjang — where communal meals and culinary curiosity thrived — has grown into a full-fledged platform celebrating authenticity and the joy of discovery. Tinoq’s early cooking lessons from family, neighbours, and street hawkers continue to shape the duo’s generous, flavour-driven approach to food. Dylan, whose Hakka and Cantonese roots trace back to a family of farmers, brings a reverence for nature and simplicity to the table. His penchant for plant-based dishes and meticulous ingredient sourcing complements Tinoq’s bold, hearty creations, resulting in a kitchen where contrast sparks creativity.
WAS YOUR LOVE FOR SINGAPOREAN COOKING SOMETHING YOU GREW UP WITH?
Tinoq: I would say it was love at first sense, or love at first bite. I think the moment my mother conceived me, she must have been eating all her favourite foods, whether it was street food or dishes from kitchen of our neighbours, and the people who loved and adored her. I was born in 1964 and raised in a kampung, so it was multiracial and multicultural. Everyone had their own garden, and their backyards were filled with all kinds of tools for everyday cooking — from granite grinders to batu tumbuk and all sorts of things. So I’d say my curiosity started in childhood. I was always fascinated by the kitchen – the noises it made, the aromas it produced.
WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MOST VIVID FOOD MEMORIES FROM CHILDHOOD?
Tinoq: My most vivid memories are of breakfast and dinner. I grew up in a kampung along Alexandra Lane, just next to the popular Starlight cinema. The area was surrounded by mama stores and pushcarts, and there was so much amazing food, such as soto, prata, Indian rojak, wanton mee, char kway teow, and more. I can’t even pick a favourite. But it made life feel so bright and beautiful — because every morning, I’d wake up knowing I could find all these dishes just steps away.
COULD YOU TELL US MORE ABOUT YOUR FAMILY’S CULINARY TRADITIONS?
Tinoq: Both my mum and dad are great cooks. My paternal grandparents were vegetarian because they were Brahmin, but when my mother married my father, they built her a separate kitchen so she could cook and eat whatever she wanted. I love both Northern and Southern Indian food, but I also love Chinese food — Teochew, Cantonese — you name it. My mum actually started cooking for birthdays and weddings when I was in my early teens. I followed her everywhere. She even ran a canteen at Gillman Barracks Camp.
We used to wake up very early in the morning to help her prepare the kuehs and mee siam. My job was to steam the sweet potato, mix it with a little flour and nutmeg, shape it into donuts, fry them, and coat them in liquid sugar. It’s called kuih keria, and it’s still my favourite kueh to this day.
I’d say my nose is very sharp. So whenever someone started cooking in their kitchen, I’d be the first to offer help. Even after school, I’d jump from one kitchen to the next, to pound chilli, buy ingredients, fry ginger, or pick herbs from the garden. I was influenced by everyone around me — not just my family, but people of all races and their favourite foods.
My mother kept ducks and chickens, and I used to collect seaweed for the ducks from Labrador to Haw Par Villa, before they reclaimed the coast. I also gathered discarded vegetables from the market behind our home. As for rice, we’d get it from our Malay Muslim neighbours, because my mother was very particular — our family tradition was always to make sure that whatever we cooked could be shared with our Muslim relatives and neighbours. Our ducks only ate vegetables and stale rice from them. So the meals I grew up with weren’t purely Chinese or Indian — they were a mix of everything. It could be fried rice, stir-fried vegetables, kuah lemak, curry — usually always served with rice. And we’d almost always have soup: bayam soup, taucheo and ikan bilis broth, or a simpler version of ABC soup. Simple, hearty, soulful meals.
HOW WOULD YOU DEFINE SINGAPORE CUISINE, AND WHAT CAN WE DO TO KEEP THESE FOOD TRADITIONS ALIVE?
Tinoq: We’re still a young nation. Most of the dishes we eat today originally came from elsewhere —Singapore is an immigrant country, after all. The Malays were the first here, but over time we’ve absorbed Chinese, Indian, Thai, and Eurasian influences. Many of these foods already exist in Malaysia, but when they made their way here, I feel we managed to put a Singaporean stamp on them.
I’ve been very blessed, and I’d dare say gifted; whatever I eat, I can replicate it, sometimes even make a better version. Hawker food is part of our nation’s growth. We should do our best to preserve it, to carry it forward, and to make sure it stays accessible. Because it represents us — our identity and culture. The government should pay more attention to preserving our food heritage. Food is deeply important. Whatever we’ve lost should be documented, and whatever remains, we must protect and celebrate.
For Dylan and myself, as chefs, we travel everywhere to promote Singapore’s culinary heritage. To us, food is the heart of the nation. It’s where people gather over a drink, a meal, to dream about the future or reflect on the past. Food is sacred. Food is spiritual. That’s why you’ll find people of all races sitting at the same table, sipping teh tarik, soya bean milk, or enjoying chendol. That’s the beauty of it.
WHAT HAS BEEN YOUR PROUDEST MOMENT IN PRESERVING OR ADVOCATING SINGAPORE’S FOOD CULTURE?
Dylan: Though Singapore is a young nation, our cuisine has carved out a special place on the world stage. Whenever we travel, people immediately talk about our multicultural, melting-pot food. Yes, it shares roots with Malaysia — which we adore — but Singaporean dishes have their own character, a distinctive taste and signature touch shaped by the hawker stalls and home-cooked meals we grew up on.
I’ve learned that even when a recipe appears across Indonesia or Malaysia, Singapore adds its own twist by using the very best herbs and spices sourced from Asian countries. Thanks to Tinoq, I’ve wandered markets like Tekka, Geylang Serai, Little India, and Chinatown, soaking up the spirit behind every ingredient. What I love most is that great food here comes with great heart — never overwhelmed by showy plating or decadent toppings, just the right amount of character and a unmistakable Singapore touch. Ultimately, our food is unique because of our multicultural people. We’ve gathered the best from each other’s kitchens, habits, and creations, turning them into something uniquely — and proudly — Singaporean.
WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE MORE OF WHEN IT COMES TO HOW LOCAL FOOD IS APPRECIATED, REPRESENTED, OR TAUGHT IN SINGAPORE TODAY?
Tinoq: Back in the day, we didn’t have many utensils or fancy cookware. We relied on natural materials like banana leaves, lotus leaves, bamboo leaves. These weren’t just practical; they added flavour and character to the food. In my younger days food tasted better. Why? Because we used charcoal, coconut husks, even wood fire for cooking. We steamed food over fire. That’s why I believe it’s so important to create food programmes, cooking demos, or even simple videos — so younger generations can see how things were done in the past, and understand why food back then made us so happy.
We need to find creative ways to excite the next generation, to show that our traditional food can evolve and stay relevant. Presentation matters. Clever, thoughtful use of ingredients matters. I believe it’s our responsibility, as chefs or cooks, to pave the way forward. Take nasi lemak, for instance, it doesn’t have to be just sambal and ikan bilis. It can be paired with so many other dishes. Or chicken rice can be reinvented as sushi or onigiri.
That’s part of what we’ve done with Krispilala — transforming iconic Southeast Asian dishes like buah keluak and soto ayam into tempeh crisps. We’re not just making snacks; we’re reintroducing these bold, nostalgic flavours to a new generation in a format they already love — crunchy, addictive, plant-based bites.
Dylan: “This one’s close to our hearts. We’ve always believed every PasirPanjangBoy product should fly the flag for local food culture, so we started by perfecting our own rempah — fresh or powdered — that we can lug around the world for demos, corporate gigs, or private-dining pop-ups.
When it was time to pick flavours for Krispilala, we zeroed in on two spice mixes everyone seems to love. “The first is Buah Keluak: a nod not just to Peranakan kitchens but also to Malay and Indonesian traditions, with savoury notes reminiscent of rawon. The second is Soto Ayam —Tinoq’s personal obsession. He will try every soto he can find, and this version, rich with fresh herbs and that signature yellow tinge, felt perfect.
We tested both rempah on wafer-thin tempeh and agreed: Soto is universally comforting, while Buah Keluak brings a deeper, almost ‘meaty’ intensity some folks swear is mushroom-like. To honour those flavours, I insisted that we source the best tempeh straight from mountain farmers —thin-sliced yet still satisfyingly crunchy. Because I’m health-conscious and won’t touch anything too greasy, we finish the chips with a high-tech air-fry method that locks in crispness without the oil. End result? Pure protein, big spice, zero guilt.
A huge shout-out to our best friend Anna Bervander, whose brilliant design and packaging made Krispilala leap off the shelf. Without her, none of this would’ve been possible.”
HOW DO YOU STRIKE A BALANCE BETWEEN STAYING TRUE TO TRADITIONAL FLAVOURS AND EXPERIMENTING WITH MODERN INTERPRETATIONS?
Tinoq: With all our dining collaborations, we always share our signature dishes and use ingredients thoughtfully, so that the other chef can understand and interpret our style. Whenever I travel, I tell the chefs I meet, ‘These are the herbs I’ve brought from Singapore. These are the spice pastes I’ve made. Would you like to try them and see if we can create a beautifully balanced dish together?’ That’s very important to me. And when they use our pastes or spices, it makes me feel incredibly proud, because they appreciate and connect with our food.
For example, when I cook mee siam in Japan and they don’t have taucheo or assam, I’ll adapt. I might replace taucheo with miso, and use ume (sour plum) to mimic the tanginess of assam, blending it into the spice mix.
The final dish is still distinctly Singaporean, but also reflects the local ingredients of the country I’m in. When someone tastes it and says, ‘Wow, I never knew something from my country and yours could taste so delicious,’ that’s the magic moment. It’s in those moments that Dylan and I feel the proudest – when people truly enjoy and connect with our food.
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Note: From now until mid December 2025, the Pasir Panjang Boy duo is collaborating with Orchard Rendezvous Hotel, for a private dining experience at the Heritage Room (located at #01-01A within the hotel). This exclusive menu features heritage Peranakan-inspired dishes such as the nasi ulam and more. To book, call: 9695 4124.
