Market report
A feature of many neighbourhoods in Singapore, wet markets aren’t just for locals and are well worth a visit.
Guy Hoh | 23 December 2011

WET MARKETS
How it all began | Getting the best deals | Language of the people | Locate a wet market
In many cities, the equivalent of Singapore’s wet markets would be the weekly farmers’ market.
The difference is that as Singapore produces none of its own food, most of the fresh produce on sale are from Malaysia, Indonesia and Thailand and these days, pretty much from almost anywhere else in the world.
Nonetheless, the wet market “is an authentic experience with nothing scripted,” says Savita Kashyap, whose company Journeys Pte Ltd offers visits to the Tekka market at Little India and the Smith Street market at Chinatown as part of its Original Singapore Walks programmes.
Tourists, expatriates and residents seeking further insight into this aspect of local life find the visits fascinating, says Savita.
“Japanese tourists usually ask the butchers what cuts are used for which local dishes, while British and Australians marvel at how our markets are segregated into halal (permitted under Islamic law) and non-halal sections.”
The first wet market
The first wet market on record is the Telok Ayer market at Market Street, which was completed in 1824, two years after its location was chosen by Sir Stamford Raffles, founder of Singapore. Today, it is better known as Lau Pa Sat, a popular hawker food centre in the business district.
Modern wet markets - with their daily hose-downs, excellent drainage and ventilation — are a far cry from the grimy markets of old with their open rubbish tips.
They retain their appeal as the freshest of raw food can be found there.
Then there’s the haggling: regular patrons of particular stalls always start off by complaining “Wah, so expensive,” and the vendor inevitably barks back a reduced price or offers a discount (“You buy ten dollars worth, and I’ll throw in an extra”).
Patrons may also get a basic lesson in supply and demand or a news and weather report (“You know, the Bangkok airports are closed because of the people’s strike” or “it’s been flooding in Malaysia”).
The most established ethnic wet markets are the Geylang Serai (Malay), Chinatown’s Smith Street (Chinese) and Tekka (Indian) markets, although most neighbourhoods in Singapore have their own local markets.
To find the nearest one, all you need to do is ask a local shopkeeper. Wet markets nearly always have a hawker food centre next to it.
Vending in a wet market is controlled through licensing by the Agri-food and Veterinary Authority of Singapore. And as with all traditional occupations, it has had to deal with modernisation, changing the product mix and the way of doing business. For example, live poultry slaughter at the markets ended in the 1990s.
Wet markets are also under threat in urbanised Singapore. The influx of supermarkets and eating out as a way of life have led to a shrinking customer base. Fewer walk-in customers have led many ageing stallholders to close their business.
Vegetable degrees
Yet there are others like Victor Chia, 35, a third-generation greengrocer in his family, who sees new opportunities.
Along with his 50-year-old uncle Desmond, he took over the family’s vegetable stall which has been operating since 1981 at Tekka market.
The younger Chias (who like to say they have “vegetable degrees”), speak English and a smattering of other languages picked up from their international customers. They sell Asian vegetables as well as Western greens air-flown from Australia, New Zealand and Europe.
Like peers who have taken over family businesses from the older generation, the Chias know that new product ranges are necessary to keep and expand their present-day clientele who are often well-travelled.
Says Victor: “We offer what our customers look for, which is why we have rocket, baby spinach and other fresh salad leaves that suit Western cuisines.” The stall is also rigged up with speakers playing jazz music.
Chia’s Vegetables Supply even has its own brand of olives and sundried tomatoes, and also supplies to the family-owned Café Epicurious and Sweet Salty Spicy Thai restaurant at the Rail Mall in Bukit Timah.
New age spice
Older stallholders still in the business know too, that new strategies are needed. Modernity has its fruits, too, as Miriam Bebe, 39, and Aisha Haniffa, 48, explain.
Their grandmothers started the stall about 50 years ago, and both women have taken over since they were in their 20s. Their spices are sourced from India, Indonesia and China.
Says Aisha: “Business is more challenging these days. Younger people don’t know about the old ways of traditional cooking and most just want ready-made, all-in-one pre-packaged stuff.” But Aisha gets new customers who beat a specific path to her stall, thanks to her son’s occasional postings on the internet.
Both women also send their spices overseas, to countries including Australia, Germany and Taiwan — fulfilling orders for tourists who have visited their stalls, but who have since returned home.
Fishy business
Fishmongering, an occupation synonymous with wet markets, is one that has been handed down generations in Chinatown’s Smith Street market. Malcolm Wong, 53, learnt from his parents and has been in the trade for over 40 years, selling live eels, catfish, turtles, frogs and the snakehead fish among his various offerings.

Malcolm continues to slaughter and prepare his produce — not so much as a spectacle for visitors but because his regular Chinese customers know their purchases cannot be any fresher after witnessing the ‘kill’. (The Chinese often insist on freshness because they believe this enhances the products’ healing and other powers.)
Most of his customers used to be home cooks, says Malcolm. But these days it’s the owners of cooked food stalls that make up “50 per cent of sales” for him.
Local restaurants and hawker stalls also help keep alive the Tanga Banana Leaf stall in Tekka Market for Mdm Dhanikudi. The shy, quiet 55-year-old woman has run the stall since her husband died four years ago. Hers might just be one of the last banana leaf stalls in Singapore.
Nature’s best disposable flatware, her banana leaves are delivered fresh daily from Malaysia. They are then bundled into tens and sold for a dollar a bundle.
As for “Master Butcher Joe”, who’s had a stall at Tekka market for 14 years, he serves them all, from hotel chefs to hawkers and housewives.
A formally-trained butcher, the 56-year-old has been working with meat since he was 12, and can skew his slicing skills to whatever a customer desires.
He can cut his chilled meats from New Zealand, Australia and the United States for beef short ribs for Korean bulgogi or for French trimmed rack of lamb as well as for local curries and stir fries.
As added value, he provides cooking tips to customers, and will even make halal sausages on request.
Nothing beats choosing the food for yourself, says Chris Millar, the Group Executive Chef for the One Rochester restaurant group.
A big Tekka market fan, he is assured of the freshest food because customers there are “ruthless and don’t stand for stale food,” says the Singapore permanent resident of nine years.
His personal marketing tip: “Smell everything. If herbs don’t have aroma or fruit doesn’t smell sweet, or if the fish or meat smell, then it’s probably not going to be good.”
* This article was first published in Singapore Magazine (Jan-Mar 2011 issue).
Guy Hoh | 23 December 2011
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