Having spent more years than I would have loved to in a desolate town in Perak during my university years, I never once heard of “famous” Menglembu wantan mee, despite being a “mere” 30km away from the little cowboy town (pun totally intended). It’s not uncommon for me to find myself in Menglembu one or two weekends every month, just to feast. Wantan mee was among the many dishes that I savour regularly there, but it never struck me as “famous”; so when I noticed a little shop in Damansara Uptown that claimed to serve “famous” Menglembu wantan mee, a stir of skepticism and curiosity both piqued within me.
Was what I use to have on a semi-regular basis really that good, but I failed to appreciate it? Do people really have such low expectations of wantan mee, that it was so easy to be “famous”? Have I been eating wantan mee that’s not from the famous shop, and have been missing out all this while? I had to find the answers to my questions; and I knew I would find them at Annie 1.
Apparently, I have been missing out my whole university life. The unpretentious springy noodles dress in predominantly in soy sauce and oil, and the humble little floating dumplings in the soup are standard fare, leaving nothing to be complained about and little to shout about; leaving the char siew to have all the glory.
The melted fat and honey-like glazing are merciless towards the calorie-conscious and a boon to all who are afflicted with porcine cravings. Straightfowardly porky, sweet, and juicy, with no surprises or twists; it’s simplistic appeal is so well-executed, its fame is earned deservedly.
While the five-to-ten-ringgit price range keeps my pocket all smiles, the crowds of families usually means I end up feeling a tad impatient and annoyed with slow service (despite having a call button to get service), but good char siew, as pork-loving Malaysians seem to agree, is always worth a little wait (weight?).