Parramatta’s iconic laksa shop is moving. Here’s why you should visit the OG spot while you still can

A young woman recently brought her grandmother to Temasek for lunch. It was her 99th birthday, and she had insisted on having her favourite Singaporean dish at her favourite Singaporean restaurant.

Half of Sydney probably has its favourite Singaporean dish at Temasek, if truth be told, be it curry laksa, nasi goreng, or Hainanese chicken rice. The menu hasn’t changed much since it opened in 1992, which has given us all plenty of time to get acquainted and addicted.

When I last reviewed Temasek in 1998, the laksa was $7.80, pork satay, $9.80, and a brilliantly lurid ice kacang dessert, $3. I called it a bloody gem, citing the hawker stall buzz, crushing crowd and value with a capital V.

Twenty-six years on, we’re both a little worn around the edges, but I’m curious to see how it sits in today’s much-changed dining landscape. Still relevant, or an old dinosaur? (Talking Temasek here, thank you very much, not me.)

The menu hasn’t changed much since it opened in 1992, which has given us all plenty of time to get acquainted and addicted.

Back then, co-founder Susan Wong created benchmark recipes for everything from beef rendang to roti with curry sauce, building a generation of loyal fans. When she died in 2014, her son Jeremy Cho took over operations with the aim of continuing tradition.

Up the laneway next to the old Roxy picture palace (now sadly closed and gated), Temasek is still modest; a functional dining room with textured walls and batik-covered tables. The rules haven’t changed much, either. No split bills. BYO wine only. Corkage $2. No soft drinks brought in from outside. Plastic containers (50 cents) are available for you to pack your own leftovers.

A whoosh of curry aroma comes when you crack into the crisp, dry pastry of the vegetable curry puffs (three for $12), each fringed with an impressively neat braid. They need chilli sauce; just ask.

The laksa is genuinely thrilling; the pastel-toned coconut milk broth flecked and speckled with fluorescent orange oil, with a high tide of all the pounded aromatics that form the base paste. No wonder they sell 500 to 600 bowls of laksa every week.

The best variation, for me, is a bit each way – a combo of chicken and prawn with a mix of egg noodles and rice noodles ($27.80, these days). The chilli quotient is kind but insistent; the chicken silky, prawns plump, fried bean curd absorbent, egg noodles bouncy, and rice noodles soft and gentle.

Hainanese chicken rice ($21) is one of the most soothing dishes in the Singaporean playbook, with its just-cooked, skin-on, lightly jellied chicken served alongside glossy chicken rice, broth and chilli and soy sauces. This is done well, but there’s only so much boneless chicken breast I can eat. Next time I’ll read the fine print, and pay $1.50 more for thigh meat.

There’s a satisfying, straight-from-the-stove charred energy to the char kwai teow ($25.80). The flat rice noodles hold their texture along with wilted bean sprouts, crisped slices of lap cheong sausage (in lieu of crunchy little cubes of rendered pork fat), decent small prawns and dark sticky sauce.

Ker-chang, ker chang. The ice machine sounds as if it might need a service. It may not be a coincidence that my tall glass of high-mounded ice kacang ($7.80) is actually pretty icy, with minimal toppings.

But around me, I see contentment; people nodding slowly as they eat, communing over food that connects them to their heritage and culture. “We have people who come here on consecutive days to eat exactly the same thing,” says Cho. “It’s a great feeling.”

Temasek has more competition these days – many cheaper, and one or two better – but this humble, hard-working team is deserving of icon status.

Finally, a news flash: Temasek is moving! The new location won’t be far away, promises Cho, will open with similar hours, and is expected to happen within a year. So, if you want to experience Temasek as it always was, come soon – especially if you’re 99.