Author: Sgt Noms

The Coconut Club
No. 6 Ann Siang Hill
Singapore 069787

Nasi lemak, a few sides to share and a non-alcoholic drink was around SGD20 per person

+65 6635 2999 (no bookings though and reserve the right to only seat complete parties)

Fuck naw to the straw?
When I went to The Coconut Club, they were still serving drinks with straws by default. However, I wrote to them after my meal to ask them to consider saying #fucknawtothestraw or at least going “Straws on Request” and in a stunning and amazing fuck yeah action, they went straw free practically overnight. What’s been even more inspiring has been to see how this small change has their entire operations considering how can they lead a more sustainable hospitality existence. Fucking incredible work guys and for this, FYN gives you a massive FUCK YEAH. Follow their journey on Instagram.


The deal:
I love smashing up a local hawker feed but sometimes you want things to be a little more comfortable than being jammed into a hot and steamy hawker centre with grimy tables, dirty floors and pigeons stalking you for remnants of your meal. This is why I ended up at The Coconut Club for lunch, cause I wanted Asian eats without the sweat session. The Coconut Club had its birth after a Singaporean dude, Chef Eng Su, attended a Nasi Lemak conference in Malaysia and decided that he wanted to bring that fuck yeah Malaysia Truly Asia nasi lemak feeling to Majulah Singapura. Go on, you know you want to sing it:


This is where we cue all the Malaysians out there just shaking their heads and being all,”Yo Singapore, why are you even bothering because as if they’ll even come close to Malaysian nasi lemak, or real talk, [insert any other dish here which Malaysia and Singapore both do]“.  OK OK WE GET IT MALAYSIA, your food is better and cheaper, always and Malaysia be like:


I tried The Coconut Club for a Sunday lunch time slot and this is most definitely a queueing scenario. The line moves relatively swiftly for small parties but if you’re trying anything more than six, be prepared to wait around at least 15 – 20 minutes. The sign reserves the right to only seat complete parties but even while I wait for my more tardy homies, The Coconut Club’s manager is smiley as fuck and isn’t too strict on this, offering us drinks while efficiently managing the whole system which I give a major fuck yeah.

The Coconut Club has a small menu, taking the route of focussing on their star of the show – the Nasi Lemak Ayam Goreng Berempah (SGD12.80). Most Singaporeans believe this is a fucking expensive plate of nasi lemak.  Nasi lemak as a dish is simple enough – some rice cooked in coconut milk, fried chicken, ikan bilis (dried fish), peanuts, cucumber, a fried egg and some sambal.  I get where The Coconut Club is playing at because nasi lemak in Singapore can be a bit of a crap shoot. It’s often a very cheap snack, wrapped up in banana leaves for a couple of bucks, a whisper of sambal and some ikan bilils, a hawker centre dish with a runty piece of chicken and some sad ikan bilis or you can go all fancy for some nasi lemak for SGD20+ in a hotel restaurant and you’re a bit, why did I just spend so much money on a bit of rice and chicken?

My plate of nasi lemak arrives and it looks like soaring dreams and resplendent hope.  The turmeric fried chicken (ayam goreng berumpah) captures my heart beause it’s not lame ass dried out chicken breast but the far superior fuck yeah chicken thigh and drumstick, my mighty Khaleesi, Queen of the Dark Meat.  Coated with other fuck yeah spices like lemongrass and galangal, with a little bit of chilli, it’s juicy and tasty as fuck.

The Coconut Club pride themselves on having gone on an extensive coconut hunt when they were developing their recipe over two years before settling on using Malaysian West African coconuts, specifically from a plantation in Sabak Bernam, Malaysia.  They make their own coconut milk in-house to ensure peak coconut rice times and as someone who once tried to grate a coconut to make coconut milk before firmly putting into the “NEVER DOING THIS FUCKING BULLSHIT COOKING TASK AGAIN” bucket, I can fully respect the effort behind this.  The effort behind this doesn’t seem to be in vain though because The Coconut Club’s rice is pure fuck yeah magic and you all know what I’m about, CARB LIFE IS THE BEST LIFE, and this nasi is most def best life standard carbs.


All the other elements on the plate get the fuck yeah tick of approval.  It all seems simple enough but so many places fuck it up.  There’s crisp as fuck ikan bilis, slices of cucumber which aren’t flaccid, stinky pieces of watery sadness, a fried egg with its crisp frilly edge and a runny yolk, and the peanuts are fresh and well roasted.  Importantly, there’s a very decent portion of sambal which pulls the whole thing together.  No sambal, no nasi lemak life.

The Coconut Club offers some other dishes to get, such as the market price fried fish and the sambal lala (quite well regarded, but sold out when I went).  I had a side of Otak-Otak (SGD10.50), a fish cake made from ground fish meat, tapioca starch and spices before being grilled in a banana leaf package which was fucking delicious. Sad times though, the sambal stingray was a bit mushy and lacklustre.  I’ll be real, I wouldn’t mess around with the flop stingray sidepiece next time and just stick to the Nasi Lemak main event.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get the cendol because I got ambushed into having a nine people lunch (ugh, my nightmare – I don’t know why people love eating in a herd so much, I’m not a fucking antelope) meaning that I didn’t want to bother with the logistics of who wanted dessert or not.  Let me get back to you because ice ice baby, I fucking love that cendol jam.

Fuck yeah nasi lemak times with a fuck yeah to making changes to a less plastic straw filled future.  Expect to see this one on the list when my FYN homies ask me where they should eat in SG when they visit before they blatantly ignore me.

OK FYN Homies, it’s 2018 and it’s time for us to get real and talk about SINGLE USE PLASTIC



Fuck don’t be like that – but I used to see the Facebook posts and videos on these Zero Waste Warriors who were all “Yes, I went to the shops the other day and forgot my bag so I just got my dried goods lady to spoon my raw almonds directly into my hand and then I just walked home, clutching my nuts, smug in the knowledge that I’d avoided using a plastic bag”.  I was just wallowing in my plastic filled life, sipping on my Slacktivist Soda with a plastic straw and was all, this sustainability shit is for overachievers amirite?


But what changed for me was I started seeing information on just how long these plastics last, where it ends up in landfill, the ocean or our food chain. Let this hot piece of 1990s Bon Jovi explain to you just how long plastic kicks around in the environment:


More importantly, it was the mental shift in how sure, some people are goddamn environmental angels who don’t use any plastics and have completely moved to using bamboo leaves to wrap everything in their lives, the rest of us should just focus on taking small steps to reduce our plastic usage as every small positive change adds to a larger change.  Then the final thing that pushed me well over the edge was the images of our oceans and beaches being completely choked by gross, fuck no plastic trash and then going to a supermarket and seeing shelves of vegetables and fruits, all wrapped in plastic on plastic trays.  It seemed that everywhere I looked, the food and beverage business seems to be all:


So here it is, The FYN Guide to Being Sustainable AF as told through pop music cultural references.


This is one of the easiest steps anyone can take to reducing their plastic footprint and I refer to this as the “gateway step” to reducing plastic, as it’s small, doesn’t change your life and easily makes a change.  Just say #fucknawtothestraw and if you really need to drink from a straw, BYOStraw (there’s many great sustainable options, made from stainless steel or bamboo.  I use a rad gift I got from a FYN homie, from Bambuhay).  Restaurants, I’m really sympathetic because keeping reusable straws clean is a complete and utter ballache, not to mention paper straws which fail at their sole purpose (transporting liquid from glass to someone’s mouth).  Real life footage of a paper straw in a drink:


So, my two suggestions are reusable is great in theory, but REAL TALK for most drinks, we’re all entirely capable of using our mouths to drink direct from a glass.  And if restaurants feel it’s that essential to their customers to have straws, at least move to a “Straw on Request” model to see who really asks for them.

FYN Homies, this is where I encourage all of you to write to EVERY single restaurant / bar you go to which still serves drinks with plastic straws.  I now take this step with every place I go and sometimes you’ll get a FUCK YEAH response where they’ll actually write back and they will stop using straws overnight and other times, at least you start the dialogue.  From little things, big changes grow.  I’ve even prepared some copy-pasta for you guys to use.  Make sure you comment / tag me in any positive dialogue you get back and use #fucknawtothestraw:


I had drinks at your establishment recently and noticed that you guys are still using plastic straws in your drinks. Globally, millions of straws are used a day which are used for a few minutes and then end up in landfill forever, never to decompose. Reducing single use plastic is a small step that restaurants, bars and consumers can take to try and reduce our plastic footprint. Can I suggest that you consider removing plastic straws from your drinks? If you really feel that straws are vital to your clients’ experience, a plastic reducing option is to make it a “straws on request” establishment – ie. Serve drinks by default without a straw and wait for someone to ask before you provide them with one. The straws that you use might seem innocent enough but you multiply this by all of the bars and restaurants in the world and that’s a lot of plastic straws which will outlive us all. Let’s see if we can all be part of the change.

YOUR NAME HERE #fucknawtothestraw

And if they’re assholes about it or don’t even dignify you with a response, pick another venue who is doing more about this to give your business to.



Disposal PET water/drink bottles are so unnecessary, especially when you live in a country where the tap water is potable.  It takes a bit of organisation and forethought, but BYOBottle, fill up where you can and stop being part of the cycle which sees PET bottles just breaking down into smaller, toxic particles. If you get caught without water, think about whether going without bottled water for one hour is actually going to kill you.  Pop bottles all night when you BYO and as TI notes, you can have whatever you like without being part of the single use plastic bottle problem.



I am someone who is practically mainlining coffee just to drag myself through the tedious and dull existence that is known as Monday to Friday.  Those plastic coffee cup lids and waterproof paper cups aren’t going anywhere though from now until the end of time.  If your barista can’t pour your drink into your own cup (I use a KeepCup) then find one that does, before celebrating your righteous entry into truly living and breathing the sustainable Cup of Life.



This one is obvious AF – bring your own bag and don’t take plastic bags for your food or shopping.  Fighting off plastic bags is a constant battle and I’m bellowing “NO BAG” all the time, at everyone.  But for real. is there any point in taking a plastic bag which you get to use:


But if you fuck up and you forget to bring your bag out to the shops, like no biggie – just at least try to reuse it:


Then go back to strumming your environmentally friendly heart with your cloth tote bag.

FIVE:  BYO Container / Utensils

Ok, this one’s a little bit more intense because you’re ordering your sad little box of overpriced salad and you don’t want to upset the production line that they’ve got going on.  But how do you even know if it’s an issue?  I’ve found that most places are actually pretty chill about you bringing your own container and if they’re not, plenty more boring ass salad options around or bring your own lunch.  Single use lunch plastic bums me out so hard – I see it all in the trash, plastic container, plastic utensils and all wrapped up in a plastic bag.  My normal salad joint made the move from plastic to cardboard containers, but said they couldn’t find an affordable, sustainable lid option.  So I keep my plastic lid that fits their containers, wash it and bring it back every single time.


So there you have it, that’s my five, easy fuck yeah steps to leading a less plastic filled existence.  Even if you just start with one less straw, one less coffee cup or one less plastic lunchbox this week, that’s one less piece of plastic that’s going to kick around forever.  Take a small step and see where it goes.  Support businesses who are making steps to more sustainable choices (cause that shit costs more than the cheap plastic options).  As always, let me know what works for you and believe me, together we can all be better.



Amò Restaurant
33 Hongkong Street
Singapore 059672

+65 6723 7733, but fuck me, Singapore is in the #digitaldisruption future and you can book this shit instantly on Quandoo or Chope.  SEND ME A FAX HK AND WRITE ME A CHEQUE, I DON’T MISS YA PREHISTORIC WAYS.

Out at SGD90 each, including one drink.  Without booze, would estimate SGD60-70ish a person.

Fuck Naw to the Straw?
Unfortunately, Amo are still handing out FUCK NAW PLASTIC STRAWS.  So make sure you specify #fucknawtothestraw when you order

The deal:
Amò is your casual though trendy Italian joint on Hongkong Street, which opened mid-2017.  I’m into its interior with its blue-grey tiled walls, white tiled floor, dark wood, just enough well thought out lighting and fuck yeahhhh, tables that aren’t sitting on top of each other.  First thing I noticed though is that their waiters are completely and totally on their fucking shit.  FUCK YEAHHHHH it’s a relief because I find in Singapore, waiters are often very friendly and well intentioned but actually getting their attention practically requires you to trip them over because they have fuck all peripheral vision.  Our waiter homie is sorting us all out on drinks and spruiks some special negroni (SGD20++) that they’re doing with grapefruit juice instead and of course I’m here for it and fuckkk it’s A1 delicious.  Unfortunately, it’s also in Singapore which means I only have one to avoid bankrupting myself before I get to the food.

We tear through our ordering with his help and he asks whether we want it all at once or as it comes. To be honest, I’m not even sure why he bothered asking because Amo’s kitchen is Usain Bolt fast, our starters and mains flying to our table within minutes of our order.  The crispy calamari with sumac and sundried tomato aioli (SGD22+) is the first dish to hit our table and it’s so fucking good.  I fucking love it when my deep fried shit comes out fryer fresh, without a chance to cool down and get a bit sad under a heat lamp.  With its crispy AF batter and the tender squid, it’s a bang on way to start shit off.  I really wanted to get the zucchini flowers with mortadella, pistachio and lemon honey but fuck, at SGD25++ for a scant two flowers, no way I could justify dropping SGD50++ to feed our table of four, a zucchini flower each.

Unfortunately, our other starter of the burrata with eggplant salad, walnuts and bottarga (SGD28++) was firmly in the fuck no camp.  You know how sometimes you see something on a menu and you think “Wow, I’ve never had that before”.  That was me with this dish, wondering why burrata would forsake his normal eternal life partner, the tomato.  So I’m riding the new combo frontier and it’s a bite of only ok burrata with a mushy mess of eggplant that has some lumps in it which you assume is bottarga (cured fish roe) and you’re all, “Yeah, I get why you guys aren’t really a thing”.  


Lucky we get to quickly move past this low point with the bone marrow, wild garlic pesto and anchovy salsa verde pizza (SGD32++).  Amo pride itself on its naturally leavened pizza bases, made with semolina and extra virgin olive oil and rightly so, because their pizza base was a major fuck yeah.   Fantastic bite through, not too thick or too pathetically thin, it’s got a bit of char on it and they haven’t scrimped on the toppings.  There’s nothing sadder than a pizza where the restaurant decides it’s perfectly ok to allocate one piece of salami per quarter or something equally fucking miserly.  The bone marrow has been cooked well so it’s not just a fatty, gross lump and fuck me, the wild garlic pesto is just fucking great in its sharp garlic and bright basil flavours. TL:DR:  PIZZA GOOD, GET IN HOMIES.

You all know what life I’m all about and yasssss, carb life, pasta life is truly my best life.  I hesitated on ordering the caserecce with black pepper, guanciale and saffron (SGD27++) because these simple pasta dishes can be so super fucking dud if any one component of the dish is fucked up.  Regardless, Mr Vegetables was all “I don’t know two of those words in that dish but let’s get it”, which is the exact sort of attitude I require from my dining homies.  My hestitations were unfounded though because this was O M F G best carb times for sure.  Caserecce is a free form, slightly twisted pasta which means all the more surface area for the fuck yeah olive oil, cheese, rendered down fat from the guanciale (cured pork cheek) to adhere to.  Topped with a little bit of freshly ground black pepper and crispy bits of guanciale, this was my fuck yeah winner winner best in show dinner dish of the night.


The fettuccine with beef shank, mushrooms and orange salmoriglio (SGD28++) also made my heart go boom boom for fuck yeah carbs with the tangy orange salmoriglio sauce playing nicely against the smokiness of the beef shank and mushrooms.  Some of my dining homies declared this to be their favourite pasta of the night.  Either way you swing, both pastas at Amo were definitely not a waste of your fuck yeah carb quota.

The black cod with crab cioppino (fish stew) and fregola (SGD38++) was also fucking delicious.  Two pieces of perfectly cooked black cod are served on a bed of fregola (a spherical pasta, similar to Israeli couscous), cooked into a big bodied crab cioppino stew.  Every component on this dish was a fuck yeah, which meant that we scraped this dish clean.  We also had a side of baby gem lettuce with crispy pancetta and anchovy sauce (SGD12++) in that token attempt to try and get some, sigh, greens in our life.  Don’t bother making the same #newyearnewme choices my FYN homies cause this was such a dud side.  Like why do I want to eat quartered tiny lettuces that have been drenched in what feels like mayonnaise (it’s the anchovy sauce).  It just felt like a caesar salad trying to go posh and overall just became an exercise in FUCKING WHY.  I was just all, hey gem lettuce dish thing why are you even trying?  Why are you even a thing??  Why am I not eating more delicious and more well thought out pasta instead??


For dessert, there’s one of my all time fuck yeah Italian pud puds, the Tiramisú (SGD18++).  It looks like it’s gonna be a winner, chilling out in its fancy ass glass bowl with chocolate curls grated looking all classy and shiz.  Unfortunately, it’s ratios are all over the fucking place like the reliability of the Singapore trains and there’s just too much cream interspersed with some soggy bits of liqueur soaked sponge.  I’m sure Amò weren’t going for this but it just reminded me of when your bread crusts fall into the sink and get all waterlogged and puffy in the drain.  Our table thought the almond cake with strawberries, lemon honey and vincotto (cooked wine) (SGD15++) sounded like it was going to kick some goals but instead it just kicked us in the face by being a massive dud.  It’s this dense cake, dusted with bits of toasted nuts which doesn’t really show case anything good at all.

Fuck, it’s honestly getting to the point with restaurants and sub-standard desserts that I feel like I need to specifically ask to talk to the chef, look him or her dead in the eye to determine their commitment to pud and say “Chef Homie, level with me – I know you’re not a pastry chef and this isn’t probably your jam but are you or are you not dialling in your dessert menu?  Cause I’m not here to dish out SGD15++ for some cake that you’ve thrown on there just because you had to have something in the sweets section”.  I JUST CAN’T FACE ANYMORE SUB-STANDARD END OF MEAL CAKE:


So some dud points but overall, carb life is the best life and dude, Amo romps it all the way home in the pizza and pasta stakes.

Fuck yeah!!! But don’t waste your time on dessert, double TRIPLE down on carbs.

Fuck yeah, it’s 2018 and it’s time to set some resolutions for restaurants / bars everywhere. My fuck yeah suggestions for everyone to take onboard this year:

ONE: Importing international chefs to “run” restaurants in Asia before sneaking them out of the country, leaving a poorly executed mess of a restaurant behind. I don’t fucking care how many wet market photoshoots you do where you’re sniffing a bok choy with an old Asian grandma in the background, you can’t keep trying to pass this shit off onto us.


TWO: Saying “small plates” are “designed for sharing” because let’s be real my restaurant homies, if it’s one fucking bite of overpriced food, no one is sharing shit with anyone. DON’T LIE TO ME, just pony up with the goddamn truth and call them “small plates designed for one”.  Or ants.  But don’t fucking kid yourself that a miniature arancini can be shared between a table of four, you ain’t Jesus with the fishes and loaves and biblical shiz.


THREE: If you’re gonna cop out and have pre-bottled or barrel aged cocktails, commit to pumping out those drinks quick smart.  Why the fuck are you still bringing me my aperitif cocktails after the food has arrived when I know you don’t have to mix shit?!  While I’m bitching about drinks, can we also cut it out with sexist characterisation of drinks – ie. men love whiskey imbued with power, while women love rose tinged with unequal pay and subservience.  It’s 2018 and we can move past this, I assure you.


FOUR: FUCK NAW TO THE STRAW. Fucking hell, it’s 2018 and we gotta do something about our fuck no, out of control plastic situation. Let’s all commit as restaurants to stop handing out that shit and as consumers, let’s stop asking for that single use plastic bullshit which we use for a minute and then it lasts forever.  None of us need to have a straw to drink because we all have hands and lips which will work just as well. GTFO of here straws.


FIVE: Misogynistic and sexist AF awards, advertising and campaigns for restaurants. Take the stand this year homies and if a restaurant pulls that shit where they think that their patrons are so fucking shallow that an inviting pair of tits or a piece of hot ass is the reason why you should go and eat there, complain loudly and ensure you don’t ever fucking eat there. Regardless of any bullshit excuses they might have such as there’s live music playing in the background which makes it a performance or “Oh no, don’t worry BB, we also have male models in shitty, skimpy costumes too”.  YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE HK, THE FANGS ARE OUT:


SIX: Let’s make a general fuck no grab bag of resolutions addressing Eating Out Fuckery which we’ve all had enough of and has carried on for far too long – four hands anything, Michelin guides, World’s Best 50, pop up tom foolery, bullshit booking systems, HKD150++ tacos, brioche anything, “homies” who still think it’s edgy to sneak out and do lines in restaurant toilets before coming back a gibbering mess to the table (sorry sweetpea, this looks nothing like confidence), restaurants which bang on about sustainability but fly all their goddamn ingredients in and all that other bullshit which takes away from FUCK YEAH NOMS and good times with homies.  NO MEANS NO, WE’VE ALL HAD ENOUGH, go take your place in the Shame Cube and don’t come out until you’ve had a long hard look at yourself.


With that, HAPPY FUCKING NEW YEAR HOMIES – hope you’re all ready to tear the balls off this year and fucking kill it. Shit’s been a bit hectic in 2017 with me getting my Majulah Singapura life organised but I’m back and ready to smash it up.  I hope you’re ready to come along for the fuck yeah ride.  Share your 2018 resolutions in the comments below.

xo fucking xo
Sgt Noms

11 Westside
1/F, The Hudson, 11 Davis Street
Kennedy Town, Hong Kong

FYN Hot Tip:  The entrance is not immediately apparent nor marked – so you kinda have to duck around and go up a set of stairs.

I dunno, I couldn’t see it on their FB page and they don’t have a website.  Like, if you can’t be bothered to put it on your own fucking FB page, why should I bother looking it up?  Largely no reservations anyway.

I got out at about HKD300 (including 10% service charge), no alcohol.  I had some snacks BEFORE dinner somewhere else and I definitely could have eaten more.  I’d estimate spending around HKD400-600 on food before drinks.

The deal:
The press got all revved up in April that Chef Esdras Ochoa, a real MEXICAN who is behind being the Sonoran MEXICAN restaurant, Salazar, in Los Angeles had booked himself a one way ticket to Hong Kong to open 11 Westside, his first project in Asia which was aimed at bringing real MEXICALI food to Hong Kong in Kennedy Town. I understand that it’s the HK based, Mexican Luis Porras from the Epicurean Group who is behind this 11 Westside jaunt, who are also “famed” for their other HK Mexican restaurant, AGAVE Tequila Y Comida in Wan Chai on Lockhart Road.  I’ve also done some additional sleuthing to try and figure out whether Chef Ochoa has since bought another one way ticket out of HK, as is the standard modus operandi for these chefs who set up shit in HK before fucking right off again but I haven’t been able to find anything conclusive so it’s entirely possible the Taco King of LA is still kicking about Kennedy Town and doing his MEXICAN thing.  So I guess Chef Ochoa is still FILTH – Failed in Flown in from LA, Trying HK?


Predictably, 11 Westside is a no reservations joint.  Currently, they only take reservations if you book out at least half of the restaurant and seeing as it seats around 120, this is going to be as 0% helpful for most people.  But seeing as these guys have got a hour plus wait to get a table anyway, I get why they’ve given the big fuck you to taking reservations and will instead direct you to a terrace area where you can chill out and get some drinks while you wait.  A lot’s been said about their decor with most people liking it.  Those fringed chandeliers and slick black surfaces sure are distracting and might trick you into thinking it’s a cool place but I just couldn’t get past this weird Mediterranean Grecian thing that they’ve got going on, with these arches and cherub mural situated behind the bar.  How does this happen?  Do you walk into discussions with your interior designer and he’s all “So what’s the story?” and you say “We’re thinking LA, Mexican, taqueria, you know, the usual shit about ~taking references from Asia and paying homage to local ingredients~, green spaces and sexy tequila nights” and your interior designer quizzically looks up from his sketch pad through a cloud of one hell of a hangover and wearily goes “Look, my geography isn’t real red hot but is Mexico in Europe?  Is it kinda like Spain but in the Mediterranean? Do you know how much I love murals with cherubs on them with some fake ass vines and shit to make it feel like you’re one step away from a vineyard? Don’t worry, I’m also gonna put some potato peelers and kitchen utensils on the wall in picture frames cause ~paying homage to local ingredients~ amirite?” before chugging back on alka-seltzer tinged with regret as he puts his shades back on to try and shield his eyes from the indignity of still being conscious when the sun’s still up.


When we rocked up we were told to expect an hour wait, but we were lucky and got a table within 15 minutes.  I’ve heard mixed things about the staff and service at 11 Westside but I’ve got no complaints.  The front desk girls were quite lovely, even if they couldn’t seat us immediately, and our waiter was fucking excellent and completely on his shit, all night long.

It’s a concise menu, split into GSC (Gucamole Salsa Chips), Appetizers, Tacos, Entree and dessert.  There’s been much chat about the price tag on 11 Westside’s HKD150 guacamole that consists of two avocados, red onion, cilantro and chilli which is mashed up table side for you.  Let’s just rewind on that fact for a second – it’s actually HKD150 + 10% service charge for guacamole.  That’s right, USD21 for guacamole and chips.  OR if you think about what went down for us, we ordered the GSC (Guacamole Salsa Chips) with an extra serve of chips and that’s HKD180 + HKD10 (+10% service charge ) = HKD209 / USD 27 for fucking chips, guacamole and salsa!!!!!!  FUCK MEEEE, I know HK rents are expensive and all but still.  I gotta draw the line somewhere and the line is drawn here, ESPECIALLY when the guacamole needed more salt and lime to bring some brightness and acidity, and the salsa was bland as fuck.  Apparently Ochoa makes his salsa that way because HK people can’t handle spicy shit (not that anyone asked).  I know some people in HK are ok with this new price point (!!) which just proves HK makes you go fucking insane.  GUISE, CUT IT THE FUCK OUT, USD27 for chips, mediocre guacamole and super average salsa just because they smash the avocados at your table is NOT OK.


The Carne Asada Fries (HKD118 + 10% service charge) are fucking great but really, how hard can it be to fuck up mixing grilled USDA prime shortrib, melting some cheese all over it and adding jalapeno, queso fresco sauce, chiptole mayo, onion and cilantro?  This is hardly complicated culinary shit to execute cause deep fried potatoes, meat and cheese is always gonna be a fuck yeah winner.  Less successful is the Stingray Flautus (HKD78 + 10% service charge) which is a rolled up tortilla that allegedly contains stingray but honestly it could have been any sort of mystery meat.  It was fine to eat, in the way that you eat a deep fried spring roll and it doesn’t really matter what’s inside because it’s deep fried and salty.  But after all the banging on about the inspiration behind 11 Westside, who really gives a fuck about what influences you’ve taken on to make a dish if you can’t even tell what meat is inside of it?

The 11 Westside menu lists five tacos, the Al Pastor, Pollo Asado, Carne Asada, Caulifornia Veggie and the Chef Ochoa Special.  11 Westside makes their own flour tortillas which means there’s a chorus of people going “Bitch, where my fucking corn tortillas at?” and I’ve been told because Chef Oschoa is going for a LA feel where flour tortillas are the go to.  I’m neither Mexican nor from Los Angeles so I dunno what is the truth.  I checked in with one of my friends from California and she reckoned this was bullshit, given she found corn and flour tortillas all over LA as well. 

I went for the Al Pastor and the Chef Ochoa special, which was some sort of pork belly taco (HKD50 + 10% service charge per taco).  The Al Pastor uses pineapple roasted pork with auchiote (a red-yellow spice with a mild peppery flavour), topped with that infamou$ guacamole, salsa molcajete and fresh pineapple. It’s got a good fresh balance going on with the slight char of the roasted pork and the fresh, clean flavours of the pineapple.  I judiciously ensure I eat every last bit of guacamole because I’m not one to leave money on the table.  I’m also super into the flour tortillas, flaky and grilled so they’re a bit crisp on the outside but still soft when you bite through.

However, the pork belly taco is a major fucking flop.  The skin and fat is just chilling out in there as greasy, chewy lumps.  There might have been other things happening in it which I’ve completely forgotten about because all I can remember is hitting a bit of flaccid rind and chewing on that, as my back molars were getting all gummed up and for HKD50+ for a few bites, I am not here for that. 

11 Westside tacos are most definitely tacos for ants and at HKD50+, shit is gonna get expensive real quick if you intend to find satiety on these tiny-ass bites.  In a FYN exclusive, I have secured some honest to God real life footage of the 11 Westside kitchen making HKD50+ tacos:


There’s only two main dishes on the menu and we went with the USDA Hanger Prime Steak (HKD268 +10% service charge). It’s served with more salsa, grilled vegetables and a stack of grilled flour tortillas on the side.  It’s all, straight down the line fine.  Sure, the steak is delicious enough but after eating various variations of all of these components in other dishes, I just can’t get too fucking excited about rolling some meat in a flour tortilla and thinking it’s that different to the tacos I’ve already eaten in flour tortillas with the same salsa, or the salsa that was already with the chips and the beef that was already on the carne asada fries.  Ultimately, this dish just felt like a derivative of everything else I’d already eaten that evening.

So the food at 11 Westside isn’t a terrible car crash – as in, it’s all very edible except for a few low points like that gross AF pork belly taco.  But more importantly, there’s nothing about this restaurant that makes it memorable or food which will show you something new or interesting (unless seeing an avocado getting mashed up by your table is really that revolutionary for you).  For all the horn blowing about bringing REAL MEXICAN to Hong Kong with the REAL MEXICAN chef, I just don’t know how anyone would get it stiff for this place.  From the no reservations policy and the waiting period, the weird Grecian style interiors and then fuck, the sky high price points for guacamole and minuscule tacos.  But then you read other HK reviews which are like:


And all I gotta say is, oh HK food writers, Y U so easily impressed??


HK, if something like this is enough to qualify as one of the hottest openings of 2017, you really gotta check yourself before you really wreck yourself. A snoozey, lack lustre fuck no.

%d bloggers like this: