Smack bang in the middle of a South Indian cluster of divine proportions stands this trendy Nyonya eatery. Replete with the token naked brick walls, a hipster bicycle by the entrance, signage done with tongue-in-cheek forethought, and a clinically clean appearance, I had doubts about how the food would venture.
This was a very decent Laksa. Definitely nowhere near the top tier of KL's offerings, but decent. My main gripe would have been the choice of noodles. They were oddly uncomfortable to eat. Broth and accompaniments all held their own, but the noodles dragged all things beneath the murky surface.
A collection of short blog posts about my daily bowls.