There is more reason to visit Taichung in Taiwan, especially now that it is home to the first three-MICHELIN-starred Singaporean restaurant in the world: JL Studio. JL stands for Jimmy Lim, a Singaporean chef, who, deep in his heart, has always had one goal — to put Singaporean food on the world’s culinary map. The eponymous restaurant serves as a platform for him to bring his vision to life.
“Wow,” says Lim when the statement "JL Studio is the first three-MICHELIN-starred Singaporean restaurant in the world” is read out loud before him. “This is a childhood dream come true. I feel extremely honoured and humbled about it,” he expresses.
Lim shares that when he started JL Studio, what he wanted was for Singaporean food to be seen on an international stage with a dynamic twist. “Whenever we talk about Singaporean food or Singaporean cuisine, most people simply leave it at a hawker or street food level,” he says. Compared to cuisines such as Japanese, French, and Italian, where the simplest and most rustic of fare have the potential to be elevated into dishes deserving to be placed over white tablecloth, Lim firmly believed that the same can be done for Singaporean cuisine.
Singaporean Food According to Jimmy Lim
“I believe it’s because Singaporean food is commonly perceived as affordable and always served in sizable portions, which is why there is a hesitancy to take it to the next level. There could be an assumption that if you bring Singaporean food to the next level, it’s not going to taste the same. And it really won’t! It’ll definitely be different, but I feel that the limitation lies in the fact that Singaporean cuisine is not being given that chance to be seen in a different form,” Lim says.
“In 50 or 100 years down the road, is Singaporean cuisine still going to be perceived as that $5 bowl of Laksa? Or will there be other new possibilities? This is a question I always ask myself.”
When asked to describe Singaporean food in his own words, Lim says that it has a very diverse range of flavours, with each profile intriguing on its own. “When the flavours come together, this mirrors the harmony of the different cultures present in Singapore,” he says. “Again, let’s take the example of Laksa. If you take out each ingredient, you’ll notice that every single one has its own character — pungent, spicy, savoury — that stands out on its own. But when you put everything together, there is so much harmony. That, to me, is the beauty of Singaporean food. It’s unique, fun, and interesting.”
A Father’s Love
Lim grew up in Taman Jurong in Jurong West Singapore, and as an only child, he shares that he has a close relationship with his parents, particularly with his father.
He recounts that his late father used to run a food stall in Taman Jurong that specialised in wok-fried dishes. “I believe food has secretly crept into my blood. I come from a small family of good cooks. My grandmother brought me up while my parents were both working, and I was always surrounded by delicious food,” he adds.
He fondly recalls late nights when his father would cook a scrumptious supper after a hard day’s work, and Lim would always be on the table ready to indulge in his father’s dishes. “He cooked a lot. Porridge, noodles, fried rice, you name it. My father really enjoyed eating, and during his free days, we would always go and explore new food. This is why I think I’ve established a sincere passion for food and cooking. It grew on me without forcing itself in,” says Lim.
“As a child, I didn’t really know what I wanted to be when I grew up, I just knew that I wanted to be like my father.”
The moment Lim realised that he wanted to cook for a living was when he turned 10. “I always thought my father looked so cool while he was cooking,” Lim laughs. “I mean, with all the knives, the fire, and how he would toss the wok — I found this very ‘macho’ as a child.”
Lim eventually learned how to make his first dish (an omelette) and gradually progressed to more complex dishes as he became more acquainted with the wok.
“I learned a lot of life lessons from him such as perseverance,” says Lim as he recalls a story about his father pushing through with work no matter the circumstance because he didn’t want to disappoint his customers. “I never really understood what he meant at that time until I started running my own restaurant.”
Lim adds that he and his father have shared a lot of priceless memories together, most of which involved food and cooking. “While my father taught me many things, well, the biggest lesson I learned was when...,” Lim takes a pause. “The biggest lesson I learned from him was on the day he passed away,” he says.
“I feel that the biggest lesson my father taught me was to appreciate the things around me while I still can.”
“I wonder sometimes if I took a lot of things for granted when I was young,” Lim thinks out loud. “The biggest thing one can do, I believe, is to appreciate the small things and to be thankful for them.”
Opening a Restaurant in Taichung, Taiwan
Lim’s father passed around the time Lim was about to graduate from SHATEC, a hospitality school in Singapore. During this period, Lim asked his mother if he could take over his father’s food stall, but his mother declined his offer and, instead, encouraged him to pursue his own culinary path. “I think that my father’s food stall held some really fond memories between my parents, to the point that my mother told me that it was too much for her to face,” Lim shares.
“Actually, the last conversation I had with my father at the hospital was about taking over his business.”
In the end, Lim’s mother ended up selling the business as he continued with his culinary pursuits. Lim describes losing his father as “losing his anchor”, and that as a fresh graduate, the world was his oyster. “I wanted to see the world and experience cooking in different countries. When I think about it now, my reasons for leaving were probably just excuses. A part of me just wanted to escape,” he shares.
But it seemed like Lim’s lucky stars were on his side. After a short stint at a hotel restaurant in Singapore, Lim found himself in Australia, and then, finally, in Taiwan, where he would carve out his culinary imprint on the world.
In Taiwan, Lim focused on his culinary work, staying in the same restaurant for years until he was finally promoted to head chef. “Most of the cuisine I’ve worked with was rooted in European techniques, so that was exciting,” he shares. And then came the fateful day when a space was offered up for him to do whatever he wanted, culinary-wise.
“01 February 2017 is a day I will never forget,” says Lim. The date mentioned is the opening day of JL Studio, and he will always remember his split-second decision to overhaul the entire menu. “I was initially supposed to serve modern European food, and I had everything in the menu finalised right down to the very last detail,” he shares.
A few days before the restaurant’s opening, Lim read the menu, and he thought to himself, “what am I doing? This isn’t me.” Although contemporary European cuisine was trendy at that time, Lim felt that he wasn’t being true to his vision. He immediately got rid of the kitchen’s inventory — much to the horror and shock of his team, swapped it with an array of ingredients used in Singaporean cooking, and trained his staff to cook Singaporean dishes. “We all had to start from scratch. I also never thought of hiring Singaporeans during this time because everything was just so busy, I didn't even have time to think. And the first three months upon JL Studio’s opening, I was doing all the work. There was no time to take a break. It was also very hard to please the local Taiwanese palate because our cuisines are so different,” Lim says. As of today, Lim proudly shares that he is still working with some of the same people he opened the restaurant with. “I’m just really thankful they believed in me,” he says.
Eventually, after months of gruelling work and adjustments, Lim and his team got into the groove and found a flavour profile that was still rooted strongly on Singaporean cuisine, but finally received the local Taiwanese folks’ nod of approval. “It took me a lot of reflection and humility to get to this point,” expresses Lim.
“When JL Studio was in its opening stages, ego was my worst enemy. It was what prevented me from making the necessary adjustments because I was stubborn and too headstrong.”
As compared to Singaporean food, which is mostly bold and fiery in taste, Taiwanese cuisine holds a certain delicateness to its flavours. Lim shares: “I had to slow down and think of how to make my food more acceptable. I needed to adjust and do more research in order to expand my knowledge of the local Taiwanese gastronomy. Often times, it was like working with a blank slate. I had to reacquaint myself with both Singaporean and Taiwanese cuisines and create a culinary experience that catered to both.”
“I will always find fault in my own food, and I am my own worst critic.”
Singaporean Food in Taiwan
The result of Lim’s efforts is seen in JL Studio’s acclaimed dishes such as the restaurant’s version of a local Taichung-style bao, where chilli sauce is directly squeezed into the steamed pork-stuffed bread bun. What Lim did was to create a Hainanese chicken filling inside the bao and pack Singaporean chicken rice chilli sauce into a squeeze bottle, so when guests are presented with the dish, they still get that Taiwanese local feel, but with Singaporean flavours. The bread course at JL Studio also comes in a playful execution of a lard-based candle that melts into a pool of aromatic oil infused with lemongrass, garlic, shallots, and chillies. Once the bread comes out, a sauce made with Chinese vinegar reduced with sugar is served alongside it. “Italian food is also big in Taichung, and the locals like to dip the bread in olive oil and balsamic vinegar. This is my version of that experience, but still keeping to the local taste profile,” he explains.
When asked about his experience of opening a restaurant of one’s mother cuisine in a foreign country, Lim is quick to warn that it is not going to be an easy journey. “You really need to persevere. You’re going to have a tough time, especially during the first few years. There is a high chance of failure. Make the necessary adjustments, but don’t lose sight of your vision. Luck also plays a huge part in this sort of venture,” he advises.
“It’s so hard for me to choose only one favourite dish from JL Studio!” Lim answers with a laugh when posed with the question. “They’re all my babies.” Lim goes on to share that he is never satisfied, but finally, he says that his current version of the Singaporean staple, Chicken Rice, is one dish that he is mighty proud of.
“In this version of ‘Chicken Rice’, we use local Taiwanese garoupa, and then we poach it the same way we would poach a chicken, but using an aromatic broth made with fish stock. We use chicken stock to cook the rice in, transform it into a porridge, and then blend it — this becomes the sauce. An adjustment made to the chilli is that we use Fushimi peppers from Taiwan; they are milder but still have that pronounced pepper flavour. It works really well for the dish,” he says. Another creation that Lim takes pride in is a dessert called Merlion. On the menu, guests will find map coordinates printed out without explanation, but a quick search will result to the various Merlion locations in Singapore. The dish itself comprises a mango curry parfait with fragrant coconut cream — components that are defining of the Lion City.
Despite the plethora of Singaporean dishes that Lim has presented in his three-MICHELIN-starred restaurant, there is still one that he hasn’t executed on its menu.
In a previous interview, Lim shared with us that his favourite Singaporean local dish is Curry Fish Head, mostly because it was his father’s signature dish at his food stall. He says about the dish: "Curry Fish Head is more than just a hawker dish; it’s a connection to my past, my late father, and the love he poured into his cooking. This dish holds a special place in my heart. Its flavours and aromas, etched in my memory, evoke deep emotions and treasured memories. I was raised on this delightful dish, savouring every bite as the memory of helping out and time spent with him at my father’s zi char stall. Curry Fish Head symbolises not only a culinary experience, but also the cherished moments and the love for cooking we shared. It’s a reminder of the extraordinary connection between food, memories, and the enduring passion my father had for his craft."
“When it comes to my version of Curry Fish Head, until this day, I still haven’t figured it out. I don’t know if it's a certain ingredient that I am missing, or if I am really just missing my father.”
“Maybe it’s my father that I really miss,” Lim says. “I don’t have the confidence to put this dish out yet because I know it won’t be the same as how I’ve always remembered it to be.”
A Promise to Fulfil
As of today, Lim has no plans of coming back to Singapore anytime soon. Contrary to what the wider population might think, being recognised with Three MICHELIN Stars isn’t a final achievement for Lim, in fact, it is only just the beginning.
“With the three-MICHELIN-star recognition, I feel that we were just given the ticket to open up Singaporean food to a wider global audience.”
“We will continue to keep pushing. It’s not like we’ve finished the race. We’re actually just at the starting point,” Lim says. “There is more pressure, for sure; more responsibility. But I’m glad that I decided to pursue Singaporean fine dining six years ago. The journey has just begun.”
When asked about the hypothetical chances of Lim coming back to Singapore to put up his own food stall just as his father did, Lim candidly shares that he is open to the idea, but with a disclaimer that, obviously, it will not happen any time soon. “While it really is not on my mind yet, one sure thing is that this hypothetical food stall will have the same name as my father’s, Yan Kee Food Stall 養記熟食,” Lim says with certainty.
“Because my father and I share the same profession now as fellow cooks or fellow chefs, I feel connected to him in some way.”
“After everything that has transpired in the past years and with JL Studio receiving its accolades, if I could have the chance to spend some borrowed time with my father, I wouldn’t even talk about the achievements. All I want is to be able to sit down and share a meal with him again,” Lim says.
“Cooking and doing what I do for a living — it’s the closest thing now that brings us together, yeah.”
