Double Claypot Curry Fish Head & Ribs Pot (CLOSED)

Note: Double Claypot Curry Fish Head & Ribs Pot is now closed.

You have to applaud a restaurant whose name is made up of its two signature dishes: fish head curry and claypot pork ribs. And luckily for them, both are outstanding enough to be shouted across the drab restaurant signage with little to no irony.

Down the road, teenagers congregate at Rekindle, SS2’s wai sek kai murmurs with activity, and Jojo’s Kitchen fills with those who slurp on pan mee. People walk about as if unknowing to Double Claypot, unknowing to the fact that delicious curry lurks in their presence. But perhaps Double Claypot’s biggest flaw is that it hasn’t done a lot to make itself known. The restaurant’s interior seems to have been designed by someone who was allergic to colour, and in the company of the night-time buzz in the area, it drowns. But trust us, if you look past the hospital ward lighting, you’ll be greatly rewarded.

On a rainy Thursday night (bless the rain where curry is present), the curry, the colour of turmeric, is brought frothing and bubbling in a clay cauldron. On first taste, it’s mildly sweet with strong notes of ground coriander in the curry blend. It varies from other fish head curries in that it’s mild, less reddish, less fishy and less sour, probably from the absence of tamarind. The fish is cooked perfectly, chopped into chunks and left in the curry like floating baubles. When left to sit, the curry takes on the juiciness and freshness of the tomatoes inside it. The tofu puffs explode like little bombs in the mouth, releasing bursts of sweet curry.

The party hits a high when the claypot ribs arrive – a pot of braised pork in sticky brown sauce, topped with crunchy snow peas and carrots. The sweet soy glaze clings on to the meat, the soft bones break apart with little pressure, and the julienned carrots provide an edge among the melting textures. It’s not a sophisticated sight – of you sitting down, ribs in hand, crunching on pork bone as you half-listen to your dining partner. You might wonder, how could something be so graceless and so delicious in equal measure? Once you’ve eaten your way through, you owe it to the pig to scrape the caramelised soy bits that have stuck to the bottom of the pot. Take care to discreetly position the pot near your free hand and away from your dining partner, so to unobtrusively dive in with a spoon just as you see the bottom. Do it for the pig.