Liu Lang Mian Noodle Bar: Lor bak chilli soba, grilled duck & more SG-Japanese fusion

I believe it was the Singaporean foodie in me that prompted my visit to Liu Lang Mian Noodle Bar in Alexandra. Are you even Singaporean if you’re not at least curious about local fusion cuisine? 

Here’s a quick run-down of Liu Lang Mian’s history. It all began when the founder, Chef Hubert, started a home-based business, SOBA25, after quitting his job as a Head Chef during the COVID pandemic.

Fast forward to 2024 and it has evolved into a physical store with a new name and new home. While they used to make their soba by hand, Hubert now sources noodles from his friend, who is a supplier. 

So far, the brand has a strong social media presence; the local Chinese-inspired Japanese noodle dishes in their ads caught my eye.

Upon arrival, Chef Hubert and his team greeted us warmly and soon set to work cooking our orders. 

The friend I brought along was fascinated with the graphics on the wallpaper, stating that it was an interesting retro aesthetic. I was glad she agreed to hop along so that we could try the dishes together. 

What I tried at Liu Lang Mian Noodle Bar

Liu Lang Mian Noodle Bar’s speciality is the Grilled Duck Soba (S$13.80), a first-time must-try. 

Full-bodied and creamy, the concentrated broth had an exquisite smokiness. From Chef Hubert, I learned that it was made from boiling duck bones and niboshi (Japanese sardines), which explained the strong umami. 

Unlike the usual thin Japanese cold soba, the buckwheat noodles were thick, chewy and bouncy. Truly a good fit for a hot soup dish!

The duck slices were layered on top of the noodles. Pink and tender, they reminded me of smoked duck rather than grilled, if not for the slight char on the skin. They were powdery, but it wasn’t too big an issue.

Menma (preserved bamboo) is something people either love or hate. Even I’m aware that bamboo can sometimes taste pretty strong or even unpleasant. Not the menma here – the sweet tanginess of brine covered the earthiness. There was a slight hint of that earthiness as I chewed longer, but I didn’t mind much.

We were prompted to add the Soy Ramen Egg (S$2) to elevate the experience. It was your classic ramen egg – browned from the marination, with a beautifully jammy centre. I was grateful that the whole egg was provided for the price, especially given prior experiences where I barely received half. 

My friend got the Signature Chilli Soba (S$13.80), a dry noodle dish, and selected Lor Bak (braised pork) as her protein. The nature of the dish reminded me of mee pok, except more atas. 

After mixing, the ingredients created a bomb of flavours and textures. The molten onsen egg, mixed into the soba, added a velvety mouthfeel. Together with the crackly chilli oil, seaweed and scallions, it created a savoury concoction. A little spicy for my taste but addictive; I snuck another bite from my fellow girlie’s bowl. 

The fatty pork melted in our mouths, sinfully so. It fell apart at first bite and released a rich, meaty flavour. Instead of seaweed, a square of deep-fried wonton skin was presented. Snapping the piece apart, we sprinkled it into the noodles for an added crunch.

Chef Hubert popped out of the kitchen to offer another recommendation: the Kelp Vinegar at our table. “Pour it over the noodles,” he told us, “It brings out their flavour.” Despite never having heard of kelp-infused vinegar, I was convinced. At that point, I was enjoying myself and fully ready to trust anything he said about the food.

He was right. The vinegar wasn’t overwhelmingly sour and went amazingly with the noodles. Kelp is, apparently, a suitable flavour enhancer for foods. I did taste a bit of the seaweed, but it was nothing too overpowering. 

Liu Lang Mian’s Ah Ma‘s Ngoh Hiang (S$6.80) is based on the chef’s friend’s grandma’s recipe. (That’s a tongue twister.)

Fittingly enough, the Ngoh Hiang tasted like the kind my ah ma would make, albeit less oily. Beancurd skin, encasing spiced meat and crunchy water chestnut bits. I don’t think I’d ever grow tired of eating this side dish.

Of course, Ngoh Hiang always comes with chilli sauce on the side. While it was sweet, I was instantly hit with a zingy spice upon taking a bite.

Har Cheong Karaage (S$8) was a fun play on har cheong gai (Chinese prawn-paste chicken) and karaage (Japanese fried chicken). The tidbits were, at first glance, similar to the latter in structure. In terms of flavour, they leaned towards the zichar dish, possessing a light shrimpy crust. 

Some parts were slightly tough but quite meaty, and the skin came off as one crackly piece. Chicken fat can be unpleasant due to the oily rubberiness, but the cuts of thigh meat they used didn’t have that problem. 

The mayonnaise didn’t add much to the already flavourful chicken. Other than being creamy with a slight zing, the sauce felt redundant and jelak, even. I preferred the dish with lemon; it provided a stronger acidity to pair with the fragrant prawn paste.

Final Thoughts

I was already anticipating quality fare (from reviews I’d seen online) but didn’t expect to actually have my mind blown. Admittedly, I did feel doubtful about the quality of the factory-made noodles but see now that it wasn’t anything to worry about.

My friend and I had a wonderful meal – we giggled like schoolgirls the entire time. As a soba novice and non-Chinese, she found it a good dip into new territory. 

Even though it was our first time, Chef Hubert and his team welcomed us like one of their regulars. Every diner was treated with the same respect and friendliness, which I highly admire! The fact that the place was filled within 2 hours of opening truly reflects the solid impression Liu Lang Mian Noodle Bar has created on customers, food and service-wise. 

Expected damage: S$13.80 – S$21.80 per pax

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