Grand Yong Tofu.
Welcome to my episode of “Places Food Magazines Won’t Cover.”
Ding Tai Fung’s foreclosure did not hurt me.
Franchises, come and go.
The closure of Grand BBQ, however, got me like COVID.
It was the first yong tofu 酿豆腐 place in Melbourne.
It was hidden in an arcade, next to then-Target; now-K-Mart.
$12 for six items, pick your noodles and soup base, and wait for the lady to call out your ticket.
Here’s a summary: Yong Tofu is yumcha in a bowl.
It’s a pain to make. Because you have to make the fish paste (hopefully) fresh, then stuff the fish paste into the (hopefully) fresh vegetables by hand. You can’t freeze them because the texture will be terrible, so the shelf life isn’t long.
If you think Jiro ramen with their strict rules of ordering, and how ramen chefs don’t allow customers to talk while dining is oppresive, Malaysian Yong Tofu welcomes you.
I went after uni, I went after work, and I went with my then-girlfriend, now-wife after picking her up from work.
My wife complains that the fish paste is unnecessary, and I mentally roll my eyes.
Why are you here then?
Oh I know, because in Japan, they don’t put anything nutritional in their noodle soup1.
Apart from yong tofu, they also make decent roast items on rice, or noodles. Soup, or dry.
It was history.
I must have caught it like dogs with diabetes, as I took a photo of it in 2023.
Last year, the barricade went up, without any notices.
It took a piece of my heart, like a crushed Horcrux.
The next shop is going to be another franchise.
Boy was I wrong.
Last month, as I was doing a trial run for my food tour, I took the shortcut, cutting from Bourke / Swanston to Russell, and I saw it.
The same counter with roast duck and charsiu, unmistakeable coloured pictured menu.
The same lady at the counter.
Pink hues oozing to the ceiling, with a new name.
The lady recognised us, and I told Chika, she seemed … happier?
There’s even a corner for Ikebana flower arrangements.
Hey Google: play Marvin Gayle’s “what’s going on”.
It's like reuniting with an old friend you thought you'd lost or who had undergone a tremendous change. Questions flood your mind, yet above all, you're simply happy they're back.
It still didn’t prevent my brain from going Bruce Wayne.
Here’s my deduction after observing the shop for fifteen minutes2: the lady in pink pants above, was the new owner.
She decided to take over, renovate the shop, and keep the lady (front of house) and the chef (back of house). She added her touch of flowers and decorations on the counter.
She decided to increase the exposure of Yong Tofu, so they made posters as selling points left and right.
My concern about $21.50 for a bowl of Yong Tofu was addressed with a enshitifcation lite option of four items instead of six for $16.
Like I said, simply happy they are back.
Why is this important?
The new owners of Grand Taste could have pulled a bubble tea, a sando, a green tea, an ice cream shop.
But I feel like some considerations have been applied3.
And they decided to give ‘old’ a chance.
I’m just having a kick imagining the new owners brainstorming:
I like ‘grand’, but ‘BBQ’ is too literal. We do more than BBQ. We need… a bigger picture.
Well, it’s all about the taste, isn’t it?
Wait a minute, what did you just say???
I don’t know if we need a franchise.
But we do need a place to get some roast BBQ on noodles or rice.
Preservation of Yong Tofu.
In a small arcade.
This is important to me, because Yong Tofu outliving DTF’s Xiao Long Bao is wild.
And worth celebrating.
I like ramen, but think about it, it’s true.
Note: Bruce Wayne makes mistakes all the time.
Or lack off. New owners could’ve gone ‘you keep cooking’, just let me redesign the space. Which again, isn’t a bad thing.