For many young Malaysians, studying something like information technology (IT) feels like one of the safer choices for the future.
At least that’s what Poh Kang thought when he chose this path.
Four years later, he graduated from university and found himself working in game development — a career path many would consider promising.
But when he turned 23, he walked away from it and two years on, he now wakes up at 5am daily to prepare ingredients such as char siu (barbequed pork) that would be paired with bowls of hearty wanton mee sold at a stall in Petaling Jaya.
Strangely enough, the hawker life was something Poh Kang had been drawn to long before he touched game development.
Chose IT for a ‘future’
Growing up, Poh Kang described himself as an average student, although mathematics was one of the subjects he excelled in. Thus, when it came time to choose what to study, IT seemed like the logical option.
I chose IT because people always said the future and career prospects would be better. You hear people saying a certain industry is good, so you follow.”
He eventually specialised in game development and landed his first job in the field after graduating.
For more than a year, he worked on games. And contrary to what one might assume, Poh Kang said there was nothing particularly terrible about the job.
“The pay was decent for a fresh graduate, there were opportunities to move forward and I could have continued building a career in the industry.
“But I became quite bored with my job, and I realised I was actually more interested in the food and beverage (F&B) industry,” he admitted.
Grew up around hawker stalls
Food was never unfamiliar territory to Poh Kang as His family had been selling bak kut teh for around 40 years which spanned across two generations.
As a child, Poh Kang remembers watching his mother hard at work and would occasionally lend a hand, which also gave a firsthand look of how exhausting the hawker life could be.
“When we were in primary school, teachers would ask what we wanted to be when we grew up. People would say policeman or firefighter.
“But I actually thought about becoming a hawker as I’ve always been quite interested in this line.”
Having seen how hard his mother worked, going into a professional career seemed like the more sensible choice, only to find himself being pulled back into very life he grew up witnessing years later.
Takeover
Poh Kang had been regularly visiting a nearby wanton mee stall when he learnt that the vendor was looking for someone to continue the business as his family wasn’t interested in doing so.
“I didn’t really think that far at the time. I was already feeling bored at work and when I saw there was a chance to learn the ropes, I thought of giving it a try.”
However, there was a problem: Poh Kang had spent four years learning about all things technology-related, but not wanton mee.
Furthermore, walking away meant potentially starting again from zero. And as expected, this didn’t sit well with several people.
Amidst all the doubting and questioning, Poh Kang’s mother expressed unwavering support for her son and was confident in his ability to succeed, as long as he was willing to work hard.
Learning without a salary
At his mother’s encouragement, Poh Kang left his IT job and began learning from the wanton mee vendor. For around four to five months, he did not receive a salary, choosing instead to view it as an apprenticeship.
His mornings started at 5am with him buying ingredients, preparing the stall, making wantons and learning how each component of the dish was made.
On top of that, he also had to master one of the most troublesome parts of the process: making the perfect charcoal roasted char siu.
“Most char siu is made using gas because it’s much easier. Charcoal heat is harder to control, but it gives the char siu a distinct flavour. That’s why I still want to keep doing it this way.”
By around 2.30pm, the stall would wind down for the day and Poh Kang would repeat the same cycle for the entire week, with Wednesdays being the only exception.
After several months, the vendor officially retired and Poh Kang took over. At this point, he had poured most of savings into the business and it effectively meant that there was no turning back.
‘Of course I was anxious’
One of the biggest question Poh Kang asked himself upon taking over the wanton mee stall was whether the gamble would actually work as he had no idea whether it would be enough to sustain him.
Thankfully, getting the business to break even was not as difficult as he initially feared. However, he confessed that it brought a different type of pressure.
“I was anxious. When you know what a good and bad day looks like, you will think about it. On quieter days, I’d stay at the stall and sometimes chat with the aunties nearby while waiting for customers to come.”
Poh Kang also said his greatest concern wasn’t the number of wanton mee bowls sold daily, but making sure every bowl was good enough.
“You want to make sure the food is good because customers know when something is different,” he added.
One thing Poh Kang’s IT career never prepared him for was dealing with dozens of customer preferences every day. Then of course, there are difficult customers he has to attend to occasionally.
For him, running the stall has taught him that making good food is only half the job, with listening making up the other half.
You have to be willing to change and accept people’s opinions. If customers give you feedback, you should listen unless they are trying to make things difficult for you.”
Over time, he began seeing more familiar faces returning to the stall, leading him to believe his approach has worked out.
More freedom at a cost
There are certain things Poh Kang prefers about his life now. Thanks to the fact that he starts his day super early, he has more free time for other things such as exercising and thinking about creating more content related to the stall.
But this freedom also comes at the cost of his social life taking a sharp dip.
“When my friends ask me to go out late or go up to Genting to watch the sunrise, I normally can’t join. It’s a bit of a pity, but I’ve accepted it.”
And despite choosing the hawker life voluntarily, Poh Kang is careful to not romanticise it, saying that it’s vastly different from office life.
“I wouldn’t say it’s not tiring. It’s definitely very physically demanding,” he laughed.
Within Poh Kang’s circle of friends born in the 2000s, he was one of the first to make such a drastic career switch. Since then, he has seen others quit their jobs to open cafés or pursue entirely different careers.
Despite his own experience, he does not encourage people to simply throw in their resignation letter the moment they get bored.
“Don’t just quit without anything planned. You need to think first about what you’re going to do next, how you’re going to do it and have some sort of strategy.”
For now, Poh Kang has no immediate plans to turn his wanton mee business into a large chain. His priority? Cooking up bowls of wanton mee that will leave customers hungry for more.
