Home Chef Secrets: Tips From Singapore's Best Home Cooks

The Wisdom of Experienced Hands

There's knowledge you can learn from cookbooks, and there's knowledge that only comes from cooking ten thousand meals over fifty years. The latter is what we sought when we sat down with some of Singapore's most accomplished home cooks—aunties and uncles whose families line up for their cooking, whose recipes are guarded like state secrets.

These aren't professional chefs with culinary school training. They're mothers, fathers, and grandparents who learned by watching, failing, and trying again. Their kitchens don't have sous vide machines or precision thermometers. They have dented woks, trusty cleavers, and decades of accumulated intuition.

"Book recipe tell you teaspoon of this, tablespoon of that," explains Auntie Lim, 74, shaking her head. "But your teaspoon is different from my teaspoon. Your ingredient is different quality. You must learn to feel the right amount, taste the right balance."

What follows are their distilled insights—advice so fundamental that it's almost invisible to experienced cooks, yet transformative for those still learning.

Secret #1: Don't Wash Your Mushrooms

"Mushrooms are like sponges. If you wash them, they absorb water and when you fry, they steam instead of frying. You lose all the flavour, all the texture. Just wipe them with a damp cloth—that's enough."

— Madam Lim, 72, Tampines

This seemingly minor tip reveals a deeper principle: many ingredients have ideal moisture levels that washing disrupts. Fresh mushrooms should sizzle and brown when they hit the pan, developing deep umami through the Maillard reaction. Waterlogged mushrooms simply expel moisture and turn grey and rubbery.

The same principle applies to meat you're planning to sear—pat it dry with paper towels first. Moisture creates steam; steam prevents browning; browning creates flavour.

Secret #2: Scissors Are More Important Than Knives

"In a Chinese kitchen, good scissors are more important than a chef's knife. Use them to trim fat, cut noodles, debone chicken wings, chop scallions directly into the pot. Less washing, less cutting board. My scissors do half my prep work."

— Uncle Tan, 65, Bedok

Western cooking education emphasises knife skills. But Asian home cooks have long known that kitchen scissors (especially the heavy-duty Japanese or Korean varieties) handle many tasks more efficiently. They're safer for cutting slippery raw chicken, faster for snipping herbs, and create less mess overall.

Some specific uses that Uncle Tan demonstrates: cutting kimchi directly into a stew, trimming the edges off dried mushrooms after soaking, portioning noodles in a bowl, and jointing a whole chicken (the joints cut surprisingly easily with good scissors).

"Young people think they need all these expensive knives," he laughs. "I use three things: cleaver, scissors, small paring knife. Sixty years of cooking, never needed more."

Secret #3: Taste As You Go, But Account for Reduction

"Remember that sauces get saltier as they cook down. If it tastes perfect at the start, it will be too salty at the end. Season conservatively first, then adjust at the final stage. The water evaporates, but the salt stays."

— Sarah, 45, Bukit Timah

This is one of the most common mistakes even experienced cooks make. A braised dish tastes perfectly seasoned when it's swimming in liquid, but after an hour of simmering, that liquid has reduced by half and the salt concentration has doubled.

Sarah's approach: undersalt by about 30% during initial cooking, then taste and adjust when the dish is nearly finished. For dishes that reduce significantly (curry, braised meats), she waits until the final 15 minutes to fine-tune.

The corollary is equally important: if a sauce is too salty, you can sometimes save it by adding unsalted liquid and continuing to cook. But this changes the texture and concentration of other flavours—a fix, but not an ideal one.

Secret #4: Cold Oil for Aromatics, Hot Oil for Searing

"If you want to infuse oil with garlic or dried shrimp, start cold and let it heat up slowly. If you throw them into hot oil, they burn before the flavour comes out. But for searing meat, you want the oil smoking hot so the meat doesn't stick."

— Auntie May, 58, Ang Mo Kio

This single piece of advice solves many beginner problems. The technique is called "cold-oil infusion" in culinary terms, and it works because delicate aromatics need gentle heat to release their volatile flavour compounds. High heat destroys these compounds faster than they can transfer to the oil.

Auntie May demonstrates with dried shrimp: she puts a tablespoon of oil in a cold wok, adds the shrimp, and turns the heat to medium. As the oil heats, the shrimp gradually turns golden and the kitchen fills with intense umami fragrance. By contrast, tossing dried shrimp into smoking oil produces burning and bitterness within seconds.

For searing meat, the opposite applies. You want the Maillard reaction to happen before moisture can leach out—which requires immediate, intense heat. Cold oil means the meat stews in its own juices.

Secret #5: Rest Your Meat (Yes, Even Stir-Fry)

"Everyone knows to rest steaks and roasts. But even simple stir-fried beef slices benefit from resting. After you cook them, set them aside for even one minute before plating. The fibres relax and the juices redistribute. Small thing, big difference."

— David, 40, Marine Parade

David is a mechanical engineer who brings a scientific mindset to his cooking. His explanation: when meat cooks, the muscle fibres contract and squeeze moisture towards the centre. If you cut or serve immediately, that concentrated moisture spills out. A brief rest allows the fibres to relax and reabsorb liquid evenly.

For stir-fries, he recommends a simple technique: cook your protein first, remove it to a plate, cook your vegetables, then return the protein just before serving. The protein naturally rests while the vegetables cook, and gets reheated just enough when combined.

For larger pieces of meat, the principle scales up. A roast chicken should rest for 15-20 minutes. A steak, 5-7 minutes. The meat will stay warm longer than you expect.

Secret #6: The Nose Knows Before the Eyes

"I cook by smell more than by sight. When the garlic smells fragrant, add the next ingredient. When you smell burning, you waited too long. When the dish smells complete, it usually is. Train your nose—it's faster than checking with your eyes."

— Mdm. Ong, 69, Toa Payoh

Mdm. Ong is legally blind in one eye and cooks almost entirely by smell and touch. Her food is legendary in her HDB block—neighbours place orders for her curry chicken during festive seasons.

"When I first lost my vision, I thought my cooking days were over," she shares. "But I discovered I was already cooking by smell. I just didn't know it. The eyes were just confirming what the nose already knew."

Her advice for developing this skill: close your eyes while cooking familiar dishes and pay attention to the smell progression. Garlic goes from raw and sharp to fragrant and sweet to acrid and burnt. Onions progress from pungent to sweet to caramelised. These smell transitions happen before the visual changes become obvious.

Secret #7: Overcrowding Is the Silent Killer

"The number one mistake I see: putting too much food in the pan. The pan temperature drops, water comes out, everything steams instead of fries. Better to cook in three batches with good results than one batch of soggy mess. Patience is faster than impatience."

— Uncle Raymond, 62, Clementi

Uncle Raymond spent 30 years as a hawker before retiring, and he watches home cooks with the pained expression of a professional watching amateurs. His biggest frustration? Home cooks who rush.

"At the hawker stall, I cook small portions over very high heat. Each plate takes 90 seconds. At home, people try to cook for four in one go with medium heat. Takes 10 minutes and tastes like nothing. If they just cooked four small batches, each would be delicious and the total time would be six minutes."

The science is simple: every ingredient you add drops the pan temperature. Professional kitchens compensate with powerful burners home stoves can't match. The only home cook solution is smaller batches and patience.

Secret #8: The Wok Needs to Breathe

"Don't stir constantly. The food needs to sit on the hot surface to develop colour and flavour. Stir, then let it sit for 10-15 seconds. Stir again. If you keep moving the food, it never gets hot enough to sear. Let the wok do its job."

— Auntie Rosie, 55, Serangoon

Auntie Rosie trained as a dim sum chef in Hong Kong before settling in Singapore. Her technique is noticeably different from most home cooks—she tosses her wok with dramatic flourishes, but between tosses, she lets the food sit untouched against the hot metal.

"I watch people stir-fry and they're stirring constantly, like they're afraid," she observes. "But constant stirring means nothing ever touches the wok long enough to brown. You get grey food with no character."

Her pattern: add ingredients, toss to distribute, then hands off for 15-20 seconds while the bottom layer browns. Toss to rotate, another pause. Repeat until done. The result is vegetables that are charred on edges but bright and crisp overall—the hallmark of proper wok cooking.

Secret #9: Save Everything

"Shrimp shells make stock. Chicken bones make stock. Vegetable scraps make stock. Parmesan rinds go in soup. Old bread becomes breadcrumbs. Nothing is waste—everything is ingredient for tomorrow."

— Mdm. Chen, 76, Geylang

Mdm. Chen grew up poor and carries that frugality into her cooking today. Her freezer contains carefully labelled bags of what most people throw away: prawn heads and shells, chicken backbones, ginger ends, wilting herbs, mushroom stems.

"Young people spend $5 on stock in a box. I make better stock for free from things they throw away," she says with visible pride.

Her specific tips:
- Shrimp shells + heads: Toast in a dry pan until pink and fragrant, then simmer in water for 20 minutes for bisque-worthy stock
- Chicken bones: Roast until golden, then simmer for hours for rich bone broth
- Vegetable scraps: Freeze until you have enough, then simmer for vegetable stock
- Parmesan rinds: Add to soups and risottos for umami depth

Secret #10: Cook for Someone You Love

"The secret ingredient that no recipe includes: love. When you cook for someone you love, you pay attention. You taste carefully. You don't cut corners. That attention is what makes home cooking special. If you cook like it's a chore, the food tastes like a chore."

— Auntie Mary, 80, Queenstown

Auntie Mary is the oldest cook we interviewed, and perhaps the wisest. She's been cooking daily for 60 years—first for her late husband, then for her children, now for her grandchildren. Her hands shake slightly, but her curry still draws the whole family home every Sunday.

"People ask me, 'What's your secret recipe?' But there's no secret ingredient. I use the same curry powder everyone uses. The difference is that I cook for people I love, so I cook carefully. I don't rush. I taste and adjust. I make sure it's right before I serve."

Her observation cuts to the heart of home cooking: the best dishes come from cooks who care. Professional chefs have skills and equipment, but home cooks have something restaurants can never replicate—the irreplaceable ingredient of cooking with love for specific people.

Carrying the Tradition Forward

These secrets aren't really secrets at all. They're the accumulated wisdom of generations, passed down through watching and practice, through trial and error, through thousands of family meals.

What strikes us most from these conversations is how universal the advice is. Whether the cook is Teochew or Peranakan, Malay or Indian, the fundamentals remain constant: respect your ingredients, master the basics, cook with attention, and feed the people you love.

"In my generation, every woman could cook," reflects Auntie Mary. "Not because we were talented, but because we had no choice. You learned from your mother, you practiced every day, and eventually you got good. Young people today have too many options—they can order food, eat out, buy frozen. They never have to learn."

"But," she adds with a smile, "the ones who do learn, they discover something precious. The satisfaction of feeding your family with your own hands. The joy of a recipe that becomes yours. The connection to all the mothers and grandmothers who came before. That's worth more than convenience."

These tips are our small contribution to keeping that tradition alive. May they serve you as well as they've served us.