When I asked what made this dish special to him, Mr Bo’s response was simple: “I like curry.”

But there’s much more to his story than just that.

When Mr Bo immigrated to America from Hong Kong in 1980, he started working in Boston’s Chinatown. 

“The first job I held in America was at a restaurant on Beach Street. It used to be called Lung Toi, but the name’s been changed,” he recalled. “I learned to make this dish there.”

Mr Bo wasn’t always a chef from the beginning, though—he began as a dishwasher and a busboy, then worked his way up to become a cook responsible for everything 炒 (chow), or stir-fried, from beef rice noodles to fried rice to these Singapore noodles (which, contrary to popular belief, are not Singaporean in the slightest…they’re Cantonese).

“The job itself…” he paused. “I can’t say it was great. It was hot, and the hours were long.”

“But I was happy with my coworkers, and we had a good relationship.”

At the time, Mr. Bo hadn’t yet gotten married; many of his work friends found themselves in the same position. So after work, they would go to eat—here, Mr Bo interrupted himself, saying, “You couldn’t even call it a midnight snack, because it was 4am by then!”—at a 24-hour hotel diner nearby. 

After a meal and a conversation, they headed home to recuperate ahead of their next shift. 

When he left the restaurant industry after twenty years, Mr. Bo began to cook for his own consumption and enjoyment. 

“At the restaurant, we didn’t really have to make food for ourselves, because they provided it,” he explained. “But after I got married, I cooked more, and made Singapore fried noodles fairly often.”

Now, at Simon C. Fireman, Mr. Bo cooks for himself. He makes these noodles sometimes, too. 

“But it doesn’t taste the same as it would have at the restaurant because you won’t be able to get a fire as hot as theirs,” he warned. “And if you have an electric stove, you can’t use a wok.”

“Still, it’s good.”