Roach Leg Restaurant #YKL


I almost ate a cockroach leg at a Hakka restaurant, Ying Ker Lou in The Curve. Who knows if you’ve eaten the head already?

Like this medical con case, I believe it is important for people to know about those who run their business irresponsibly, so that the irresponsible won’t think that they can simply get away with such mentality, especially when it affects the well-being of others.

Coming back from Japan really opened my eyes, and seeing this in my own country makes me feel ashamed. I used to think “This is Malaysia. What do you expect?” but is this really the best we can do? If a restaurant like #YKL can serve me roach legs, what are the rest stirring up in their gravy?

Last Wednesday after a long day at work, Big Guy and I thought it’d be nice to have dinner at our favorite restaurant and watch a movie after to unwind. #YKL used to be our favorite restaurant because the food seems healthier and premium at the same time. What happened was simply disheartening.

The second we entered, I went “Whoa“. Big added, “It smells like a wet dog in here!” We are in agreement – something smells not right for an operating kitchen.

We ordered our usual go-to clay pot dish of tofu, meat balls and snow peas together with two other dishes. Despite the smell, we quickly got used to it and started eating heartily; giving praises for the food along the way. Then it happened:

What I found lying in my spoon of abundance really shocked the crap out of me. I stared at it for almost a minute to avoid making stupid accusation. “What do you think this is?”, I placed the spoon right in front of Big for speculation and to get a second opinion.

“It’s a leg . . . A cockroachs leg.”

We looked at each other. FUCK. Hell no!

Called for attention and the waiters, as usual looked clueless as ever. One came over, took the leg and quickly wrapped it in a thick ball of tissue paper; protecting it with her life. Managed to snap a picture before my evidence was destroyed. The PR manager came trying to defend (?), asking “Where? Where do you find it?”

Where? It’s in that ball of tissue paper she’s holding, goddamnit. The waitress was reluctant to show my evidence. Fine, flashed the manager the disgusting picture. All she said was “Sorry, I will check with my chef. Then I won’t charge you for this one.”

Oh really? And then what? My disappointment was fuelling up. I just wanted to get out of that place and NEVER come back. Would you?

“This just means your whole kitchen is dirty; not just this dish! If I get food poisoning and that costs me hundreds, are you paying for it?”

“Sorry. I don’t charge you for this one.” she said, still pointing to the clay pot.

We pay good money not just for food, but service and hygiene too. Just a bunch of sorry and no action won’t cut it.

Should you think “C’mmon, no big deal. People in Thailand eat that. It’s extra protein.”, then please be my guest to dine at filthy places and save your comment. I am NOT from Thailand and I have my own source for protein.

Should you know the right party I should report this to, do let me know because I will.

We are what we eat, and more often than not, we eat what these restaurants serve when we are too busy to cook, or simply want to enjoy an evening out. To be responsible and clean is just the fundamental rule a restaurant should have. Not to mention the foreign workers who either don’t understand a word of English, or pretend not to see you when you hail for them . . .

Seriously, you call that running a business?

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