Satay by the Bay closure: Why does S’pore keep losing its iconic satay clubs?
The whole point of being called an icon is that you transcend trends, cultures, generations and time. So why do Singapore’s various incarnations of the iconic Satay Club never seem to last?
And now, why is Satay by the Bay closing down?
From Beach Road to Clarke Quay: a brief history of Singapore’s satay clubs
The original Satay Club dates back to the 1940s, near Beach Road, where it became a popular late-night, post-movie supper spot.
It later moved to the Esplanade in the 1970s and became a popular date spot for couples — rightfully so. But the Satay Club iteration I remember best came in 1995, when it moved to Clarke Quay.
Clarke Quay today is filled with air-conditioned restaurants and bars, with a large open area in the middle where events are held every so often. To one side, there’s even a little water play area where jets shoot directly out of the ground in different patterns.
Now imagine that centre stage replaced by weekly live bands, and those built-up restaurants replaced with open-fire pushcarts selling a variety of food at actually affordable prices. None of these so-called pasar malam or bazaar food stalls charging $15 for a bucket of popcorn chicken slathered in cheese.
My childhood memories of Satay Club at Clarke Quay
My family went for two things: the live music and the satay.
My parents, along with my aunty and uncle, would go rather often from what I remember. We’d make our way through the heat and crowds, weaving past menus being shoved at us and stallholders yelling and beckoning us to order from them.
Touting, of course, isn’t allowed today, but I believe it added to the experience.
We’d stand around waiting until a table opened up because reservations weren’t part of how things worked in this organised chaos.
I was five in 1995, and as a young child, getting to stay up past my bedtime, surrounded by music and adults, was such a treat. It has remained a core memory.
Another family favourite was Elias Park in Pasir Ris. I vividly remember the low tables and chairs littered along the beach. I was just starting primary school and, together with my Tweety Bird wallet, would be tasked with going to order the satay and navigating my way back to our seats — which I would often not be able to find.
Everyone in Singapore seems to have a favourite satay spot
A couple of years ago, for my mother’s 60th birthday, she requested a chalet party and satay.
Perhaps it was because, by that point, satay had become so far removed from my everyday life, but tracking down a place that sold satay for parties was more challenging than I expected.
As I recounted this challenge to other partygoers, many immediately brought up their go-to satay spots from yesteryear.
Before Sembawang Shopping Centre was upgraded, there was a back-alley-style open-air satay spot. Of course, the main contender was — and probably always will be — the satay stalls at East Coast Park, with the caveat: “Good, but very difficult to find seat!”
Unsurprisingly, there was no mention of the satay stalls at Newton or Lau Pa Sat.
Sorry, Crazy Rich Asians.
So where does Singapore’s satay culture go next?
With such strong memories and debates surrounding which satay spot was the best, it came as a real shock that Satay by the Bay will be closing in October, taking away yet another spot for satay lovers.
If I could be so bold as to say it: satay is for the locals, not the tourists.
Bring back more open-air, open-fire, seaside spots. Places where satay makers aren’t cooped up in the back, sweating away in a tiny stall, but get to enjoy some sea breeze and ventilation.
Let satay eaters prove their dedication when the only available seat is upwind from the satay maker and they’re repeatedly engulfed in smoke every time he fans the flames.
That is part of the experience.
Bring back the ‘unglam’ satay spots
We locals want these nostalgic spots that might, by today’s standards, be deemed “unglam”. Not bougie Marina Bay views or slightly inflated CBD prices.
Just good old sand, sea, sugar cane and a random uncle with his ever-so-slightly out-of-tune guitar singing Hotel California to a crowd that absolutely did not ask for it.
I would even take a grimy back-alley Satay Club that only the true fans would brave the humidity for.
Do it for the vibes, I say. Bring back satay for the locals.
Jillian Lim is an ex-radio DJ and current embroiderer, trying it all till something sticks.
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