People’s Park Complex, Chinatown, Singapore
HOW TO GET THERE
Tiantai Hotpot occupies a deliberately unassuming position on the sixth floor of People’s Park Complex, roughly a two-minute walk from Chinatown MRT Station. The route is deceptively simple but easy to miss on your first visit: enter the complex, locate the staircase that climbs to the sixth floor, and exit the building once you reach the top. From there, walk straight ahead and you will find the restaurant nestled in a corner — partially sheltered, partially open to the sky. The word “rooftop” is used loosely here; it is less a sky terrace and more an elevated annexe carved out of the building’s uppermost edge, which only adds to its character.
AMBIENCE
The space seats fifty and carries an industrial aesthetic that feels genuinely considered rather than trend-chasing. Concrete walls, raw surfaces, and utilitarian fixtures form the visual backbone of the room. There are no sweeping neon signs or polished brass fixtures you would find at big-name hotpot chains like Haidilao. Instead, the mood is closer to a well-worn workshop: honest, unpretentious, and quietly atmospheric.
Because it sits above the surrounding streetscape, there is an unusual sense of removal from the noise of Chinatown below. The combination of open air, concrete, and the low hum of boiling broth creates a sensory environment that is hard to replicate indoors. Arriving at opening hour, the space is calm and unhurried; by midday, groups begin filling the tables, and a convivial energy builds without ever tipping into the chaotic. The fact that it operates until midnight makes it equally compelling as a late-night supper destination — the low light and warm steam carry a different, more intimate quality after dark.
THE BROTH — RECIPE, COOKING PHILOSOPHY, AND FOOD SCIENCE
The menu offers three broth options: Spicy Red Oil, Mushroom, and Tomato. You may order either an Individual Hotpot or a Yin Yang Hotpot, the latter allowing two broths to share the same divided vessel.
Mushroom Broth
This is the standout. It arrives as a deep amber-brown liquid with a surface that shimmers faintly with rendered oils. The colour sits somewhere between dark tea and dried shiitake — a warm, earthy umber. On the nose, it is immediately herbaceous, with a background suggestion of dried fungus and something almost medicinal in the best possible sense, reminiscent of a slow-simmered Chinese herbal tonic.
On the palate, the depth is remarkable for its price point. The dominant flavour driver here is glutamate — specifically the free glutamic acid that leaches from dried shiitake mushrooms during prolonged simmering. Shiitake are among the richest natural sources of glutamates in the plant kingdom, and when combined with the guanylate compounds that also release from dried fungus, they produce a synergistic umami effect that is significantly more intense than either compound alone. This is the same chemical logic that underlies the pairing of kombu and bonito in Japanese dashi: combining glutamate-rich and nucleotide-rich ingredients multiplies perceived umami up to eightfold. The mushroom broth at Tiantai appears to exploit this principle whether by design or accumulated kitchen intuition.
There is also a faint, almost smoky sweetness that develops further as the meal progresses and ingredients are cooked through it — a function of the Maillard reaction occurring at the broth’s surface and along the inner wall of the heated vessel, where sugars from the mushroom soaking liquid caramelise under sustained heat.
To approximate this at home: rehydrate a combination of dried shiitake, porcini, and wood ear mushrooms in cold water for at least four hours. Sweat sliced fresh mushrooms — king oyster and enoki work well — in a neutral oil with ginger and white peppercorns. Add the strained soaking liquid, top with light stock, and simmer low for ninety minutes. The result will carry that same earthy, layered complexity.
Tomato Broth
By contrast, the tomato broth is lighter in both colour and character — a translucent brick-red, closer to a diluted passata than a concentrated bisque. It is sweet and gently tangy, pleasant in isolation but noticeably thinner in body when tasted alongside the mushroom. The acidity comes primarily from citric and malic acids naturally present in the tomato, which provide a useful counterpoint for fatty proteins and work well with delicate fish. The broth’s weakness is structural: a lack of collagen or starch-derived viscosity leaves it watery on the palate. It would benefit from a longer reduction or the addition of dried scallop to bolster its glutamate base.
IN-DEPTH DISH ANALYSIS
Lucky Little Sausage ($9 for 11 pieces)
These wind-cured sausages arrive long and slender, their casings slightly wrinkled and glistening with rendered fat. The colour is a deep, burnished mahogany — the kind of hue that suggests long exposure to air and time rather than heat. Curing is the operative process here. Wind-curing draws moisture from the meat over days or weeks through a combination of salt, sugar, alcohol (typically Shaoxing wine or rose spirit), and air circulation. As water activity drops, the proteins contract and the fat consolidates, producing the characteristic dense, chewy texture that defines this category of cured pork.
In texture, they sit squarely in the territory of lap cheong: firm, with a chew that resists briefly before yielding. The dryness at the surface gives way to a fatty, savory interior. The flavour profile reflects the chemistry of curing: salt suppresses water activity and enhances perceived sweetness from residual sugars; the low pH environment generated by fermentative bacteria during curing develops a faint, pleasant tang; and the Maillard products formed during the drying phase contribute the deep, roasted-meaty notes you detect on the back palate.
Brief immersion in the boiling mushroom broth softens the casing and draws out the fat, which then enriches the surrounding soup — a textbook example of fat-soluble flavour compounds migrating into an aqueous medium under heat.
Sole Fish Slices ($3)
An exceptional value proposition. The slices are cut thick — roughly half a centimetre — and display the pale, almost luminescent white of fresh flatfish. Sole belongs to the order Pleuronectiformes, a group of flatfish characterised by white muscle tissue with very low myoglobin content, which accounts for the near-colourless flesh. The muscle fibres are arranged in short, lateral flakes separated by thin sheets of connective tissue — a structure that, when cooked properly, separates cleanly along the flake lines without disintegrating entirely, which is what you observe here.
In the broth they hold their structure admirably. This is partly a function of cut thickness — thinner slices expose more surface area relative to volume, accelerating protein denaturation and flake separation — and partly a function of freshness. Fresh fish retains the structural integrity of its connective tissue far longer than fish that has been previously frozen and thawed, where ice crystal formation ruptures cell walls and weakens the inter-flake collagen. The texture upon eating is tender but with perceptible resistance: a clean, firm bite. In the mushroom base, the fish absorbs the broth’s umami character while contributing its own subtle sweetness — the result of free amino acids, particularly glycine and alanine, which are naturally present in flatfish muscle.
Spain Black Pig Streaky Pork ($20)
The weakest item ordered. The slices are pale pink, well-marbled in appearance, and carry the visual promise of their pedigree. Spain Black Pig — a loosely applied term that gestures toward the Ibérico breed — is prized for its unique fat composition: a high proportion of oleic acid (the same monounsaturated fatty acid dominant in olive oil), which gives properly raised and processed Ibérico pork a silky, low-melting-point fat that dissolves on the tongue at near body temperature.
In practice, the execution here does not deliver on that promise. The texture after cooking is tighter than expected — chewy in a way that suggests either slicing that is too thick for rapid heat penetration, or meat that was not sufficiently cold at the time of cutting, which would cause the muscle fibres to tear rather than shear cleanly. The fat does not render into the silky, collapsing quality you hope for. This may also be a sourcing issue: the term “Spain Black Pig” does not guarantee purebred Ibérico, and crossbred animals or those not finished on acorns (bellota) will have a significantly different fat profile. At $20, the portion does not justify the spend.
Flat Noodles ($6 for two plates)
A high point to close the savoury courses. These broad noodles arrive ivory-white and raw, with a slight translucency characteristic of wheat-based dough with moderate hydration. The gluten network in these noodles is evidently well-developed: the springy, elastic chew that you encounter after a brief ninety-second cook is a direct expression of glutenin and gliadin proteins forming long, cross-linked polymer chains during the kneading process. A tighter gluten network produces noodles with more elasticity and resistance; a looser one produces softer, more yielding textures.
The textural window here is narrow. Overcook by even a minute and the noodles absorb excess water, the starch granules continue to swell and rupture, and the gelatinised starch leaches into the surrounding liquid — leaving the noodles soft, gummy, and structurally collapsed. This is not a failure of the ingredient but of timing, and the lesson is straightforward: pull them early.
As the noodles cook, they take on the colour of the broth — the amber of mushroom soup, or the brick-red blush of tomato — which also signals the starch gelatinisation process visually. The flavour contribution is mild and neutral, functioning primarily as a textural anchor and a vehicle for the surrounding broth.
Vegetables — Pumpkin, Napa Cabbage, Baby Cabbage, Potato, Cilantro
The pumpkin deserves particular mention. Cubed and pale orange, its colour comes from beta-carotene, a fat-soluble pigment that is stable under the mild heat of simmering broth. As it cooks, the pectin chains holding its cell walls together gradually break down under heat and the mildly acidic conditions of the tomato broth, producing a yielding, almost custard-like softness while the interior retains enough structural starch to hold its shape. The natural sweetness intensifies as cooking concentrates its sugars.
Napa cabbage is structurally straightforward but functionally important in the context of a long hotpot meal. Its high water content — roughly 95% — means it releases significant liquid as it cooks, gently diluting and sweetening the broth over time. This is a useful self-regulating mechanism: as salt concentration in the broth builds from successive ingredients, the cabbage provides continuous dilution. The chlorophyll in its green leaf margins will dull from bright green to olive as the magnesium ion at the centre of the chlorophyll molecule is displaced by hydrogen under heat and mild acidity — a visual cue that the leaves are fully cooked.
Cilantro is the most volatile of the vegetables ordered. Its characteristic flavour compounds — primarily aldehydes in the C9–C12 range — are highly sensitive to heat and will dissipate rapidly in boiling broth. Adding it late, or simply as a garnish on a dipping sauce rather than cooking it directly, preserves far more of its aromatic character.
Brown Sugar Ice Jelly ($1)
The jelly is set with a hydrocolloid — most likely agar derived from red algae, which is standard in East and Southeast Asian applications of this kind. Unlike gelatin, which is protein-based and melts near body temperature, agar sets at a higher temperature and maintains structural integrity in warmer conditions — a practical advantage in a hot, steamy environment like a hotpot restaurant. The texture is near-translucent and trembles at the lightest pressure, a function of low gelling agent concentration relative to water content. The result sits between silken tofu and a very delicate panna cotta in terms of structural resistance. The brown sugar syrup provides a clean, caramel-forward sweetness derived from the partial inversion of sucrose and the Maillard products formed during the open-pan reduction of raw sugar. It is light, cooling, and structurally precise for its price.
THE DIPPING SAUCE STATION
Each diner pays $2 for unlimited access to a central condiment station stocked with minced garlic, peanut sauce, chopped red chilli, sesame oil, and vinegar. The display is modest compared to higher-end establishments, but the fundamentals are sound. A base of peanut sauce with sesame oil, minced garlic, and a small quantity of vinegar produces a well-rounded dip that works across nearly every ingredient. The peanut paste contributes fat and protein-derived umami; the sesame oil adds aromatic fat-soluble compounds that volatilise on the palate; the garlic contributes allicin-derived pungency; and the vinegar provides acid balance. The architecture is classically Sichuan in logic, even if the station lacks the refinement of a fully appointed condiment bar.
OVERALL ASSESSMENT
Tiantai Hotpot earns its reputation through coherence rather than spectacle. The mushroom broth alone justifies a visit — it is one of the more carefully constructed soup bases available at this price point in Singapore, and the food science underpinning its flavour depth is sound. The sole fish and flat noodles are both quietly excellent. The pork disappoints, and the tomato broth needs structural work. At roughly $26 per person all-in, with a kitchen open until midnight, it occupies a rare position: a genuinely atmospheric, affordable, and well-executed hotpot experience in the heart of Chinatown. The rooftop setting, industrial aesthetic, and nett pricing round out a package that is difficult to fault at this level of spend.
Address: 1 Park Road, #06-01/02, People’s Park Complex, Singapore 059108 Hours: Daily, 11:30am – 12:00am Note: Not halal-certified.