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Kacang Puteh Man Says He Had To Borrow Money From Dad To Tide Over Pandemic
“No business, how? Makan, rent, everything. I take the money, makan,” the father-of-two tells 8days.sg.
Those from an era without Gold Class cinema seats would remember the old-school kacang puteh man. The seller is usually parked with his cart outside standalone cinemas, peddling a selection of crunchy nuts and tidbits to movie-goers. But with the popularity of mall cinemas and trendier Western snacks like popcorn and nachos, kacang puteh sellers have gradually faded into the night.
He offers around 20 types of flavoured nuts and murukku (Indian fried rice flour crisps), charging about $1.30 to $2 a portion. Upon ordering, he scoops the goodies from neatly-arranged glass bottles into a cone made from recycled paper, deftly folds the top and hands it to his customer. A portable electric cooker holds steamed peanuts and chickpeas.
Emblazoned on the side of his cart is a photo of Moorthy and his father, himself a retired kacang puteh seller, and the tagline: “Nostalgic Taste in Modern Society”.
When he was allowed to resume his business, Moorthy had a drastic drop in customers as most people in the surrounding office buildings were working from home. “Every day I open, but two years no business. Very very difficult,” the Chennai-born tells 8days.sg in his colloquial English.
Despite his drop in income, he still retains a kampong-style payment system with his customers, allowing them to pay him another time if they didn’t have enough cash. He murmurs “oh!” in surprise when a girl approaches him, hands him a few coins and says “for yesterday”.
During our chat, he remembers that it’s time to check the day’s 4D results. Whipping out an old model smartphone, he scrolls hopefully, grimacing when we ask if he struck any numbers.
The married father-of-two has a 25-year-old daughter who works in nursing, and a 20-year-old son in hotel management. As for whether they would follow in his footsteps, Moorthy shrugs and says: “See how ah.”
Find Moorthy’s kacang puteh cart outside Peace Centre, 1 Sophia Rd, S228161. Tel: 9740-6070 (for advance orders). Open daily except Sun, 10am-8pm.
Photos: Yip Jieying
“No business, how? Makan, rent, everything. I take the money, makan,” the father-of-two tells 8days.sg.
Those from an era without Gold Class cinema seats would remember the old-school kacang puteh man. The seller is usually parked with his cart outside standalone cinemas, peddling a selection of crunchy nuts and tidbits to movie-goers. But with the popularity of mall cinemas and trendier Western snacks like popcorn and nachos, kacang puteh sellers have gradually faded into the night.
Kacang puteh man
Amirthaalangaram Moorthy, 54, is one of the few kacang puteh men still plying his trade in Singapore. His cart outside Peace Centre occupies just a tiny sliver of demarcated space at the entrance, for which he pays $600 a month to rent.He offers around 20 types of flavoured nuts and murukku (Indian fried rice flour crisps), charging about $1.30 to $2 a portion. Upon ordering, he scoops the goodies from neatly-arranged glass bottles into a cone made from recycled paper, deftly folds the top and hands it to his customer. A portable electric cooker holds steamed peanuts and chickpeas.
Emblazoned on the side of his cart is a photo of Moorthy and his father, himself a retired kacang puteh seller, and the tagline: “Nostalgic Taste in Modern Society”.
“Very very difficult” for the past two years
But for the past two years, Moorthy has struggled to make a living due to the Covid-19 pandemic. During the circuit breaker in 2020, he couldn’t operate his cart for two months.When he was allowed to resume his business, Moorthy had a drastic drop in customers as most people in the surrounding office buildings were working from home. “Every day I open, but two years no business. Very very difficult,” the Chennai-born tells 8days.sg in his colloquial English.
Borrowed money from father
As he had to support himself and his family, Moorthy says he had to “borrow money from my father [to] makan”. His father sold off a house in India and lent the proceeds to his son. “He sell and send money here. No choice lah, if not how to makan?” sighs Moorthy. “No business, how? Makan, rent, everything. This place is $600. I take the money, makan.”Business now “okay” but not back to normal
These days he sees an increase in footfall, but reckons that business is still not back to normal. “Business now okay lah, slowly. Past two years very bad. Nobody come,” he says. Eveningtime is when he gets more customers as they get peckish for a snack after work. “But 11am that time, very quiet,” says Moorthy.Despite his drop in income, he still retains a kampong-style payment system with his customers, allowing them to pay him another time if they didn’t have enough cash. He murmurs “oh!” in surprise when a girl approaches him, hands him a few coins and says “for yesterday”.
During our chat, he remembers that it’s time to check the day’s 4D results. Whipping out an old model smartphone, he scrolls hopefully, grimacing when we ask if he struck any numbers.
“Parties, weddings, we do everything”
Moorthy took over the cart from his father in 2004 as a third-generation kacang puteh man. His grandfather had started the business some 50 years ago in India, and later migrated to Singapore where he continued selling kacang puteh at Balestier’s Hoover Theatre. “Parties, weddings, we do everything,” says Moorthy proudly.The married father-of-two has a 25-year-old daughter who works in nursing, and a 20-year-old son in hotel management. As for whether they would follow in his footsteps, Moorthy shrugs and says: “See how ah.”
Find Moorthy’s kacang puteh cart outside Peace Centre, 1 Sophia Rd, S228161. Tel: 9740-6070 (for advance orders). Open daily except Sun, 10am-8pm.
Photos: Yip Jieying