Jiu Ding @ East Coast Lagoon: An ex-police officer’s second act in dim sum

The man behind the stall

When Jiu Ding’s owner, Louis Tan, 49, told us he used to be a civil servant, we naturally pictured him behind a desk.

You know the image — neatly pressed shirt, paperwork stacked high, answering many emails in an ever-flowing inbox. 

When we met him, we found out he actually used to be a senior investigation officer with the Singapore Police Force. It’s a job he spent almost 27 years at, before he finally called it quits 10 months ago.

His workday used to be extremely unpredictable, as he investigated vice and gambling syndicates. 

“I was faced with new and unexpected challenges each day,” he recalls. “I was always ready to be on the move and adapt to any changes around the clock.”

Now, his workday is very different. You’ll find him steaming baskets of xiao long bao instead of knocking on doors with warrants.

From policeman to hawker

After so many years on the force, Louis tells us that he simply wanted a change of scenery. 

“When you are in the uniformed sector, things are very different compared to other jobs,” Louis reflects. “In the past, I felt that my shoulders were really heavy, carrying so much responsibility.”

The nature of his work meant dealing with crime, vice and the darker side of society.

 “When serving in the force, I saw much darkness in people such as their lies and greed,” he recalls. “As time passed, I missed seeing the good side of humans.” 

Now, the people approaching him come not with anxiety — but appetite.

“In the past, people were not happy seeing me at their HDB unit,” he laughs. “Here, they willingly come to my stall with smiles and are happy to see me!” 

He adds, “Now I get supportive customers and helpful neighbouring hawkers. Life may be simpler, but not any less fulfilling. My blood pressure is thanking me now, too.” 

Setting up Jiu Ding

Unlike many second-career hawkers, Louis did not grow up with any cooking experience in the cuisine he now specialises in.

In fact, he admits he had no formal F&B background. Yet, he took the leap, regardless.

“I always believe that if you never try, you will never know,” he says, optimistically. “Thankfully, I have a supportive wife and friends with experience to guide me.”

Despite inexperience, his love for dim sum runs deep. “Personally I love having dim sum with my family and friends, as it is something we can easily share,” he says. “This is how strong bonds are formed — by sharing good food.” 

That bond also influenced his decision to set up Jiu Ding at East Coast Lagoon Food Village. 

“East Coast Park resonates with why I’m choosing dim sum — bonding. It’s a place where family and friends come to bond and enjoy their day together,” he explains. 

Setting up the East Coast Park outlet wasn’t entirely from scratch. Jiu Ding already had a presence at Newton since 2016, and Louis came on board through one of the partners who was running the original stall. 

The opportunity came when a unit became available at East Coast Lagoon Village. Seeing its potential footfall and the lack of dim sum options there, Louis decided to take the leap. 

With guidance from his partners and shared access to the brand’s products and cooking techniques, he set up the stall in September last year. 

The craft of dim sum

As Louis shares, dim sum may look small and delicate, but he quickly learned it demands precision.

“Every fold, every thickness, and every gramme matters,” he says. “Each piece of dim sum requires precision and it’s never easy to master any of the dishes.” 

Take xiao long bao, for instance. The skin must be thin enough to be delicate, but thick enough to hold the soup. While he obtains the dim sum from the main Jiu Ding, the steaming process is equally critical, with Louis stressing that timing is important.

On average, the dumplings steam for eight to 10 minutes, depending on whether they come from the chiller or freezer. “Oversteam it, and the skin will burst with all the broth spilling out,” notes Louis. 

Pan-fried dumplings, meanwhile, require more hands-on attention. “When steaming xiao long bao, you still can rely on the timer. But for the pan-friend dumplings, you need more time and have to control the fire,” he says. 

Even now, he says he is still learning about the craft of making dim sum. “There is still a lot to learn as there are so many varieties of dim sum. I definitely wish to include more on my menu in future,” he muses.

The menu and our review

Jiu Ding offers the same dim sum line-up as its sister branch in Newton. The signatures are the xiao long bao (S$14 for 10 pieces), as well as the steamed dumplings and pan-friend dumplings (both S$14 for 10). 

Other dim sim classics are the siew mai (available as both chicken or pork, S$6 for four) , as well as the har gao, or prawn dumplings (S$6 for four). 

We began with the xiao long bao, served piping hot in bamboo steamers. The skin was delicate, yet resilient enough to hold the broth — no premature bursting here!

Each bite released a savoury broth that was clean and comforting, with a balanced pork filling that wasn’t overly fatty.

“We have many customers who tell us that our xiao long bao is even better than those in restaurants,” says Louis.

Next came the pan-fried dumplings, which were cooked until the exterior formed a golden, crisp lace. The contrast between the crispy skin and the juicy, pork-filled interior made these particularly satisfying. The skin had enough bite to hold structure, yet wasn’t doughy.

We also tried the steamed dumplings, available in pork with chives or pork with cabbage. The skins were thin yet resilient, holding in the juices without tearing.

We preferred the chives version for its more aromatic, savoury punch, while the cabbage option was milder and slightly sweeter. 

While Louis mentioned that the siew mai and prawn dumplings were not his signatures, we enjoyed them too. We had the pork siew mai, and found it to be juicy, meaty, and flavourful.

I’m a big har gow fan, and I found that Jiu Ding’s version had tasty translucent skin as well as juicy prawns.

The reality of a mid-career switch

While Louis enjoys his current life as a hawker, the job is not without trade-offs. 

“Being a hawker is no bed of roses, there’s no air-con and you have long standing hours and prolonged heat,” he admits. 

He is candid about what he left behind. “Being a hawker means no CPF, no annual leave, no medical benefits, no bonus, and no income when you are sick or on a holiday — but the rental costs are still present,” he says. 

While Louis may have left a stable career behind, he’s gained a whole new kind of experience. 

From carrying the weight of investigations to carrying trays of steaming dumplings, Louis’ second act is filled with a predictable rhythm he enjoys. 

“Each day is predictable now, I know exactly what time to wake up and what time I’ll go home,” he says. “Surrounded by dough, heat from the steamer and greetings from my customers, I’m thankful for where I am now.” 

For more ideas on what to eat, check out our list of must-eats at East Coast Lagoon Food Village and Ah Yu Fried Prawn Noodle Hokkien Mee in the same food centre!