Saying Farewell To Lim’s Fried Oyster, The Best Orh Luak Stall In SG

Lim’s Fried Oyster is set to close in August 2025

Here’s the sad truth: we’ll have to bid farewell to our favourite stalls sooner rather than later. Many hawkers are in the twilight of their careers, and with no successors in sight, the dishes that have brought us so much joy over the years are on the verge of becoming history.

I heard through the grapevine that the owners of Lim’s Fried Oyster are set to retire this year. As you’d expect, I was aghast. One of the oldest and most famous orh luak stalls in Singapore—featured in countless “best of” lists—is about to be gone for good, leaving us with mere months to savour those plump oysters and crispy yet gooey omelette.

But for a name as legendary as Lim’s, just getting that one last taste isn’t enough of a sendoff in my book. Perhaps the most fitting way to say goodbye would be to write a tribute of sorts. To do that, I wanted to learn what I could from the owners themselves, so I dropped by the Berseh Food Centre stall right as it was about to open on a Friday evening.

I had clearly underestimated Lim’s popularity—barely moments after opening, Mr and Mrs Lim were already hard at work, dishing out plates of oyster omelette. “Uncle is too busy to talk, I think never mind la,” said Mrs Lim as my hopes for getting an interview were seemingly dashed. All I could do was order that last plate of orh luak and walk back to my table with slumped shoulders.

That would’ve been the end of this article if it weren’t for Mrs Lim, who generously offered to speak in her husband’s stead.

First things first: is Lim’s Fried Oyster really going to shut down this year? “Yes, that’s the plan,” Mrs Lim confirmed. “The hawker centre closes in August, so unless there’s a change, that’s when we will retire.”

That will bring to an end a business that’s over 60 years old. To put that into perspective, the Lims have been making oyster omelettes since before hawker centres existed.

“When Uncle was nine, he was already helping his father with his pushcart business along Sam Leon Road,” noted Mrs Lim. “He sold orh luak because, well, he was a Teochew man, and orh luak is a Teochew snack.”

“He sold orh luak because, well, he was a Teochew man, and orh luak is a Teochew snack.”

Mr Lim continued being a pushcart hawker till he was enlisted into the military at 16 years of age. That was also around the time Mrs Lim started dating Mr Lim. “He was just an army boy back then,” she said bashfully. “After we paktor (dated) for a few years, in 1977, he moved the business to this hawker centre. I’ve been helping him ever since.”

I thought Mrs Lim deserved praise for her longstanding contributions to the stall, but during our conversation, she was entirely focused on highlighting Mr Lim’s genius. “He’s amazing, he’s always thinking of how to make the dish more delicious,” said Mrs Lim.

One way that Mr Lim improved upon his father’s recipe was to use oysters specifically imported from Jeju Island in South Korea. “When you tried our orh luak, you notice the oysters are very plump, very fat, right?” asked Mrs Lim. She was right. “They are also fresher, without the fishy smell.”

Mrs Lim also mentioned an innovation that oldheads will be familiar with: the “wet” orh huak, also known as 唐山炒 (tang shan chao). The story goes that Mr Lim created this dish so that older folks—who tend to have weaker or no teeth, bless them—can chew through the usually crispy dish. The result was a dish that leaned far more towards the gooier side of things.

Mr Lim stopped making the dish in recent years—juggling both dry and wet versions simply became too tedious. But that doesn’t mean Mr Lim’s efforts have let up. “He always insists on making everything himself, even though it’s tiring to do so,” said Mrs Lim.

“He always insists on making everything himself, even though it’s tiring to do so.”

This do-it-all attitude extends to their housemade chilli—a remarkable blend of sambal belacan, garlic, and hae bee hiam that I found delightfully piquant and tart. Mrs Lim mentioned that her husband never once asked her to help with the chilli.

Mrs Lim’s admiration for her husband left a deep impression on me. What I thought was going to be a story of tradition and legacy revealed itself to be one of love—of a man’s love for his dish, and a woman’s unwavering love for him. Perhaps there is no bigger fan of Lim’s Fried Oyster than Mrs Lim herself.

But what about the rest of us fans? “We worked so long, and only decided to retire now, because we couldn’t bear to stop for our customers. We watched so many of them grow old,” Mrs Lim explained. “Making orh luak is quite an emotional thing for us.”

“Making orh luak is quite an emotional thing for us.”

The Lims will miss their customers—there’s no doubt about that. And yet their stall’s impending closure means the couple can finally kick back and relax after decades of hard work. Or as Mrs Lim put it, they can “go walk walk, go eat eat, and have more arguments”. You know, things couples do when they aren’t busy running the best orh luak stall in Singapore.

So to Lim’s Fried Oyster, we say farewell, and thank you for the incredible food you’ve served up over the years.

For a story of a 73-year-old uncle who has been selling $2 chicken rice since 1996, read our Fook Seng GoldenHill Chicken Rice feature. For a story of a Chinese hawker running a popular Italian stall with 50+ Dishes, read our Il Piccolo Pizzeria feature.

Address: 166 Jalan Besar, #B1-32, Berseh Food Centre, Singapore 208877
Opening hours: Wed-Sun 6pm to 12am (check Facebook for updates)
Website
Lim’s Fried Oyster is not a halal-certified eatery.

Photos taken by Marcus Neo.
This was an independent feature by Eatbook.sg.