A Taste of Myanmar : Table and Apron Teahouse Upstairs

 

Oct 9 2025

It has been too long since we last ate at Table and Apron, the elegant and popular restaurant on a row of shoplots in Damansara Kim, PJ. I like the food there, the genteel, relaxed atmosphere, and the emphasis on quality and substance over flash and glitz, and the sophistication of well thought-out, well-prepared food presented in an unassuming, unpretentious way.

They had a pop-up “Myanmar Flavours & Stories” in Sept-Oct 2025, on the Teahouse Upstairs, while the regular menu continued to be served downstairs.

It was warmly welcoming upstairs, with the Myanmar staff running the show, and apparently delighted to be showcasing their troubled country’s cuisine. Myanmar isn’t as much a country as an amalgamation of various ethnic tribes with their own languages and culture – over a hundred different dialects, I was informed by the Myanmar staff - locked in a murderous civil war with the central government, along ethnic lines. A country so rich and so riven.

Wooden tables laid out with maroon runners, simple cutlery and a postcard introducing Myanmar and the evening’s menu, drawing on the incredible ethnic and geographic diversity of the country. A Myanmar staff member engaged us, pleasantly surprised that we were no strangers to Myanmar and its cuisine, but the country is vast, and varied, and its cuisine reflects that diversity.

A small plate of starters of Shan (as in Shan state, Myanmar) tofu was presented, rectangular blocks arranged with an accompanying tamarind sauce.  Made of mashed chickpea, the golden blocks were crisp and warmly fluffy when bitten into, the taste enhanced by the sour, sweet tamarind sauce.

An assortment of appetisers followed, reflecting the largely rural environment from which the cuisine is drawn: fresh lush greens, and dominant flavours: sour, sweet, astringent.

Sar Pye Vermicelli Wrap was a mouthful of fresh lettuce with sliced ox tongue, herbs and a beef sauce, in spirit not unlike the beef dishes encountered in rural parts of northern Thailand, with its own twist, the ox tongue adding a cheeky take, the herbs giving a lift to what might otherwise have been bland.

The Hin Htote pork pate was a little more subdued than the ingredients would suggest : thinly sliced pork belly, galangal and kaffir lime leaves – the sort of dish you might pause mid-bite if you didn’t know what they contained.  The Lahpet Thoke Tea fermented leaf salad was somewhat astringent, best eaten in small portions with white rice, but intriguing flavour, nevertheless.  

The plain, brown Kachin Hin Cho Mountain Soup  of fish broth with herbs looked a little offputting, but tasted better than it looked, being peppery and not at all fishy. 

The delightfully imaginative Whet Naywet Thoke Pig’s Ear Salad with thin slices of crunchy pig’s ear, with a counterpoint of tamarind paste and cucumber.  

The mains, to be consumed with rice, arrived together, for sharing and eating communally, Asian style. The Ngapi crudite and dip was familiar from its counterparts elsewhere in Asia, from Thailand, to Vietnam to Malaysia. The dip was belacan, a soothing contrast to the stomach-churning, fiery chili pastes encountered in Malay and Indonesian ulams.

Ngapi was a balance to the heavier meat dishes, the main Wet Thar Chin Paung Hin Pork belly Curry being a Myanmar version of curry, fragrant with herbs, sharp and sour from green mango slices, with roselle leaves and bamboo shoots in a savoury, thick sauce with chunks of belly pork. The flavour was more rustic than you would encounter in a Thai curry, and compelling enough to commandeer several bowls of rice, with meaty pork belly chunks well soaked in curry.

I could imagine eating the meal in a rustic restaurant in Myanmar somewhere, the dark, cool night outside. It was a reminder of what a curry can mean in a different context, eaten with rice, garnished with Balachaung, a dried shrimp, anchovies, garlic and chili condiment.

The accompanying Nga Soke Lone Hin, a fish kofta of mackerel, offset by a brown paste, pea eggplant and belimbing buluh, was quite delightful and possibly my favourite as a supporting second dish to the pork curry. It was a showcase of the complex flavours that can be achieved with simple ingredients.

Finally, the European inspired Roasted Rice Ice Cream, served with cooked mashed banana, ago, puffed rice, and sago, coconut milk poured over, was richly luxurious and completed the meal.

I liked the raw authenticity, the flavours that suggested the rural roots, of fresh country produce, the mix of flavours and tastes drawn from various parts of the country, all hinting at the richness of the underlying cultures and lifestyles, now under the constant siege of internecine warfare.

It brought a warmth, of the people and their lifestyles lived in the countryside, and made real. Beneath these simple, heartwarming dishes, were people like you and me, harvesting the fresh produce of the land, to produce a meal enjoyed with family and loved ones.