It began with simple meals between photo shoots. There was no grand plan, just good ingredients and instincts. Andy’s first ‘customers’? Not critics or paying diners, but his team at his photography studio. “The first dish I remember cooking for them was hong siew pork (braised pork belly),” Andy recalls. “Everyone raved about it and that gave me the confidence to keep cooking.” But how did he go from dishing out delights for his crew to becoming a restaurateur?
The ramen experiment
It began almost by accident. A friend who ran Hachiban Ramen in 1 Utama had taken over a coffee shop in PJ’s Section 8, serving lam mee and kai see hor fun (shredded chicken with rice noodles). Two weeks in, the friend wanted out. Andy bought over the business. Four Nepalese staff came with the deal.
The food, however, was forgettable. “The ingredients were just bad,” Andy recalls. But instead of walking away, he improved the produce, refined the flavours, and slowly grew daily sales from a few hundred ringgit to RM1,500 on average.
About a year later, the original Hachiban Ramen outlet came up for sale. Andy bought it and moved operations to the mall. With just four dishes on the menu and at RM8.80 each, the response was overwhelming. “It exploded,” Andy remembers. “Day one was packed!”
Building flavour and ambition
The momentum kept building up, so much so, Andy had to open an industrial kitchen in Sungai Buloh. He also expanded the menu, and launched new branches. Throughout it all, he never stopped trying new things.
His classroom? YouTube. “I don’t follow chefs so much,” he says. “I’m more interested in food critics. I want to know what people like, how food taste to them.” Technique can be learned, he reasons, but flavour must be savoured to be understood.
Eventually, Andy began experimenting with omakase. He started offering it around 2018, at just RM80 per person.
There was no menu. “As long as people are willing to trust me, I can cook.” The no-holds-barred concept aligns completely with Andy’s personality, letting him flex his creativity. While his cooking is fundamentally Chinese, he enjoys fusing elements of Japanese, Thai, Szechuan, and Western cuisines.
Andy’s photography roots also shine through his culinary creations. Just as his lighting once set his photos apart, his ingredient choices elevate his dishes. He avoids MSG, oyster sauce and chicken powder; besides sea salt, he prefers the depth of flavour he coaxes out of ingredients such as salted vegetables, dried seafood, and preserved roots.
“The best produce doesn’t need much tweaking,” he says. “Look at Japanese cuisine. They keep things pure so they don’t spoil what nature has crafted so perfectly.”
Andy sources ingredients directly where possible. He was among the first in Malaysia to request Thai Megachef sauce from a local restaurant, and did the same with a premium Vietnamese fish sauce.
No recipes, no problem
In Andy’s kitchen, there are no written recipes. Everything lives in his head, and his team is trained to match his instinctive style. “There’s no point writing things down, I’m always tweaking and refining,” he explains.
The most important thing, he says, is to understand the ingredients so you know how to bring out their best. Take beef for example. Andy doesn’t eat beef but that doesn’t stop him from dishing out what has become a firm favourite among regulars: tomahawk grilled in a charcoal oven. A current obsession? Fresh horseradish. After watching an Italian chef grate it over steak, he paid over RM400 for a box and figured out how to store the pungent root vegetable for a month without spoilage.
Cost is never the focus. For Andy, every new ingredient is a chance to learn. When diners book his omakase and are willing to spend, he gets excited — not for the profit margins but because it gives him a wider playing field. Ultimately, diners are the ones who benefit from it as they get to savour his exquisite creations.
In Andy’s kitchen, there are no written recipes. Everything lives in his head…
No shortcuts, no limits
Andy’s omakase now ranks among the city’s most talked-about, yet he still doesn’t see himself as a “proper” chef as he was never formally trained. Those who have followed his journey thus far will attest that few can match his range but Andy maintains the same philosophy: “Every time someone orders your food, they’re giving you an opportunity…don’t mess it up.”
This was the same mindset that took him from photography school in Tokyo to fashion campaigns across Asia and now, to running one of Petaling Jaya’s most sought-after dining experiences, Xip Wah Lau. From the lens to the wok, Andy has always had one rule: if you’re going to do something, do it with heart.
