Before the Covid-19 pandemic, Samraj Ahsockan ran a thriving pasar malam food stall chain called Mr Vadai. It sells its namesake vadai, the classic Indian fried fritter. “Our pasar malam presence was very strong. We had five to six outlets,” the 60-year-old tells 8days.sg.

Then the coronavirus struck, and roving pasar malams faded quietly into the night. But Samraj is already ahead of his game. In 2019, way before the pandemic, he and his daughter Logeswaari Ahsockan, 32, had set up a small permanent shop selling their signature vadais and biryani. Called YehYeh’s Cafe, it’s located in Changi Road.

The cafe did well enough for Samraj and Loges to open a second outlet on March 5 this year, this time a hawker unit at Tin Yeang Restaurant, the kopitiam that also houses the famed Mr and Mrs Mohgan’s Super Crispy Prata stall.

The new stall doesn’t offer biryani, but it has Mr Vadai’s full range of flavours, including Prawn, Ikan Bilis, Chilli, Veggie and Plain ($1.20 each). There’s a mod Mini Quail Egg Vadai (10 for $4), and the denser, smaller Paruppu Vadai (chickpea fritter, four for $3).

Samraj claims to be the pioneer of mini vadais, which he created during his pasar malam days “so people can walk and eat them at the same time”. With his towering height and flashy gold Rolex watch, he cuts a striking figure.

Describing himself as someone who “wasn’t shy”, he started his food-selling career at 10 years old. “My mum used to make curry puffs, and I sold them to my friends at our football games after school. So I had a lot of experience with public speaking!” he guffaws.

Samraj then started a pasar malam vadai stall with his sister, Jamuna Rani. The siblings ran it together for two decades before they decided to go their own way in the ’80s. “We have our own families, so we decided to separate lah, to give our children a chance to [take over] our businesses,” Samraj explains.

He created the Mr Vadai brand, while Jamuna opened the just-as-popular The Original Vadai, which currently has two outlets in Joo Chiat and Golden Mile Food Centre. The duo have also handed their stalls over to their kids; Samraj’s daughter Loges took over Mr Vadai in 2007, while Jamuna’s son Stephen Suriyah (pictured with his mum) has been running The Original Vadai since 2009.

Photo: The Original Vadai's Facebook

Sweet-faced second-gen boss Loges tells us that she has worked in her family’s business all her life. “We want to focus on authentic Indian food through the generations. People really look for our vadai. It’s a dying product and we give it life, so we’re motivated by this,” she shares. She plans to launch classes teaching people how to make vadai.

Her husband Saravanan Ganesan (pictured above), 45, now makes the fritters at Mr Vadai’s new outlet. He deftly lifts a handful of goopy batter, shapes it and drops it swiftly into boiling oil, where it fluffs into beautifully-formed discs.

It’s a skill that’s much harder than it looks. “You have to train for at least five or six months before you can even hold the vadai,” says Loges. Samraj concurs, adding: “You can’t just throw [the batter into the oil]. There’s a way to take it in your hands, which must be seasoned so the flour doesn’t stick to them.”

The trick, he says, is to have batter that’s “not too diluted”. He guards his proprietary “non-oily” vadai recipe closely, only letting on that it contains “coriander, onions and other ingredients”.

Unlike olden-day hawkers, who eyeball the ingredients they use through sheer experience and instinct, Samraj proudly asserts that he has a formula to keep his vadais consistent even when they’re made by different people. He says, “The recipe is measured precisely and calculated to be 100% the same at every outlet. Like KFC!”​​​​​​​

Which is why he has grand plans to turn Mr Vadai into a big franchise chain. “We’ve applied for the franchising trademark, and we’re looking for franchisees to open five or six outlets,” says Samraj, who intends to set up the outlets islandwide. “We’re modernising this, same like Old Chang Kee.” He’s also in the process of applying for halal certification for his new Joo Chiat stall.

Like the Chinese hei piah, this vadai is studded with a single plump farmed prawn. According to Loges, the stall uses “wild sea prawns for bulk orders”.

Freshly fried in vegetable oil and served a la minute, the vadai is tasty enough for us to shamelessly inhale several in one sitting. Each puffy fritter boasts a delicately crispy crust with a soft, fluffy centre, punctuated with umami bursts of crustacean juices from the sweet, crunchy prawn.

It’s also not too greasy, which makes this dangerously easy to keep popping. But we like nibbling on the vadais along with the raw, large green chillies that are served with the fritters. The feisty chilli packs addictive heat that cuts the mild oiliness of the fried dough.

There’s currently an opening promotion till April at the new outlet, where you can get six prawn vadais for $5.

Another Mr Vadai signature, this ikan bilis version is just as good as the prawn. The anchovies are dried and fried in-house, and liberally scattered into the batter. Each bite of our pillowy vadai yields several crunchy, lightly-salted ikan bilis. Madly good with raw chilli.

Loges created this mod vadai for her young son who likes quail eggs. Instead of a disc, the fried dough is shaped into a ball enveloping half a quail egg. It’s like a savoury Kinder Surprise treat — we can see why kids adore the simple, yummy fried dough-and-egg combo, but we personally prefer the classic ‘grown-up’ prawn and ikan bilis flavours, which offer an expertly-paired mélange of flavours and textures.

Unless you really hate prawns, ikan bilis or quail eggs, we don’t recommend going for the plain vadai here, even though it’s respectably velvety and moreish. The fried fritter is best enjoyed with an assortment of savoury ingredients.

We aren’t big fans of chickpea, but we find ourselves cramming a few of this into our gob. Unlike the fluffy vadai, which is made with an aerated, smooth batter, the Paruppu Vadai (paruppu means ‘pulses’ in English, the main ingredient of the vadai) is made from chana dal, de-husked brown chickpeas that are coarsely grounded and shaped into large coins.
It has a brittle, craggier texture that’s just as lovely, with a refreshingly nutty, earthy flavour.

The stall also sells fried chicken and offal skewers, which are decent and make for a hearty side to your fritter order. But it is the vadai here that we are going to tapow home in big bags.