The hype is real: Pince & Pints is a triumph for the simple approach to dining

COCONUTS CRITIC’S TABLE—In today’s multi-media, multi-tasking world where we are bombarded by tastes, sensations and experiences from a million directions at once, the idea of focusing on doing just one thing and doing it well seems slightly outdated. But that’s just what the people behind Pince and Pints believe, this place is about one thing and one thing alone, the King of Crustaceans, the not so humble lobster.

The brainchild of local fashion entrepreneur Frederick Yap, it’s supposedly modelled on the famous London eatery Burger & Lobster. Yet this restaurant narrows the focus even further, discarding the burgers to concentrate on a lobster-only menu that features just three dishes: whole lobster (grilled or steamed), lobster roll and lobster with chili sauce. Surely it could never work?

There are certain places that hit a nerve, manage to capture the moment and reap the dividends. So it proved with Pince and Pints when it first opened in June. The combination of a simple, and oh so focused menu, and a frankly stunning marketing campaign saw this shophouse venue in the heart of nightlife mecca Duxton Hill take the Singapore dining scene by storm. Throw in a no booking policy to boot, and bingo, the city’s foodies were driven into a deranged feeding frenzy that reached almost unprecedented heights. Epic two hour queues were the norm as everyone and anyone descended on the restaurant, driven by an unquenchable lust to post that oh so smug Instagram picture of a plate of, well, lobster.

With all this in mind we must admit to being a little disappointed when we discovered that we only had to hang around for a measly 30 minutes on our last visit—where’s the fun in that? Especially as this humble reviewer wasn’t even there but stuck on a bus experiencing the joys of a Wednesday night rush hour.  It meant that by the time I did arrive my fellow diner had already lined us up for the next available table, and I barely had time to take a swig of my bottle of Asahi ($9) before we were ushered to our table by one of the talented and seamlessly professional staff. Clearly this lot have earned their spurs, trained to a tee in the ninja arts of queue control.

To be fair, they’ve also got a lot better at managing expectations as well. While there is still no option to book one of the limited number of tables (this place has just 46 seats) for a certain time, those in the know can sneak out of the office at 5pm to pre-register. They will then get a call when a table becomes available, which allows you to enjoy a few drinks at one of the numerous options on this busy street before getting to sample the food.

However, this seems less of a problem on a Wednesday night, so rather sooner than expected, we got to experience what the fuss was all about. Despite all the media coverage, Pince and Print does still have the ability to surprise. Split over two shophouses it’s actually larger than first imagined. You enter through a pretty tight space, with small tables flanking one wall, a large chrome bar flanking the other and a rather steamy looking kitchen visible through the glass window at one end.

Yet, there’s more, head around the corner and you’ll find another dining area that feels a little more roomy, despite the closely packed tables. In both sections vibrant posters, all related in some way to the King of Crustaceans, adorn the walls. Throw in red leather seating and a couple of fish tanks (thankfully lobster free) and the overall feeling is akin to a mid-range American diner, that might, just might be found on the Maine coast—if you can ignore the predominantly Singaporean crowd, that is.

So to the menu. One side has the three options, all priced at $48++, the other a pretty accurate diagram of a lobster, just in case you didn’t know what they looked like.  The beauty of such a simple menu is the staff really know their stuff, running through the (admittedly limited) options with a confidence that’s hard to find in many places. They’re also aware of the slight oddity of this dining experience, clearly this is a place to come and enjoy with friends, and are more than happy to accommodate any requests to share the individual dishes.
As an aside, and it is in the name, they do have some interesting options on their much more sizeable menu. These range from alcoholic Jamaican ginger beer ($13) and Brewdog Punk IPA ($14) to mocktails but to be honest a cold lager or a glass of white wine (from $12) are really the perfect accompaniment.

The whole process is very efficient and reassuringly straight forward. It actually feels like a blessed relief to skip any of that unnecessary agonising over what to order. Last time we plumped for the grilled whole lobster and, perhaps the most talked about option, the lobster roll—there seemed something slightly wrong with slathering the sweet fleshy meat of an American lobster, sustainably caught and then flown all the way over to Singapore from the Atlantic with chili sauce.

So can these dishes stand up to the hype? The quick answer is a resounding yes. The lobster roll, while a little smaller than we’d imagined, is bursting with fat chunks of lobster that is thankfully elevated, rather than concealed by a light mayonnaise. The roll itself is a sinful delight buttery, salty, even slightly nutty; we’d quite happily chow down on these until our arteries clogged up for good. If there was any scope for criticism on this pretty flawless dish, and this is a review after all, the pieces of lobster did feel slightly frigid when contrasted with the welcoming buttery warmth of the warm roll, but their freshness and flavour of the shellfish was beyond dispute.

The dish, like the whole lobster option, comes served with a crisp and well-dressed mesclun salad with sour cherry tomatoes, a bowl of shoestring fries and, in this case, a side of garlic aioli. Again they’re all close to perfect, which is probably the main reason why we’d have liked to have a larger portion of the delicious chips so we could keep dipping away at the moreish aioli a little longer.

The grilled lobster is equally well executed, 600 grams of smoky delight that will have you ferreting away at the claws in a desperate bid to uncover any remaining morsels of sweet meaty goodness. The butter herb sauce it comes with is the only minor disappointment, it’s light enough but again suffers from tasting like it’s been sat in the fridge a little too long. It’s a minor quibble though as to be honest the lobster works just fine without the need for any such fancy adulterations.

Lacking any need for frills or adulteration is a pretty fair assessment of the place in general. There’s nothing particularly sophisticated or clever about Pince and Pints but the end result is a triumph for the belief in doing something seemingly simple very, very well. Will the crowds tire of such a humble concept, possibly, but despite the dwindling queues out front we have our doubts. We’ll be back for sure. After all, as our dinner partner put it, who doesn’t like lobster?

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