I’ve eaten a lot of Japanese curry in Singapore. Most of it is the same. Thick. Brown. Sweet. Poured over rice, sitting heavy, gone from memory before the plate is cleared.
I came to Ki-setsu expecting a version of that. I was wrong. This is something else entirely.
Soup Curry by Ki-setsu is set to be the first and only traditional Hokkaido-style soup curry restaurant in Singapore. It sits at #04-13 Fortune Centre, 190 Middle Road. Soft launch runs across from 7 September 2026 onwards, Mondays to Sat, Lunch and Dinner. The official opening lands on 8 October.
Let’s not waste time. Here’s what’s actually good.
The Broth Is the Whole Story
Hokkaido soup curry is not curry rice. It’s closer to a bowl of soup that happens to carry the depth of curry. Drinkable. Thin enough to sip, deep enough to sit with.
The base here is simmered for more than six hours. Chicken bones. A blend of spices. You taste the time in it. There’s no shortcut that gives you this. Either you wait the six hours or you don’t, and most kitchens don’t.
I tried it at Spice Level 2, the normal setting. The spice came through clean. A real kick, but never loud enough to bury everything underneath. There’s a quiet sweetness sitting below the heat, holding it in place.
If you’re sensitive to spice, start at Level 1. No shame in that. The broth still speaks at the lower setting.
This is a soup you finish. I did.
The Vegetables Stopped Me
Here’s where the dish earns its name.
More than ten pieces of vegetable per bowl. Flash-fried. No flour, no batter, nothing hiding what they are. Just the vegetable, met with quick heat, then set into the broth.
I had potato, gobo chips, lotus root, okra, carrot, eggplant. Each one held its own texture. The lotus root kept its snap. The eggplant went soft and drank the soup. The gobo carried that earthy, quiet bitterness that grounds the whole bowl.
Nothing collapsed. Nothing turned to mush. That balance is harder than it looks with this many pieces cooked at once.
The selection follows the market. What comes in fresh is what lands in your bowl. So the plate shifts week to week, and I like that. It means someone is paying attention to the season, not printing the same order form every day.
This was the part that stayed with me. A bowl of vegetables that behaved like it mattered.
The Chicken Thigh
The chargrilled chicken thigh is cooked separately from the soup. That’s the right call.
Drop the chicken into the broth to cook and it goes stringy, tired, boiled of everything good. Grill it apart and it keeps its juice. Keeps a little char at the edges. Then it meets the soup on its own terms.
It stayed tender. The smoke from the grill threaded into the broth once they came together. Clean flavours. Clear intention.
Who Is Behind This
This is the second concept from Ki-setsu Group. The first is Sushi Masa by Ki-setsu, a high-end omakase restaurant.
That pedigree matters here. Fortune Centre is full of Japanese eateries. Good ones. But most are run by people cooking one thing well. This is a kitchen that came from omakase, where precision is the whole job, and brought that discipline down to a casual bowl of curry.
You feel it in the details. The separate grilling. The flourless vegetables. The six-hour base. These are decisions made by people trained to care about the small things, applied to food that costs a fraction of an omakase counter.
That gap between pedigree and price is the quiet reason this place stands out.
The Room
I usually don’t write about the room. The food should carry it. But I’ll note this much.
The interior is one of the most striking in Fortune Centre. It doesn’t shout. It just feels considered, the way a good bowl feels considered. A calm space to sit and take your time with the soup.
At Night, It Changes
In the evening, Ki-setsu shifts into an izakaya. Small plates. Sake. Some of it drawn from the omakase kitchen upstairs in spirit.
I haven’t sat through a full evening service yet. That’s for the next visit. But the idea is right. A bowl of curry by day, a quiet table with sake by night, the same hands behind both.
What to Order
If you’re going, here’s how I’d approach it.
- Start with the chicken thigh soup curry at Level 2. It’s the honest introduction to what this place does.
- Go Level 1 if you’re spice-sensitive. The broth holds up.
- Pay attention to the vegetables. They change with the market, and they’re the reason to come back.
- Come back at night for the izakaya side once it settles in.
A Few Honest Notes
I’m writing this around the soft launch and opening window. A new kitchen finds its rhythm over time. Broths tighten. Timing sharpens. What I tasted was already assured, but a place like this usually gets better.
The vegetable selection shifting with the market means your bowl won’t match mine exactly. That’s the point. Don’t come chasing a specific photo. Come for whatever the season gave them that morning.
And understand what this dish is before you sit down. If you want the thick, sweet curry you already know, this will confuse you. This is soup. Aromatic, spice-led, meant to be sipped. Come with the right expectation and it delivers.
Would I Return
Yes.
Not for novelty. Being first means little if the food doesn’t hold. This holds.
I’d come back for the broth, six hours in the making and honest about it. For the vegetables, flash-fried and left to be themselves. For a kitchen that took omakase discipline and pointed it at a humble bowl.
Singapore hasn’t had this before. Now it does, and it arrived done properly.
If you find yourself at Fortune Centre once the doors open, take the lift to Level 4. Order the chicken thigh soup curry. Sip the broth first, before anything else.
Good food needs no explanation. This was one of those bowls.
Visit them. You’ll understand.
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