Rubbish Eat Rubbish Grow

Two taps. That’s the first thing you need to know before you climb the stairs at Fortune Centre to find Craft Beer by Ki-setsu. Two taps on a floor that already has two established craft beer bars doing their own thing, with their own regulars, their own tap lists running to a dozen lines or more. So the question sits there before you’ve even ordered: can a bar with this little on draught earn its keep next to neighbours who have so much more?

The answer, it turns out, has less to do with the taps than with what’s happening in the kitchen next door. But we’ll get there.

What Is Craft Beer by Ki-setsu Actually Trying to Be?

Fortune Centre’s fourth floor has quietly become something of a destination for people who care about beer in Singapore. Walk past Craft Beer by Ki-setsu and you’ll find at least two other craft beer bars Singapore regulars already know by name, each with their own loyal crowd and their own reason for being there. Craft Beer by Ki-setsu opened on the same floor on 8 October 2026, which means it isn’t filling a gap so much as asking for a seat at a table that was already full.

That’s a tough spot to open in. You don’t get to be the only option. You have to be a better one, or at least a different one, for someone.

The Draught Situation: What Are You Actually Drinking?

Let’s be precise, because it matters. Craft Beer by Ki-setsu pours from two draught lines, not four. What you get are four distinct pours from those two lines, and the distinction is the whole trick.

Both lines are Suntory’s The Premium Malt’s: the Pilsner at $7.80 and the Black at $8.80. Straightforward enough on their own. But the bar also offers two blends made from those same two lines, poured together at the tap in different ratios. Amber is a 50/50 blend of the Pilsner and the Black, priced at $8.80. Selling Sunset is a 70/30 blend, weighted toward the Pilsner, also $8.80, and the bar claims it as a pour unique to Singapore.

Neither Amber nor Selling Sunset should be mistaken for a Suntory product. They’re not. Suntory makes the two base beers. What Craft Beer by Ki-setsu does is combine them at the tap, in specific ratios, to create something that didn’t exist before it hit your glass. Selling Sunset in particular needs a minute to settle once poured, the two liquids separating slightly before they come together, which is either a neat party trick or a genuinely interesting way to taste what a pilsner and a dark lager do to each other when you force them to share space. I’d lean toward the latter.

Four pours from two lines isn’t a limitation dressed up as a feature. It’s the one genuinely original idea on this floor, and it’s worth your attention even if the rest of the list leaves you wanting.

Whether any of these four pours is actually on tap on the night you visit is a different question entirely. Tap lists rotate. Call ahead if you have your heart set on the Selling Sunset.

What About the Bottles?

Twelve bottle lines, all 330ml, drawn from four countries: Singapore, Vietnam, Germany and France. Seven of the twelve come from The 1925 Brewing Co, which gives the list its backbone. The rest is filled out with Heart of Darkness imports, a La Chouette Rose Cider for anyone who wants something that isn’t beer at all, and a Warsteiner Fresh for the alcohol free crowd. Across the whole list, three options are zero alcohol, which is a reasonable showing for a bar this size and worth knowing if you’re the designated person getting everyone home.

No beers from Japan, Taiwan or Australia make an appearance here, despite what the name and the aesthetic might suggest to you before you sit down. The bottle list is smaller in geography than you might expect, but it isn’t thin in intent. Seven lines from one brewery suggests a relationship, not a scattergun approach to stocking a fridge.

So Why Bother, If the Tap List Is This Small?

Here’s the part that actually answers the opening question. Craft Beer by Ki-setsu shares its floor space with Soup Curry by Ki-setsu, run by the same kitchen, and that’s where the bar separates itself from its neighbours.

Four soup curry bowls anchor the menu, ranging from $14.80 for the Chicken Drumstick or Vegetable up to $19.80 for the Chargrilled Tsukune. Spice levels run from 0 to 4, with a custom X level sitting above that for anyone who wants to test themselves against a bowl while nursing a Selling Sunset. The kitchen also puts out appetisers from $3.80 to $8.80 and sides from $5.80 to $9.80, seven of the nine being fried, which tells you plainly what kind of eating this is built for: things you can share over a beer without needing cutlery discipline. Budget roughly $17 to $21 before service for a beer and a side, or $25.60 to $30.60 if you’re going in for a full bowl. All prices are subject to a 10% service charge, and the draught pours sit at happy hour pricing across the entire trading window, every day, which softens the bill considerably.

No other bar on this floor is serving a proper soup curry menu alongside its taps, and that single fact does more to justify a visit than the beer list does on its own.

The desserts run from $6.80 to $8.80, which puts the kitchen firmly in sharing-plates territory rather than fine dining. It’s priced to make sense alongside a beer, not to carry the evening on its own, and that’s exactly the right call for what this room is trying to be.

What’s the Room Actually Like?

Fifty seats, plus two positions right at the bar if you want to watch your Selling Sunset settle up close. The space is air conditioned, which on a floor of Fortune Centre units is not something to take for granted. Jazz and R&B play at a volume you can talk over, which is the right call for a bar trying to be a place you linger rather than a place you shout.

Both the bar and the soup curry kitchen belong to the same group, and you can feel that in how deliberately the two units speak to each other. This isn’t a beer bar that happens to be near a restaurant. It’s one operation split across two doors on the same floor, and the food exists specifically to make the beer make sense.

What’s the Honest Limitation Here?

This is where I have to be straight with you. Craft Beer by Ki-setsu trades for two hours a night, from 7.30pm to 9.30pm, with no reservations taken. That’s not a soft suggestion. It’s the actual window you have to work with, and it rules out a lot of what people usually want from a beer bar: the long session, the slow second round, the night that drifts past midnight without anyone noticing.

If you’re after a deep tap list and the freedom to sit for four hours working through it, this isn’t that bar, and it was never trying to be. The group’s other venue on this floor, Sushi Masa by Ki-setsu, runs on a similarly tight, high demand model, and if that review taught me anything, it’s that this group seems to prefer scarcity over sprawl as a way of doing business. Two hours a night, no bookings, is the same instinct showing up again here.

A Quick Note on Why I’m Writing This

This review is part of a longer run I’ve been doing through Singapore’s craft beer bars for RERG, one at a time, in no particular order of ranking. I’m not building a spreadsheet to tell you which is best. I’m just going to each one and telling you honestly what I found, which is slower than a listicle but considerably more useful if you actually want to know what you’re walking into.

So Who Should Actually Go?

Go if you want to taste something genuinely different: the Amber and Selling Sunset blends aren’t available anywhere else, and the soup curry kitchen next door gives you a reason to stay for food rather than just beer. Go if a tight two hour window suits your evening better than an open ended one, and if you can accept that the tap list will never rival the bars either side of it.

Don’t go if you’re chasing a long tap list to work through slowly, or if you need the option of booking ahead and showing up whenever suits you. Don’t go expecting Japanese, Taiwanese or Australian beers either; that’s simply not what’s being poured here.

Two taps, four pours, a kitchen with real intent behind it, and a two hour window that forces you to commit. Craft Beer by Ki-setsu isn’t trying to out-stock its neighbours. It’s betting that a smaller list with a genuine idea beats a bigger one without one, and on the evidence of the blend mechanic alone, that bet is worth taking seriously.