For a dish that’s basically just poached chicken on white rice, few dishes on earth inspire such fanatical devotion as Hainanese chicken rice. The first part of the name refers to the Chinese island province of Hainan, though it wasn’t until some residents settled in Singapore, where the dish was adapted with local ingredients and flavors, that it became the Hainanese chicken rice we know today.
The dish is absurdly popular in that city-state, where people fiercely debate which place serves the ultimate version. This is despite the fact that, as the admittedly straightforward title suggests, the dish is almost entirely white, with a little beige thrown in. If you’ve never tried it before, you might be wondering how this could be a dish that inspires such obsessiveness.
Since Chicago is approximately 9,359 miles from Singapore, it’s not totally surprising we don’t have a lot of restaurant versions here. I only became hooked 12 years ago after reading about it in a random cookbook. Yet, one time was all it took for me to add it to my serious cooking rotation. It’s no exaggeration that I’ve made it approximately a hundred times. My daughter gets mildly peeved if I cook chicken any other way.
3 Sauces Hainam Chicken Rice. (E. Jason Wambsgans / Chicago Tribune)
Chen Yu fell for the dish while growing up in southern California. His favorite version came from the Savoy Kitchen in the San Gabriel Valley, an area east of Los Angeles renowned for its southeast Asian and Chinese restaurants. When he moved to Chicago four years ago so his dad could help with the opening of Min’s Noodle House in Bridgeport, Yu looked around the city to find a version that measured up. He quickly realized he’d have to figure it out himself.
Yu now runs what is probably Chicago’s only dedicated Hainanese chicken rice restaurant, 3 Sauces Hainam Chicken Rice. (Hainam is a spelling variation of Hainan.) Located in the basement food court of the Richland Center in Chinatown, Yu works the tiny stall all by himself, rushing between the register and minuscule kitchen to prepare each order. Despite his lack of help, no place in Chicago comes as close to nailing this bewildering dish.
At 3 Sauces, the meat is simmered so carefully, the texture of each slice of chicken takes on the springy and toothsome texture of juicy pork. It’s an astonishing transformation. Though you’ll spot the aroma of ginger hanging out in the background of the meat, you’ll mostly marvel at how it tastes more like chicken than you thought chicken could taste. While most versions use bone-in chicken, Yu favors boneless pieces, so you won’t need to worry about crunching down on any hard bits.
Yu gets the skin right too. Probably thanks to dishes like Buffalo wings, we Midwesterners tend to prize crispy skin. But great chicken rice features skin on the opposite side of the texture spectrum. Gelatinous and nearly rubbery is the goal, and 3 Sauces nails it.
The meat rests on a warm bed of white rice cooked with liquid leftover from the cooking process, so the rice doubles the savoriness of the meal. As is often the case in Singapore, each order comes with a small bowl of chicken broth, a deeply soothing sip that manages to pack in even more chicken essence.
If you’re still not convinced, know when the dish arrives, it’s not quite done. Instead, it needs your input. As the restaurant’s name makes abundantly clear, you’ll get three different sauces on the side. First is sambal, a seriously spicy sauce made with crushed red chiles and garlic. Then comes a thick, dark soy sauce that is obviously salty, but also loaded with umami. Finally, there’s a finely chopped ginger sauce, which is salty, pungent and not at all shy.
Chen Yu, in his Hainam Chicken Rice stall in the Richland Center basement food court. (E. Jason Wambsgans / Chicago Tribune)
Half the fun of eating Hainanese chicken rice is testing each sauce and then figuring out exactly how much of each you want drizzled on top. Suddenly, that monochromatic dish becomes a Jackson Pollock masterpiece: bright looping lines of red and dark black, with pale yellow splotches of ginger. If you’ve composed it correctly, you’ll get waves of heat, acid, salt and meatiness. Then again, you could go sparingly with the sauces, indulging in the deeply comforting nature of the chicken and rice. It’s up to you.
3 Sauces is not strictly a one-dish restaurant. There is a fried chicken version of the dish, which does add crunch, though it lacks the delicate interplay and the incredible texture of the other version. There’s southeast Asian chicken noodle soup, which combines the incredible broth with thin rice noodles. You’ll also find some very good crispy shrimp rolls, along with crispy veggie rolls and popcorn chicken.
Need dessert? Maybe order the fried Nutella dumplings. You can even get a nice Thai iced tea.
But you’ll never catch me ordering anything without the best version of Hainanese chicken rice in Chicago. It is even frustratingly better than mine.
2002 S. Wentworth Ave., basement level
Tribune rating: Two stars, very good
Open: Thursday to Tuesday, 10:30 a.m. to 8:30 p.m.; closed Wednesdays
Prices: Starters, $6.95 to $9.95; main courses, $11.95
Accessibility: Elevator is available to basement food court, but overall access is very limited.
Ratings key: Four stars, outstanding; three stars, excellent; two stars, very good; one star, good; no stars, unsatisfactory. Meals are paid for by the Tribune.