How This All Began
My name’s Sebastian Tan. I never thought a food website would carry my name around the internet. Didn’t start as a chef. Didn’t grow up collecting family recipes. One afternoon at Changi Airport, stuck between flights, that changed. All I had was a half-dead phone, a rumbling stomach, and some ridiculously good food court noodles. Something snapped. Not a dramatic moment, just a quiet nudge. People love eating, sure. But more than that, they love figuring out what goes into their plates.
Tastes make memories. Cooking turns frustration into flavor. Recipes pull families together. That wait at the terminal turned into the blueprint. OriginalSin.com.sg became my way to catch that lightning and turn it into something people can actually use.
What This Site Is
This isn’t a lifestyle blog wearing an apron. No polished marble countertops, no expensive kitchen gadgets, no flexing. OriginalSin.com.sg shares real recipes, the kind folks make after long shifts, late-night cravings, or sudden rushes of inspiration. Each one has to pass two tests, easy enough to follow, bold enough to keep.
Sometimes you’ll find quick weekday fixes. Other times, a recipe might test your patience and timing. Not every dish here is photogenic. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that it works. That it leaves someone hungry for one more bite.
What “Original Sin” Means To Me
Let’s clear the air. OriginalSin.com.sg doesn’t preach. There’s no deeper message hiding behind the name. I just like irony. Food was humanity’s first rebellion, right? Someone picked something forbidden, tried it, then changed everything. That risk, that urge to taste something new, it’s wild. Also, kind of funny.
I wanted the site’s name to spark curiosity. Maybe even raise eyebrows. This isn’t about being edgy. It’s about breaking away from rules. From rigid food categories. From the idea that there’s only one right way to make something.
Who’s Cooking Behind the Scenes
Mostly me. Some recipes come from people I meet. A chef who likes to experiment with spices from her travels. A cab driver who swears by his grandmother’s braised pork belly, minus two ingredients he never reveals. I test every one myself. Measure by measure, I cook everything in my tiny HDB kitchen. No studio lights. No crew.
Once in a while, I’ll invite someone to guest-write. Could be a baker who made waves with burnt cheesecake. Could be someone random who figured out the perfect egg sandwich balance at 3 a.m. in their dorm kitchen. If the recipe’s got punch, it stays.
Why I Avoid Fancy Stuff
Here’s the thing, food content online can feel... filtered. Not just the photos. The stories too. Every post sounds like it was run through four rounds of edits and a committee. Not here. Not on my watch. There’s no luxury section. No “chef’s kiss” commentary. Just a clean space with flavors that matter.
Not everyone owns a sous-vide machine. Not everyone likes truffle oil. What you will find are recipes that get messy, make your hands work, and leave your kitchen smelling right. My measuring tools? Mostly mismatched cups and fingers.
The Real MVPs
Every person who drops by this site matters more than algorithms. The messages, the feedback, the gentle corrections, keep them coming. Some of the best recipes here came from people who wrote things like, “You forgot to mention the garlic.” Others came back with pictures of their kids licking the plate clean. That’s gold.
People power this site. Their cravings, their wins, their disasters turned success. I listen. I tweak. Then I try again.
What You Won’t Find
No paid reviews. No listicles with thirty items that take forever to load. No sudden pop-ups asking for donations. You’ll never see a banner claiming something’s “life-changing.” Maybe your life doesn’t need changing. Maybe you just want to make crispy tofu that doesn't taste like a sponge.
No long intros either. You’re not here to hear how I emotionally connected with a bag of flour. You’re here to cook. So I keep it short and sharp. Ingredients. Method. Done.
Weird But Useful
Not every idea here works the first time. I’m not afraid to fail. One recipe called for cold watermelon soup with fish sauce. Sounded genius on paper. Tasted like regret. But failing leads to better recipes. It strips ego. Makes cooking honest again.
Sometimes I’ll suggest adding cereal to a stir-fry. Sometimes I’ll tell you to boil something in tea. Sounds weird. Might work. You’ll never know unless you try.
My Cooking Style
Flavor over form. Texture before technique. Intuition over measurements. That’s how I cook. I stir with my eyes, season with my ears, and plate like I’m five minutes late to a party. Fancy plating doesn’t impress me. Balanced taste does.
Doesn’t mean everything’s chaotic. I do measure. I keep notes. But I’m not chasing culinary awards. I’m chasing taste that feels real.
Where I Get My Ideas
Everywhere. A conversation in a queue. A smell that drifts through a car window. A TikTok hack that shouldn’t work but does. I steal from memories, remix mistakes, borrow from strangers. Then I give credit, test everything, and tweak until it clicks.
Markets give me ideas. So do hawker centers. Even supermarket clearance racks. Sometimes inspiration costs $2.50 and comes wrapped in yesterday’s newsprint.
What This Site Stands Against
Pretentious food writing. Shallow cooking tips. Gatekeeping. Those things rot creativity. Everyone’s allowed a seat at this table. You cook badly? Cool. That means you’re learning. You don’t like onions? Skip them. Want to use MSG? Go ahead. Flavor matters more than rules.
Also, this site never shames. Your fridge isn’t a reflection of your worth. Sometimes all you’ve got is bread and butter. That’s enough. You can make something good with less.
What I Want Readers To Feel
Curious. Brave. Hungry. I want someone to land here and feel like they’ve found a place that doesn’t judge how they cook. Doesn’t care if they burned rice last week. A space where food meets fun, not fear. If I’ve done my job right, you’ll close a tab and open a fridge. Then maybe, just maybe, try something different.
The Future of OriginalSin.com.sg
I don’t have a five-year plan. I have ideas. Maybe a podcast. Maybe a pop-up kitchen somewhere quiet. A zine filled with food fails and wins. What matters most is keeping things honest, bold, and a little bit wild.
If OriginalSin.com.sg becomes more than a website, cool. But even if it stays a humble collection of flavors and stories, that’s more than enough.
What You Can Do
Got a story? Recipe? Kitchen disaster that turned delicious? Send it. If it fits, it might end up here. I read every message. Don’t always reply fast, but I see them all.
You can also support by just using the site. Share it if you like something. Tell a friend. Send a recipe to someone who eats instant noodles too often. Or just cook something, quietly. That’s more than enough support.