End of an Era: Visiting Boh Geh Uncle Canteen One Last Time

Sitting outdoor under the trees

As bus 117 rolled through Seletar, Singapore's modern aerospace hub, I took a moment to just look out the window and enjoy the unusually serene greenery. My destination was 398 Piccadilly, home to the legendary Boh Geh Uncle Canteen or Canteen 398.

I wouldn't have rushed down this week if not for my dad. He had forwarded a picture of the canteen from a friend's group chat with a urgent reminder: 'Go visit and record down the place before it's gone!'

Since I live nearby, I knew I couldn't miss out (or FOMO maybe). With their last day of operation officially set for 18 September 2026, I headed out on its final week to experience this rustic piece of history for the first and one last time on 14 September 2026.

Will never see such sights in Singapore again

Stepping off the bus onto Piccadilly felt like stepping straight into a time machine. Hidden within distance from Seletar Camp, Boh Geh Uncle Canteen isn't just an ordinary eating spot, it is one of Singapore’s very last operational rustic kampong-style canteens.

Long before it became a beloved stop for local workers, cyclists, and taxi drivers, the one-storey timber-and-zinc building served as a British military corporal's mess hall during the colonial era. Over the decades, as the military base transitioned, the space evolved into a multi-stall canteen serving the local community. It retains its rare retro charm: open-air wooden tables, low zinc roofs, and an undeniable nostalgic warmth that has entirely disappeared from modern shopping mall food courts.

My Dad's friends sent this photo and urge me to go for a visit

What truly gives the canteen its heart, however, is the man behind it. The canteen gained its famous moniker, Boh Geh Uncle Canteen, from its long-time operator, Uncle William Toh. "Boh Geh" translates to "toothless" in Hokkien, an affectionate nickname given by regular patrons over the decades. For 57 years, Uncle Boh Geh and the stallholders have fed generations of Singaporeans, keeping prices affordable and the kampong spirit alive.

Interestingly, for years the canteen famously maintained a strict "no photography" policy due to its location on military-adjacent grounds. But in these final days before retirement, Uncle Boh Geh graciously relaxed the rules, allowing media, visitors and longtime regulars to capture one last memory of this iconic landmark and even selfies with him before it shutters forever after 57 years. 

My Breakfast (Milo Kosong & Char Siew Pau) with the view of the canteen

Stepping off the bus and walking along the uneven, unpaved path toward the canteen, the modern world instantly receded. Tucked beneath the shade of towering, mature trees, Boh Geh Uncle Canteen felt completely detached from the sleek, hyper-modern urban landscape.

The canteen wore its age with a quiet, undeniable pride. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy above, casting soft shadows across the weathered wooden structures and the rustic, open-air dining area. Every corner of the space, from the worn floorboards and aged zinc roofs to the mismatch of retro chairs, carried an authentic vintage charm that no modern, theme-designed cafe could ever replicate.

Every single piece in that place tells a story of the past. You could feel the decades of quiet morning coffees and warm community chatter baked right into the timber. It wasn't just a place to grab a quick bite; it was a living time capsule holding onto a peaceful, slow-paced Singapore that is rapidly fading away.

Food variety from Chinese stall

Instead of sitting under the trees, I headed inside the canteen to soak in the indoor atmosphere. The space was buzzing with energy: packed with customers ordering drinks and food, people were capturing memories, taking videos of the rustic interior, and lining up to snap photos with Uncle Boh Geh and the two hardworking aunties who have kept the place running for years, soaking in every last detail.

Food variety from Malay stall

I settled down with a simple mug of Milo Kosong $1.30 and a warm Char Siew Pau $0.90. Sitting amidst the lively crowd, sipping on my hot Milo and enjoying a classic bun, the humble meal hit the spot. It wasn’t about fancy dining; it was about being present in a piece of history.

The Best of Both World from both stalls

My husband playfully teased me afterward, saying I had "wasted the trip" by not trying the famous dishes like the Malay stall’s Nasi Lemak and Nasi Padang, Chicken Wings or the well-loved Chinese Economic Rice which I overheard on the spot from other customers saying their braised chicken was good! Despite that, I didn't buy him a pack of rice for his dinner to reminisce the days he went there for meals. Haha... 

(Left to Right) They sell Curry Chicken here. The canteen from another angle.

Boh Geh Uncle and Me with my mouth stuffed with Char Siew Pau

Even without trying every single dish on the menu, I have zero regrets making a trip down. Inside that crowded, nostalgic hall under the old trees of Piccadilly, I felt immense gratitude to my dad for pushing me to visit before it was too late.

While September 18 marks the end of an era, the warmth, history, and vibrant memories captured during those final days will linger long after the shutters come down for good. Farewell, Boh Geh Uncle Canteen! Thank you for giving us one last taste of Singapore's true kampong spirit.

Boh Geh Uncle Canteen/Canteen 398
398 Piccadilly
Singapore 798368
Opens Mon-Fri till 1.30pm
Closes on Sat & Sun, PH

After Boh Geh Uncle Canteen, I went for colonial houses hunt along Old Birdcage Walk and Oxford Street.

Disclaimer: This post is not sponsored. All thoughts, reviews, and opinions shared here are entirely my own and based on my personal experiences. They do not reflect the views or positions of any companies, employers, or organizations I am associated with. All food, beverages, and products featured were purchased independently unless otherwise stated. All photos were taken by me and transformed into watercolor illustrations using AI.