Mr Chieng Puay Chui is a celebrity of sorts, at 71. 

A familiar sight outside Takashimaya along Orchard Road, “Uncle Chieng” is probably the iconic Singapore “ice-cream man” - the unassuming figure of epic importance to every child born in 60s, 70s and 80s.

It is no wonder he is also one of the must-have wefies for tourists who make the pilgrimage to his stall for the now-famous “Singapore ice-cream”. Besides peddling his $1.20 ice-cream, he is often seen flashing a peace sign while taking photos with admirers from afar. 

“The Chinese tourist would bring their kids, who would come up and call me ye ye, so my son thought we should give the stall a name -  Zhan ye ye (translated: Grandpa Zhan) in Chinese, and in English, it was Uncle Chieng.”

Ironically, Uncle Chieng doesn’t know how to use social media. He doesn’t deck up in cool clothes and he doesn’t offer life hacks. But he has been selling ice-cream - for 55 years. 

Uncle Chieng’s story started in 1965, when as a 16 year-old boy, he made a career choice.

“I had this distant relative, an uncle, who sold ice-cream. I would go and visit him everyday after school and he would give me ice-cream. Then I thought, wouldn’t it be nice that if I became an ice-cream seller, I could eat ice-cream everyday?”

In the heydays of the 60s, ice-cream was big business. Whenever a marquee sprung up, signalling a wayang (Chinese opera) performance in the area, 15-20 hawkers in trishaws and huge cylindrical drums - would throng the narrow street to peddle ice-cream.

Towards the end of the nightly show, a shouting match would usually ensue, as hawkers tried to undercut each other to finish their stock. 

Because ice-cream hawkers are mobile, improvised refrigeration is the key to their trade. In the beginning, hawkers used a mixture of crushed ice and salt to create a sub-zero environment to prevent their ice-cream from melting. In the 1980s, hawkers switched to dry ice. Trishaws also gave way to motorcycles with sidecars over the decades.

Uncle Chieng’s motorcycle is a 28-year-old Honda CG125, which can only be kick-started, since it doesn’t have an electric starter. Mounted on its side is a 60cm x 100cm x 70cm aluminium sidecar, which also functions as a table for cutting up the ice-cream blocks.

At any one time  in the sidecar, there would be at least 50 blocks of ice-cream of up to 13 flavours, kept from melting by 3-4 blocks of dry ice. 

Customers who visit his stall would usually ask for ice-cream to be served with wafer biscuits or rainbow-coloured bread - all for the same $1.20 price tag. Cones and cups are available options, but it wasn’t always this way.

“In the beginning, we served customers by inserting wooden sticks into the ice-cream. But usually, before they can finish the ice-cream, it will break up in halves and drop on the ground! So we started using wafer biscuits and bread. It became very popular, because customers can finish the ice-cream to the last bite!”

Throughout his career, Uncle Chieng has moved around several places. He began peddling at the Housing Development Board main office at Bukit Merah in the 70s, then moved to CK Tang in the 80s, and finally to his present spot in 1993, when Takashimaya first opened its doors amidst much fanfare. “There were many people and they were giving out free Japanese fans.”

At first, only locals would buy ice-cream from him, because tourists didn’t notice him. Slowly, affluent Indonesians and regional celebrities who came to Orchard Road started buying from him. Now, sales to tourists outnumber sales to local customers. 

In 2014, his presence was noticed by Hong Kong celebrity Nicholas Tse, and Uncle Chieng was featured on Tse’s popular TV programme. This was followed by raving public reviews on the Chinese app “Da Zhong Dian Ping” (大众点评）, which gave his ice-cream stall an instant celebrity status. 

For most ice-cream men, the job is far less glamourous, with little recognition beyond the satisfied grin of the customer. 

According to Uncle Chieng, the authorities only issued island-wide licenses to ice-cream hawkers once, in 1970. Today only 12 such licensees are active, of whom 7 are in Orchard Road. In 2000 during the financial crisis, another round of licenses were issued to create “jobs of last resort”, but licensees have to operate within a designated zone.

Today, Uncle Chieng and other “ice-cream men” make cameo appearances at corporate events and weddings to lend a touch of nostalgia and novelty. However, Uncle Chieng confesses that the trade will need to evolve in order to survive.

Uncle Chieng’s Traditional & Wafer Ice Créme is located at outside Takashimaya (Ngee Ann City), and more information can be found at its Facebook Page.