With his wire-rimmed glasses and scholarly demeanour, Lim Zhi Han probably looks more suited buried in a book than rolling out fresh dough. For nearly two decades, that was true. The 45-year-old lectured at the National University of Singapore after earning his PhD in physics there.
Last November, Lim left academia to open 42 Pasta Is The Answer, a 20-seat Italian restaurant at Thomson Plaza. He runs it almost entirely on his own, with help from a part-timer, and occasional weekend pasta-making assistance from his wife Hwee Yee, who has a full-time job.
The menu is deliberately simple: One handmade pasta dish a day, usually decided by Lim that very morning. It could be stuffed ravioli, ribbony tagliatelle or a ridged tube pasta in both traditional and fusion sauces like creamy mushroom, pork ragu and miso butter – customers never know until they arrive at the restaurant.
Starters like bruschetta, marinated olives, roasted pork and Waldorf salad, plus a house-made Basque cheesecake, round out the offering.
Before opening 42 Pasta Is The Answer, Lim Zhi Han spent 19 years in academia, including teaching cross-department courses like astronomy and mathematics to NUS students from various majors.
“I was quite sure that academia is something that I will probably do for the rest of my life,” he says. “But while I’m still a bit younger, perhaps I should try something different.”
His colleagues were shocked when he announced his career change. Some have since become customers – his farewell party was held here – and a few students have even worked part-time in his restaurant. He admits he misses “intellectual discussions” with students and peers.
Cooking, however, had always been a quiet passion. “I was into all sorts of cooking,” he says. “I started watching this wonderful YouTube channel called Pasta Grannies during my commutes [to work], and about two years ago I began making pasta at home.”
He was hooked.
“Freshly made pasta is very varied. Once you start to get into it, it’s a whole new world.”
His wife, Hwee Yee, was supportive from the start, though she admits the idea initially took her by surprise.
“It’s an unconventional path, but it is what it is,” she shares in a separate interview.
“We talked about it and in the end, we both agreed that if it’s something he wants to try, he should go ahead and pursue it. Success is not defined by your job, after all.”
Lim jokes that his wife had a caveat: “She said, after [their daughter’s] PSLE exams, then you can start!”
“There wasn’t a good or right time, but PSLE was an important milestone and we thought it’s good to spend more time to guide her,” she explains of the couple’s pre-teen.
In November 2024, after the exams were over, he invested about S$60,000 (US$46,700) to launch 42 Pasta Is The Answer.
The restaurant’s quirky name is a nod to The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, in which “42” is revealed as the ultimate answer to life, the universe and everything.
A fan of the book’s geeky humour, Lim Zhi Han even considered calling it The Restaurant At The End of the Universe – a playful nod to the sequel and to a course he once taught called The Universe.
In the end, he went with the cleaner, punchier 42 Pasta Is The Answer.
Since opening, he’s made well over 42 types of pasta, though he jokes that if two diners share two pastas and a roast pork salad, the bill conveniently comes to S$42.
Located on the ground floor of Thomson Plaza, the 20-seat space is simple and bright, with blonde wood tables, rattan-backed chairs and paper lanterns creating a cosy, homey vibe.
“We stay in Yishun and we like to come to Thomson Plaza. Yishun is too crowded! In fact, the previous tenant was a Japanese restaurant that we frequented. I like how chill the mall is,” he says.
An open kitchen sits just behind the dining area, where Lim works alone, rolling out wide sheets of fresh pasta dough on a wooden counter – the setup invites diners to catch glimpses of the action.
Reservations are strongly recommended for dinner and weekend service. Outside those peak times, Lim usually sets aside a few spots for walk-ins.
Every day, Lim makes his pasta from scratch using one of two base doughs: A classic egg dough of wheat flour and eggs, or a firmer semolina dough.
Prep time depends on the style; long noodles and tubes are quicker but smaller hand-shaped pastas can take up to an hour.
“The most challenging ones are the smaller pastas, because you need to make so many more pieces for a single portion,” he says.
The trickiest shape so far?
Spizzulus – a small, twisted pasta from Sardinia. “I’ve stopped making it,” he says with a laugh.
On the counter, his tools are laid out like a craftsman’s kit: A sturdy wooden rolling pin from Hong Kong and imported Italian pasta stamps and ferretti – thin metal rods used to roll and shape elongated pasta.
He estimates he’s made around 50 pasta types to date, drawing inspiration from everywhere: The Pasta Grannies cookbook, YouTube and online recipes.
Most mornings start at 7am at the wet market, where he shops for ingredients for that day’s pasta sauce or base and other menu items like his house-made roasted pork and Basque cheesecake, which weren’t ready during our visit.
Pasta-making has been harder on his body than expected.
“When we first opened, the restaurant was only closed one day a week. I increased it to two so I can recover, and exercise more on my off days to cope better,” he says.
The change has also meant a pay cut – his current salary is “about 50 per cent less” than what he earned as a lecturer. He’s adjusted by cutting back on personal expenses.
When asked how long it took for the restaurant to turn a profit, his answer is measured: “It depends on how ‘profitable’ is defined. If it’s just profit equals revenue minus all operating costs, then we were profitable from the first month.”
Is the current model – one pasta dish a day, small seating capacity – financially sustainable long-term? Again, Lim Zhi Han says, it depends on the definition.
“Most customers don’t eat more than one pasta and most who dine here don’t mind the lack of choice. The concept means a return visit will likely feature a different pasta, so I think the lack of choice doesn’t really impact revenue. As for small seating capacity, it does put an upper ceiling on revenue but I think that ceiling isn’t too low to make the business unsustainable.”
Lim hopes more Italian customers will visit so he can gauge if his pasta meets their standards. “I’m pretty confident the nonnas will approve,” he says, adding that he believes his food holds its own against other Italian restaurants in Singapore.
He’s grateful that diners have embraced his one-pasta-a-day concept, and for their patience – especially since preparing each dish single-handedly takes time. If someone chooses to walk away because the day’s pasta isn’t to their taste, he takes it in stride. Most of his customers live or work nearby and many are regulars.
The work also means less family time. In academia, his flexible schedule allowed his daughter to hang out at his office or for them to go out together. Now, Sundays are kept free so he can spend the day with his wife and daughter.
His long-term goal is to hire more staff so he can spend more time experimenting with dishes, but that will only happen once the business grows further. For now, the restaurant is already profitable and often fully booked for dinners and weekends – sometimes turning customers away for lack of seats. He declines to share specific figures, but says the numbers so far are encouraging.
Made with supple egg dough, these tender ravioli have a slight chew and edges that catch a gentle golden crust from the quick pan-fry, adding a homely touch. Tossed in nutty French brown butter, the dish is surprisingly light, its richness balanced by the natural sweetness of pear and the creamy, mellow ricotta filling.
Finished with grated pecorino, hand-pestled black pepper, and fresh mint leaves, it’s a simple, elegant combination that satisfies without weighing you down.
We were lucky to catch Lim making a second pasta during our visit: Foglie d’ulivo, a traditional shape resembling olive leaves. Each piece is painstakingly formed by pressing a knife onto green spinach dough. For a playful touch, he even used leftover ravioli dough to create a few flower shapes – a romantic flourish for this summery plate.
Instead of a heavy, herb-laden red sauce, the pasta is deliberately dressed in a lighter style to let the handmade dough shine – just a sauce made from sauteed and raw tomatoes, fresh basil, crumbles of feta, and black pepper. Made from semolina dough, the pasta has a satisfying chew and a faintly nutty flavour. The result is bright, fresh, and quietly charming, letting the gentle flavour and texture of the pasta take centre stage.
42 Pasta Is The Answer is at 301 Upper Thomson Road, #01-43 Thomson Plaza, Singapore 574408. Open daily except Thur & Sun: 12pm to 2pm, 6pm to 8pm.
This story was originally published in 8Days.
For more 8Days stories, visit https://www.8days.sg/
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