[Read about some of the best new restaurants in New York City (for now).]

The original Kopitiam, reviewed by Ligaya Mishan in a 2015 Hungry City column, was situated around the corner on Canal Street and had just four seats at a single counter. In June, Ms. Pang and her new business partner, Moonlynn Tsai, relocated to a larger, if still fairly intimate, space a few steps above the sidewalk. You order at the counter and receive a number on a metal stand, a kind of promissory note for the food and beverages. If you show up on a weekday in the morning or afternoon, when seats are not hard to come by and the room has a languid, unhurried air, you could get just a cup of bek-kopi and linger over it with a newspaper. You will probably want more than that, though.

From 9 a.m., when the doors open, until 10 p.m., when they close, you can get nasi lemak, Malaysia’s national dish and a particular favorite at breakfast. I don’t know another kitchen in the city where the fragrances of coconut and pandan leaf infuse the rice as elegantly, or where the tiny dried fish, which Kopitiam fries with peanuts, form a caramelized crust that erases the distinction between sweet and savory.

Or your breakfast could be a bowl of two eggs boiled just long enough to turn the whites opaque while leaving the yolks free to billow into mushroom-soy broth underneath. Or it might be fish ball soup, grape-size globes of ground fish in a cloudy white broth; if the grains of white pepper on the surface aren’t intense enough for you, you can stir in a little fish sauce spiced with bird’s eye chiles. Rice vermicelli can be added, too, but the soup is easier to appreciate in pure liquid form.

For mornings when nothing but a cannonball dive into sugar will do, Kopitiam is ready with a sculptural pile of thick-cut French toast battered with Milo malt-chocolate powder, a Malaysian passion, with streams of sweetened condensed milk playing the part that in this country is normally taken by maple syrup. Eat the whole stack and you will know the answer to the musical question posed by the Cramps: How far can too far go?