Page 12 - EBOOK_81 Homestyle Recipes With The True Taste Of Indonesia

Surabaya area, famous for spicy salads and rich flavors. The fantasy island of Bali

with all its lush greenery and untouched beaches, boasts a beautiful blend of sweet and
mildly spicy roasted meats, showcasing the traditional methods of cooking in nature.
Western Java offers two distinctly different cuisines, Betawi and Sunda, each with
accents portraying Indonesia’s long cultural and political history.

Along with my parents and siblings, I became a seasoned traveler and eater, going
from the finest, world class dining establishments in five diamond hotels such as Ritz
Carlton, Four Seasons, Aman Resorts and Mandarin Oriental to frequenting hole-in-

the-wall restaurants only locals have known for decades. I ate Indonesian Rijstaffel in
its finest presentations on delicate China with linen tablecloths and I ate Es Campur
and Bakmi Baso on the streets of Jakarta and Surabaya, (the latter experiences when
my mother was not around as she would be terrified of my contracting some dreadful
malady from dirty water). The duality of such opposites became an addictive drug to

me, each experience offering its unique set of flavors, scents, sounds, and emotions.
In my later teenage years, I experienced many of the most painful and trying

moments of my life, losing my beloved grandfather and several other treasured family
members. Those devastating losses shaped the course of my spirit and life
irrevocably, often manifesting in the strangest of ways. In the kitchen, I began an
insatiable quest for acute flavors, emotionally familiar aromas, recreating recipes that
were the favorites of people I’d lost forever. Aside from photo albums that were

sometimes too difficult to look at, the recipes were all I had left to feel their embrace,
to hear their laughter and the happy noises of loved ones eating together. From those
early years until today, food has become the only viable bridge between those living
in the present and those who have passed on.

Every time I miss my grandfather (or my uncles, aunts and cousins) I begin to cook
his favorite dishes, many of which were Indonesian. From classic Indonesian Mapo
Tofu (Mun Tahu) to Chicken Rice Porridge (Bubur Ayam), I often spend hours in the
kitchen, creating one dish after another, as a silent offering to someone I love, who
happens to be a little far away. I chop garlic at lightning speed, laughing to myself as I

hear their voices, “ add more garlic…you can never have too much garlic. ” On my
hands and knees, I maneuver the stone mortar and pestle to grind the red chili peppers,
watching the ghost of my aunt showing me exactly how to bend my arm to get the right
pressure. And when I’m done cooking, when I’m done trying to make each dish a little
better every time, I sit down with those loved ones around me today, sharing a