Selamat Makan – Enjoy your meal

Just the other day a friend called to ask me if I could write a short piece on Indonesian cuisine. I agreed little realising what I was getting myself into. The experience of discovering Bali and Indonesia as a whole was a daunting task. The thousands of islands spanning the archipelago are impossible to navigate and explore within the short time that I had. So to cut a long story short, here I am in Bali wandering the streets and visiting all the restaurants and hotels to partake of the delectable pleasures that this predominantly Hindu island has to offer.

This short sojourn through the culinary labyrinth of Indonesian cuisine is like a cursory glance through the kaleidoscope of mouth-watering delicacies.

It’s six o’clock in the morning. The light overnight drizzle has freshened the lush greenery at Amandari, which is awash in the soft golden rays of the morning sun. It a boutique hotel set within Ubud’s Kedewatan village, high above the River gorge. Amandari reflects Bali’s peaceful spirit and the cycles of its ritual expression. Liv Gussin, General Manager, and Gary Tyson, the Executive Chef greet me with warm scones and piping hot Bali coffee at the hotel’s café overlooking their famous infinity swimming pool. Liv is part Indian and Gary a whiz from Oz.

They take me to the local market in Ubud to educate me on the many exotic ingredients that are used in the variations Indonesian cooking. To understand the eating habits of the Balinese is quite an easy task. The daily food of a Balinese represents the simplicity of their way of life. Yet the drama of presentation and the permutations and combinations add spice to the monotony. Some of the dishes that I sampled are: Nasi Campur (mixed rice), Nasi Goreng (Fried rice), Mie Goreng(Fried noodles), Laksa Ayam (Chicken curry), Gado Gado (Vegetables with peanut sauce), Curry Yam (Chicken curry),Satay Ayam (Chicken satay), Satay Babi (Pork satay), Satay Paser (Fish satay), Babi Guling (Suckling pig), Betutu (Smoked Duck) the list is endless and for brevity and coherence I will stop here!

The daily meals are breakfast (Makan Pagi), lunch (Makan Siang) and dinner (Makan Malan).

The staple diet for Makan Pagi is Nasi Campur (Mixed Rice). This dish consists of rice, stir fried chicken, other meats, string beans in coconut or some vegetable with Sambal (sauce). Sambal is made from red chillies, shallots and garlic. But Nasi Campur differs from place to place and even restaurant-to-restaurant. This is what makes the Balinese cuisine so exciting.

For the diehard vegetarians there are numerous preparations of vegetables, Sagu (seaweed jelly), Tahu (tofu), Tempe (soya bean cake), rice in unimaginable colours, shapes, sizes and flavours, and some fruits like Avocadoes, Bananas, Mangoes, Papaya, Snake fruit, Oranges, Strawberries, Grapes, Nangka (jackfruit) and Durian.

Food is a religious obligation and social celebration that is a continuous affair. Balinese treat food with great respect. It is offered to the Gods prior to eating. During the festival of Kuningan, the Babi Guling has pride of place on the table. Babi Guling is stuffed suckling pig. And it has to be specially ordered a few days prior to the festival as demand exceeds supply. The feast commences with a traditional soup called Ares which has a base of young banana stems called Kepok. It is the Balinese version of something like French onion soup. This is followed up by smoked duck or as it is called Betutu. Smoked duck has an aroma that captures the senses and engulfs the diner with the fragrances of spices. The variety of dishes from prawns, fish, pork, chicken, lamb curry, Tempe, Tahu (tofu), salads could be sliced vegetables with Tahu or a fantastic mix of seafood, pork or chicken.

A short list of must eat delicacies from the island paradise.

Nasi Campur – Balinese chicken satay, corn fritters, coconut vegetables and steamed rice.

Nasi Goreng – Fried rice with seasonal vegetables with either chicken or pork.

Mie Goreng – Fried noodles with seasonal vegetables with either chicken or pork.

Laksa Ayam – With Indonesian spices, glass noodles, bean sprouts and fresh herbs.

Gado Gado – Indonesian salad topped with a spicy peanut sauce and tempe.

Curry Yam – Balinese yellow rice with chicken curry.

Satay Ayam – Chicken satay served peanut sauce and sautéed beans in grated coconut.

Satay Babi - Pork satay with peanut sauce and sautéed beans in grated coconut.

Satay Paser – Fish satay with sambal sauce and sautéed beans in grated coconut.

Babi Guling – Suckling pig with sambal sauce and Lawar (sautéed beans and jackfruit with grated coconut).

Betutu - Smoked Duck with sambal and sautéed beans in grated coconut.

Ayam Kalasan – Grilled chicken, marinated in roasted tomato, sweet chilli and kaffir lime with fragrant rice and coconut vegetables.

There is an entire food range that I have not covered like Padang food from Sumatra, which I promise to cover in the next article and this time I will be escorted by the legend of Ubud, Janet de Neefe who runs the world famous Casa Luna Cooking School.

Before I sign off I want to share with you the concept of extreme eating. Probably you may have heard Antony Bourdain talking about or most likely demonstrating how to eat poisonous sea creatures! Anyways, a mate of mine down at Kuta beach went for one of these eating experiences. I will be going next week. Will catch up then with my satay sticks in hand ready to beat on the Warung tables to the tune of sizzling Babi Guling!

Enjoy the spread I have just laid out for you. Enjoy the wonder that is Indonesia.

Terima kasi telah menikmati makananya

(Thank you and hope you enjoyed your meal!)

Jane the hairstylist and her yellow scrambler.

Talking to Jane, a forty something, over dinner the other night, I couldn’t help wondering as to why she ended up as a hairstylist in Bali. Her face is creased. But her blue eyes and sudden gentleness of speech is comforting. Her unmistakable Australian drawl is soothing on the brain.

So what’s the story? I ask her.

She stretches her long legs, leans back and to my astonishment rests them on our dinner table. I look at her disapprovingly. Oh no one cares a xxxx here, the Balinese need the business and I need a break, she drawls. I came here with my Brazilian boyfriend who on arrival took to the streets photographing everything, including the aftermath of the first bomb blast at the Sari Club. He made a killing. Sold them pics to CNN for ten grand, US not Rupiah. After the money ran out his interest in our daily xxxx also ran out. He fancied the Balinese girls. You know, what’s it with these guys? All the men I have met here come for the girls. Some marry and settle down breeding they little off springs. Others just return to where they come from. Us (western women) rarely get lucky with these guys. Probably we are too xxxxx for them. They need that little woman on top them who wriggles and shakes like a fish out of water cooing sweet nothings in a foreign language.

I look embarrassed. What could I say? I didn’t utter a word.

Look at you, what the xxxx are you doing here? She waves to me.

Oh, I reply, just recovering a twenty-year marriage. I came here from New York when I left Calcutta. What I am going to do here I still don’t know. Maybe I’ll travel across the island and meet some of the expats who have become more Balinese than the Balinese themselves.

Don’t tell me you are going to meet them? All I know is that they are a lotta hot air in sarongs, yap, yap, yap that’s all they do, people who are losers in their countries land up here, she says vehemently.

The lady in waiting in a sarong comes over to the table and points at the half eaten food in my plate. You like, yes? Yes I like, I said. Looking down at the chicken Satay I remember what Jane told me an hour ago. She said that imported dogs particularly retrievers were kidnapped and if the ransom was not paid the dog ended up as Satay. Very often the kidnappers didn’t wait for the ransom. They just sold the dog to people who made very nice Satay.

Satay is small-diced pieces of meat neatly skewered on what looks like large sized tooth picks, roasted and then smothered in peanut sauce. Luke warm or cold they are served with Balinese pink rice and sautéed vegetables. A large prawn cracker is used to decorate the dish. It is called Naser Champur and is the popular staple dish on the menu at all Warungs (local Bali restaurants that are clean and hygienic).

Satay served at the Warungs is not dog meat. Some locals at festivals who can’t afford the regular meat like chicken, beef or pork eat the dog meat Satay.

I was speaking to Made the other day. Quite a few men and women are called Made (pronounced as Maaday). This Made is a Man Friday at the Villa Sangah where I have hired a small bungalow in the villa complex. Made told me that the street dogs living in the Villa were not allowed to roam the streets outside prior to a big festival. Often if imported dogs were not available, the locals ones were slaughtered.

At the Villa Sangah there are two street dogs. Xena, a black and white obese xxxxx and the other xxxxx, Jassy, a black mix-Indonesian dog with a blue-black tongue. These two xxxxxxx of Bali keep me company.

Jane punches me playfully on the arm and points to my laptop. Show me what you’re up to, she says, and then starts picking her teeth with the Satay stick. Reluctantly I remove the laptop from its case, place it on the table and put it on. Suddenly, a few of the waitresses rush to our table to look see what’s being shown. One giggles and says, Shahrukh Khan? xxx, you can’t get away from those bloody Bollywood movies!

Glancing through the pics in Photoshop, Jane remarks, you did all this? She seems a bit incredulous. I keep quiet. I am too tired and desperately need another whisky to wash down any glimmer of the past that may suddenly arise and make me puke again.

I come from a very rich family, she says. Dad is an uncouth xxxxxx and has a very sharp tongue. I think he loves me, but he never seems to show it. He’s does import export.

Will you ever go back home to kangaroo land? I ask her, while taking a sip of my whisky on the rocks and scratching myself.

Naa, don’t think so, just want to save money and go to India to buy some jewellery to sell here. Will you help me with your contacts? She looks hesitantly at me.

Yes, of course, I say, and then launch into the whole drama that is India, the depths of despair with doing business in a country I had left months before. She looks at me and strokes my long white hair. Poor chap, she says tenderly, when was your last xxxx?

I am taken aback. I don’t answer. What could I tell her? The truth? That it was a few years back?

I want to have two boyfriends, she says, gazing into my eyes intently. Will you like to be the other one?

I nod my head. She laughs. What’s it with you Indians, you always shake your head in such a manner that no one knows whether you are saying yes or no.

I look past her towards the dark deserted beach and say to myself, I don’t know.

Jane tells me about her yellow scrambler bike and how she bikes around doing the society ladies’ hair: Cutting, curling, blow drying, colouring and sometimes shaving. She likes her job. Her flat with four bedrooms and four ACS are a luxury. She likes her little world. Everything is neat and tidy. But she is getting old and her trembling voice betrays her false bravado. I think the rumbling engine between her legs, warm, reassuring and where she is always in control, is really her comfort zone; the place she feels at peace is on her bike doing her rounds to all the Villas.

The bill arrives. It’s three hundred and fifty thousand Rupiah (US$ 38/-). I pay it and walk out with her.

She jumps into the cab I am sitting in and kisses me with her warm wet open mouth mumbling good-night and then she saunters to her yellow scrambler, puts on her yellow helmet and roars off into the night.

The cabbie asks me, where you go? You follow her?

No! I say, I go Oberoi.

Seminyak?

Yeah, I say, we are on a xxxxxxx island, how many oberois could there be? I say under my breath.

The evening ends with a displaced Indian and a tall Aussie, both marooned eight degrees south of the equator on an island called Bali. Both waiting for something to happen. Waiting.

End of story.

A moveable feast – Janet De Neefe – The Spirit of Bali

I thought I had seen it all…the island of Bali in all its glory…the flowers…the beautiful people…the food…and the sense of Time! I guess I am proved wrong when I drive into Ubud, a hill station of sorts that has the highest concentration in Bali of musicians, artists, writers, restaurateurs, retirees from across the globe, has beens, wannabes and the odd couple. The person I am encouraged to meet by my Balinese Home Stay family is Janet De Neefe.

Wayan, the head of the family, tells me that Ibu Janet is a celebrity in Ubud. Particularly after the work she has being doing for the community in the last five years.Google her and you will be enlightened about this distinguished and accomplished lady from Oz. I don’t…because I want to know the real Janet, the person behind the persona she portrays and so I hesitantly telephone her to seek an interview. A cheerful Aussie voice on the other side greets me with “Om Swastiastu” and promptly confirms lunch the following day at Indus, one of her two popular restaurants, the other being Casa Luna. The night is spent with Wayan and his family drinking Arak (Balinese Toddy), munching on pork satay smothered in peanut sauce, pink Balinese rice, Tempe and a marvellous spread of diced fruit. I like the snake fruit (the skin resembles snakeskin that’s why it’s called snake fruit}. Wayan’s wife, Kadek smiles at me and giggles. In Pidgin English she asks me about Sanjay Dutt. She likes his long legs and the way he dances. “Do you know him”’ she asks me. “Yes” I lie. This is because I don’t know much about Indian Film Stars even though I had lived in Mumbai for a number of years. Suddenly loud music fills the air. Incredulously I hear the theme song from Umrao Jaan. Yes its India, Hindus and film songs that mesmerise the Balinese.

I am an honoured guest in their home. Kadek places her palms on my face and says that we are one as our religion and colour of our skin is the same. What a wonderful thought. People everywhere in Bali greet me with such adoration I feel embarrassed that I haven’t brought a part of India with me to share with them.

The next day I walk down to Indus a short distance away. It is a restaurant that has two levels. The interior is an eclectic mix of a Parisian café, touch of modernism and a sprinkling of Balinese culture. On the walls the bright paintings by Janet compliment the furnishings that are in lustrous shades of red, pink, mauve and orange. The roof is made of alang alang…the typical Balinese grass roof. The open terrace on the far side overlooks the mini valley below. The lush green vegetation soothes the eyes and quietens the soul.Janet is sitting on the terrace on a round café table dressed in her pink lucknavi kurta and slacks wearing Indian chappals on her feet. She smiles and waves to me. I walk over and say namaste to her. She breaks into a grin and says that she had been to India with her Balinese husband Ketut in January this year. Apparently they had visited Delhi, Jaipur and Agra. “The Taj Mahal is like a vestal virgin waiting for the day of reckoning. I was moved to tears. Ketut couldn’t understand why I cried. I felt like I had been there before. The energy, the beauty and the ethereal web that cocooned the Taj were divine.” She gushes and goes on to add, “Yes I also visited Rishikesh and stayed at an ashram.

The following day Ketut and I bathed in the Ganges to cleanse our spirits and seek our Gods blessings. It was so cold and the single rod heater didn’t really help. But the layers of soft cotton quilts under which we slept kept us warm. I felt I had returned to my roots”.“I just love the colours of India, the spicy foods especially street food and the textiles. I wanted to buy everything I saw” she exclaims. There is something bizarre in this conversation. Here is a woman from Oz, dressed in Indian clothes married to a Balinese. She has become a Hindu and an Indonesian citizen with four beautiful children named Dewi, Krishna, Laxmi and Arjuna. Her life is like her interiors…a diverse mix of cultures uniting in harmony. In her I see the spirit of Bali. An acceptance of Life as it is without prejudice. The food she orders arrives on the table. Each plate is decorated like an artwork. The flourish of a leave from watercress placed delicately over each dish is her signature. I hesitate to touch the artwork. She eggs me on to sample the Balinese cuisine laid out especially for me. Wish all you readers were here to partake of this delectable banquet.

I recommend for starters the Grilled Salmon Caesar Salad and for the main course Janet’s favourite dish of Chinese Spinach with chicken and rice. The other dishes I am honoured to taste are: Smoked Marlin and potato salad with salad leaves, avocados and capers in sweet chilli mayonnaise; Balinese seafood Satay on lemon grass, prawns and white fish ground with spices and coconut vegetables. But the piece de resistance is the Betut Bebek (smoked duck), a speciality of Bali and eaten mainly at ceremonies, seasoned with a lively blend of spices and then baked in coconut bark over smouldering coconut coals for a minimum of six hours. A few glasses of Santa Ema Gran Consejo Sauvignon 2004 are an essential accompaniment!After having eaten a meal fit for a king I am confronted with an apparition of sorts, Janet’s very own lime–papaya meringue pie for desert. This is followed by a comforting warm cup of the famous Bali coffee.I can hardly concentrate on the conversation.

I am lulled into the feeling of attaining nirvana, sitting on the terrace overlooking the green expanse below. This is Bali presented by a lady from Oz. This is Bali that comforts the weary and calms the hustle and bustle within us all who come here.Later in the day, I visit her Honey Moon Guest House and also to be a spectator at one of her internationally well-known cooking classes conducted by her, to carry on the interview that was delightfully interrupted by Janet’s culinary extravaganza. The euphemism of Guest House is misplaced. It resembles the Balinese version of an old Indian haveli, the ornate doors, high ceiling and ambience. The manicured lawns, fountains with lotuses, statues of Lord Ganesha and Lord Buddha gracing the gardens and the azure swimming pool make it a paradise for honeymooners.At the Honey Moon Guest House.

I meet Ketut Suardana sitting in his garden playing chess with the local Pamangku (Priest). He is quiet, unassuming and shy. I introduce myself and he breaks into a smile. He asks me to sit down next to him and seeks my opinion on how to play chess. He tells me that Indians were the best chess players. I nod my head in agreement. He laughs and tells his opponent about how Indians nod they heads. Yes I am Noddy in Neverland! There is a saying that behind every successful man stands a woman. In this case it’s the reverse. I ask him what he does and he tells me that he is the Manager of the famous Bali Football Club (International Premier League). With a little encouragement from me he adds that he is also Treasurer of the Ubud Village Council since 1983; Manager, Bali Body Building Association; Manager of other football teams viz. Tunas Muda and the Persegi Football Club. He is designing and building a new hotel a stone’s throw from the present one. And he also assists Janet in running the many businesses they own and operate.He asks me if I had read his wife’s book and without waiting for my reply he goes on to describe the two marriage ceremonies they had: in a church in Melbourne and the other in Bali in traditional Hindu style. He goes on by telling me his love for his wife and how he is content to be behind her supporting every idea she conceives and wants to make into reality. I see in him the depth of his culture and respect for women and their place in his society.

Janet first visited Bali in 1974 when she came here with her parents. The memories of a vibrant and exciting Southeast Asian cuisine and culture lured her back like sirens in a Greek epic. Her childhood recollections of visiting markets with her Maltese grandmother and experiencing the colours, smells and rhythm of life only helped her in her resolve to revisit this island paradise to make it her home.After she gained a BEd in Arts and Crafts at Burwood State College in Melbourne, she decided to take a break from formal education to work in restaurants. She returned to Bali in July 1984 and met her future husband, Ketut, on the second day of her holiday. In the following years, she returned to teaching in Australia, in between spending time in Bali. She taught Balinese cooking at the Council of Adult Education in Melbourne for a brief time, giving up this work to open her first restaurant, Lilies, in Ubud.

In 1989, Janet and Ketut were married. The next year they established the Honeymoon Bakery and Guest House, the name reflecting this happy time for them. In the following years, they opened two more restaurants, Casa Luna and Indus, as well as the Casa Luna Home wares shop and, most recently, an emporium selling Indonesian antiques and textiles.The bombings of 2002 jolted the Balinese and the rest of the world. Janet was devastated by the sheer destruction of life in paradise. She couldn’t comprehend how life could be wiped out by mindless violence, till then an alien concept in Bali. Nothing had prepared her for death in paradise. Along with her husband and the Balinese she cooked free meals and offered comfort to the victims and their relatives.

This incident only brought out her inner strength, the ability to rise up and make a difference in society. To give back to the island what she had taken for so many years. Thus was born The Ubud Writers & Readers Festival.Prior to the first Festival she felt the need to write down for posterity the beauty of her marriage to a culture, to its people and above all to highlight the numerous layers of subtleties that existed in its culinary perfections. Her book Fragrant Rice speaks of the pain after the bombings, the vibrant life she encountered in the markets, families, relatives, customs and rituals.

It is a love story: The Wizardess from Oz falling in love with a Balinese, setting up home, begetting him children, mastering the culinary techniques of Balinese cuisine and further making this into a successful business employing hundreds of locals. Read the book dear readers if you want to be inspired on how to appreciate the intrinsic values of family, food and yes love that so many of us have lost in the race to catch the morning train to work.She narrates one incident after her marriage when she was taking stock of her presents her husband walked into the room and announced that nothing belonged to them but to the community in which they lived, the people who had helped out in the ceremony. Most of the presents were given away except for some odd bits and pieces.

This incident showed her the true spirit of the Balinese. The island didn’t belong to her. She belonged to Bali. Suddenly, she moves her shoulders from side to side and giggles uncontrollably. I guess the Chilean wine is doing its work. That’s what I thought till she announces that she was an usherette at Her Majesty’s Theatre in Melbourne many moons ago, a witness to some of the greatest performances including those by Barry Humphrey’s. Her training in ballet, tap dancing and jazz ballet was a delight. She earned ribbons in Irish Dancing. It’s show time folks! Hah! That’s what Rod Steiger said in All That Jazz, I guess the same applies here albeit with a touch of Bali mania.

Now back to the Ubud Writers & Readers’ Festival that was launched by Janet in 2004. The conception was based on the premise that the festival would instigate the economic recovery of the island. It also attempted to showcase Indonesian writers with the aim of eventually translating more Indonesian works into English so that they could be introduced in to mainstream international literary circles. Of course, the numerous children’s workshops only helped in dispelling all notions that it was an elitist festival.Each festival increased awareness of the intricate diversities of cultures fusing in art to become one in thought. The myriad faces of the international attendances mingling with the Indonesian Diaspora brought about cohesion of purpose, to see the planet as one global village where the leaders of social development, political peace and creative soothsayers combined to make a concerted effort to bridge the adversities and to translate them into commonalities of purpose and hope.

The growing attendances from festival to festival were encouraging. In it reflected an inert goodness in mankind to throw away the hatred of generations accumulated by our ancestors, to cloak our selves in a brave new world of perseverance for peace, religious harmony and respect for diverse cultures.Without the benign assistance of the Indonesian Government and the tremendous work done by the Balinese Community as a whole Janet could never have achieved such worldwide recognition for the festival.

Today according to Harper’s Bazaar it is one of the top six literary festivals in the world. And this is just the fourth year since its inception! Her life in Bali reflects the true nature of this wonderful country, the unity in its diversity: The fact that though it has the largest Muslim population in the world, yet it is a Republic. Equal rights to all who live within this great country… Indonesia Zindabad (Long Live Indonesia!).If perchance you meet Janet De Neefe and her gracious husband Ketut Suardana say Namaste to them. And when they reply Om Swastiastu fold your hands and bow your head ever so gently. Peace to all and happiness to those who bring love with them.

For, as John Lennon said, Love is all we have.A word of advice, leave your hang ups behind and bring all the love you have. And if you don’t have it you’ll find it here. Trust me.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om

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Where does one begin to unravel the past? Do I speak of education in college. Or, of the professional work I have done? It’s confusing living life as it is to commence a story that most of us are not really interested in! Suffice to say I have been in the wilderness for over 28 years spanning continents, friends and the odd lie. The buck stops here on this site. Today the truth begins, anthology of a life worn by the myriad faces of the past scurrying for an identity. Patience with me dear reader. Humour me. I need your attention and views. Write in when you have read what I have written and share the life within you and teach me how to be a better human being. – marculyseas