Laksa Betawi

 

Laksa Betawi is an Indonesian variation (more specifically from Jakarta--Batavia--which is the center of Betawi culture) of curry laksa or laksa lemak which is popular in Singapore and Malaysia.  Less spicy and simpler than its cousins across the straits, laksa Betawi is a lush, savory soup.  Made with coconut milk, it is richer than soto ayam, the chicken soup that is popular throughout the archipelago, but not quite as rich as opor ayam.

Like soto ayam, laksa Betawi is a meal in itself.  Usually served with lontong, it contains both chicken and shrimp.  The shrimp may be dried (ebi), or fresh.  In Indonesia it includes kemangi, lemon basil, but here in Northern California kemangi can only be found during the summer months, so I substituted Thai basil.  Rau ram (Vietnamese coriander, daun laksa in Malay), which is the herb of choice for curry laksa, would also be an acceptable substitute.  While it does not call for chiles in the broth, it would typically be served with a sambal, allowing each diner to spice it up to her preferred level of spiciness.

Laksa Betawi

printable recipe

1/2 chicken, preferably free-range, cut into 4 pieces
8 oz medium shrimp, peeled and deveined,  shells reserved.
2 salam leaves
1 stalk of lemongrass, crushed with side of a cleaver or a pestle
1/2 inch cinnamon
2 whole cloves
1 can of coconut milk (I prefer Chaokoh brand)
4 cups of water
2 TBS vegetable oil

Spice Paste
4 oz/120 gr peeled shallots (Indonesian recipes usually call for a certain number of shallots, but Indonesian shallots tend to be uniformly small, about the size of two garlic cloves.  In the US, sometimes you can find the smaller shallots, but more often much larger ones are available.)
5 cloves garlic, peeled
4 kemiri
1 inch fresh tumeric, peeled
1 1/2 tsp coriander seeds
1 TBS salt

To complete the bowls
2 cups beansprouts
4 oz rice vermicelli, cooked
2 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and quartered lengthwise
Kemangi, Thai basil, or laksa leaves

Grind the spice paste ingredients until you have a fairly smooth paste.  In a large pot, heat the vegetable oil and stir-fry the spice paste until fragrant.  Add the shrimp shells and the pieces of chicken.  Lightly brown the chicken before adding the salam leaves, lemongrass, cinnamon, cloves, coconut milk, and water.  Simmer, covered, about 45 minutes, until the chicken is cooked and can be easily shredded. 

Remove the chicken from the broth.  When it has cooled enough for you to handle it, remove the meat from the bones and pull into shreds.  Add the shrimp to the simmering broth and cook just until done.

When you are ready to eat, place some vermicelli, shrimp, chicken, and beansprouts into individual bowls.  Ladle the hot broth over the ingredients.  Add the kemangi or basil leaves and a slice or two of the hard-boiled eggs. 

You may choose to serve this with slices of lontong in place of, or in addition to, the rice vermicelli.

Lumpia Basah Khas Bandung--Fresh Lumpia Bandung Style

In the United States, most people think of Filipino-style fried lumpia when they hear of lumpia. Long, thin spring rolls packed with pork and shrimp and fried until crisp, Filipino spring rolls are delicious, but they are a totally different animal than these fresh lumpia from Bandung in West Java.  Lumpia basah are more akin to the popiah you can find in Malaysia and Singapore.  Essentially a crepe with a sweet/savory filling of jicama, beansprouts, and eggs, these are a cheap, satisfying snack hawkers sell in Bandung.

As they are not fried, lumpia basah could be considered a healthful snack.  With bean sprouts and jicama both being low in calories and relatively high in fiber, these lumpia can be enjoyed without feeling guilty.  The various components of the lumpia can be prepared ahead of time, but they should not be assembled until shortly before you eat them.  If they are assembled and rolled hours ahead of time, the wrappers are prone to split and come apart. 

Although you could purchase the lumpia wrappers from an Asian market (look for "pastry wrappers" made in the Philippines in the frozen section) making your own is not difficult.  The frozen ones are very thin, but they also are more brittle, without the flexibility of fresh wrappers.  The recipe I use for the skins does not produce as thin a wrapper as the commercial ones, but Tjing prefers it to the frozen ones.

Lumpia Basah Khas Bandung--Fresh Lumpia, Bandung Style

printable recipe

For the wrappers

1 1/3 cups (200 grams) all-purpose flour
3/4 cup + 2 TBS (200 ml) water
2/3 cup egg whites (5 to 6)
1 tsp salt

In a medium bowl, mix together the flour and salt.  With a whisk, stir in the egg whites. Then add half the water, stirring until fairly smooth.  Whisk in the remaining water and continue stirring for about five minutes.  Set the mixture aside and allow to rest for at least 40 minutes.

Heat a non-stick frying pan over medium-low heat.  Lightly brush with oil.  Ladle enough batter in to form an 8-inch crepe, using the bottom of the ladle to spread the mixture as needed.  As soon as the edges begin to lift from the pan, flip the crepe and cook briefly on the other side.  Each crepe should take about 25 to 30 seconds total.  Continue until all the batter is used.  This should make around 10 wrappers.

For the filling

1 jicama (about 1 pound/ 450 grams) peeled and cut into matchsticks
2 cups beansprouts
2 eggs, lightly beaten
3 1/2 ounces (100 grams) palm sugar (gula jawa), grated
1/3 cup water
1 tsp +/- salt
2 TBS tapioca starch
7 cloves of garlic, pounded to a paste
1 tsp ground white pepper
2 TBS oil

In a large pan that will hold the jicama easily, dissolve the palm sugar in the water and bring to a boil. Remove two tablespoons of this syrup and mix with the tapioca starch in a small bowl.  Add the jicama to the remaining sugar mixture and stir to coat well.  Cook over medium heat until the liquid is absorbed, and the jicama has softened and browned.

Heat a wok or large frying pan.  Add the oil and stir-fry the garlic and white pepper until fragrant.  Stir in the beaten eggs and scramble them.  After eggs are lightly scrambled, stir in the cooked jicama.  Cook for a minute or two before adding the beansprouts and salt.  Taste and adjust the seasonings if necessary.  As soon as the beansprouts begin to become limp, transfer the mixture to a bowl.

To assemble the lumpia, spread the bottom half of a wrapper with a spoonful of the tapioca starch thickened syrup.  Place a generous amount of the filling atop the wrapper.  Fold and roll like a burrito, folding in the two sides and then rolling until enclosed.  If you like, you can cut them into three or four pieces, but I think they're best enjoyed by scarfing the lumpia whole, bite by bite.

Sop Buntut--Indonesian Oxtail Soup

Sop buntut is not my favorite Indonesian dish.  It is, however, extremely popular on Java.  It is a soup that is at once hearty and delicate, the oxtails being a rich, surprisingly fatty meat, yet the broth is light and fragrant with spice.  As with Vietnamese Pho Bo, it is the broth that is the mark of a good sop buntut.

The broth should be clear and fragrant, not muddied from simmering the ox tail.  The spices--cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, pepper--should flavor the soup as the flute accents Sundanese gamelan.  Carrots and potatoes are included with the broth.  In most recipes the potatoes are simply added to the broth towards the end of the cooking.  I like James Oseland's method of frying the potatoes before adding them to the broth at the end.  It provides another note to the soup.

My wife, Tjing, is not much of a beef eater, but she does like sop buntut.  While oxtails are a cheaper cut in Indonesia, here in the US oxtails are relatively expensive.  I'm sure most Indonesians would consider it shocking that a kilogram of oxtails goes for around 95,000 Rp.  Considering the amount of bone and fat you get, they are definitely not a bargain.  Still, happy wife, happy life, so if Tjing wants some oxtail soup, that's fine with me.

Sop Buntut--Indonesian Oxtail Soup

(adapted from Cradle of Flavor)

 printable recipe

2 1/2 pounds oxtails, cut into sections at the vertebrae
3 quarts water
1 2-inch piece of ginger, peeled and bruised
1 piece cinnamon stick
7 cloves
1 whole nutmeg, cracked into several pieces
1 tsp black pepper, freshly ground
1 TBS sugar
2 tsp salt
3--4 carrots, peeled and sliced on the diagonal about 1/4-inch thick
3--4 yukon gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
1--2 ripe tomatoes (I used cherry tomatoes), sliced into wedges
1 stalk of Chinese celery (seledri), finely chopped
2 green onions, white part only, thinly sliced
2 TBS fried shallots
2 TBS fried garlic slices
peanut or vegetable oil for frying the potatoes

In a large soup pot, bring the oxtails and water to a steady boil over high heat.  Use a spoon or a fine mesh skimmer to skim off any foam that rises to the surface.  After you have removed as much foam as possible, reduce the heat to medium-low and add the ginger.  Cover and simmer for about an hour.

Next, add the spices, including the sugar and salt, to the pot and continue to simmer, covered, for another 30--45 minutes.  The meat should be just beginning to come away from the bones.  Taste the broth and add salt to taste.

While the broth simmers, prepare the carrots and potatoes.  Bring a medium-sized saucepan of water to a boil.  Add the carrots and boil until just tender, two to three minutes.  Drain them in a colander and rinse with cold water.

Lightly fry the potatoes until they are light brown.  They should be just cooked through the center.  Drain on paper towels.

To serve, place some oxtail, carrots, and potatoes in a bowl.  Ladle in some hot broth.  Top with some wedges of ripe tomato.  Sprinkle with the fried shallots, fried slices of garlic, sliced green onion, and chopped Chinese celery.

Serve with rice and sambal.  Emping melinjo (melinjo crackers) are a nice accompaniment.

Nasi Tim Ayam Jamur--Steamed Rice with Chicken and Mushrooms

Nasi tim ayam jamur is a dish that qualifies for Indonesian comfort food.  A Chinese influenced dish, it is not widely seen on menus outside of Java.  In fact, it's a dish I don't recall seeing very often in restaurants on Java.  If you do encounter it, it's likely to be in a city with a fairly sizeable Tionghoa population.

It is not a difficult dish to prepare, and it has the added benefit of being a dish that can be assembled ahead of time and served when you are ready.  It can be made as a communal dish or in individual servings.  Traditionally it might be served with acar (a cucumber and carrot pickle), but since I had recently made some do chua (Vietnamese pickled carrot and daikon), I served it with that.  A quick stir fry of caisim (choy sum) with chilies and garlic completed the meal.

I used a whole chicken in preparing this dish, using the breast for this dish, the wings and legs for some ayam pong teh, and the backbone and ribs to make the chicken stock.  Tjing doesn't care for chicken breast usually, so this is one way to make it palatable for her.  You could, of course, just buy some boneless, skinless chicken breast (or thighs), and use some canned low-sodium chicken broth instead of making your own.

Nasi Tim Ayam Jamur

printable recipe

1 whole boneless, skinless chicken breast
2 cups rice, rinsed and drained
4 cups chicken stock (divided)
1/2 lb fresh mushrooms (in Indonesia, fresh straw mushrooms are the mushroom of choice, but you may choose to use oyster, button, shitake, or other mushrooms--I used shimeiji, Japanese brown beech mushrooms, because they were available and cheap)
4 TBS oil (approximately)
5 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely minced
1-inch slice of ginger, peeled and finely minced
1/2 tsp ground white pepper
2 TBS oyster sauce
2 TBS kecap manis (sweet soy sauce)
1 TBS kecap asin (regular soy sauce)
4 green onions, sliced

Cut the chicken into small cubes.  Chop the mushrooms so that they're about the same size as the pieces of chicken.  Heat a wok or skillet over medium high heat and add about 2 tablespoons of oil.  When the oil is shimmering, add the ginger and garlic and fry briefly, not allowing them to brown. Stir in the chicken and fry for about a minute before adding the mushrooms.  Add the oyster sauce, kecap manis, kecap asin and white pepper.  Cook for about a minute longer.  Remove from heat.

In a sauce pan, heat 2 tablespoons of oil over medium high heat.  Stir in the rice.  Stir well, making sure all the grains get coated with oil.  Add 2 1/2 cups of the chicken stock.  Stir and bring to a boil.  Once the stock comes to a boil, cover and remove from heat.  Allow the rice to absorb the liquid, about 10 or 15 minutes.

In heat proof bowls (you may choose which size you prefer--I have used both 1 1/2 cup ramekins and 3/4 cup ramekins) place a layer of the chicken mushroom mixture on the bottom.  Top this with a layer of rice to the top of the ramekin or bowl.  Spoon an additional tablespoon or two of the chicken broth over the top.  Place the filled bowls in a steamer and steam for 15 minutes.  The bowls may be filled earlier in the day (or a day earlier) and steamed when you are ready for dinner. 

To serve, invert a plate over the top of a ramekin.  Holding on tightly to both, flip them over, tap on the ramekin, and the chicken and rice should release, forming a mound of deliciousness on the plate.
Traditionally, a cup of the broth seasoned with the slices of green onion is served along with the rice.

Screw It! We're Doing Beanie Weinies Java Style for Dinner

The weather affects my mood.  My normally bubbling cheerfulness gruff forbearance, becomes downright grim when winter stretches through spring. The first week in June and Sacramento hasn't even seen the 90s.  We had a week of cold rain and tornadoes--in June, in northern California.  June usually finds me struggling to be heard over the roar of the rattling air conditioner in my classroom.  Monday the radiators were gurgling with steam.  Anyone tries to be perky around me these days--I'll gut them, make them eat their own livers. 

After putting together all the dishes for my 24 x 24 entry last week, I was looking for something less taxing.  Normally, I would be grilling in June.  The weather has put me in such a funk that I decided to go old school, cooking some baked beans with some homemade beef dogs.  I made the hot dogs earlier and had to find a way to use them up.  They were good dogs, smoky with a good snap, but how many hot dogs can a person eat?

Beanie weinies--a favorite of my brother-in-law, PapaBob--is a traditional American comfort food.  Baked beans with bacon (or salt pork) and hot dogs in a sweet sauce are a great dish for a cold, wet winter day.  So it's June; I don't care anymore. The days are dark and the rain is puddling in the streets. 

Baked beans call for cornbread. Cathy, over at Gastronomy, had a posting featuring some cornbread muffins recently. They got me salivating.  I had some corn to use up, so I decided to make up my own batch.  They didn't turn out quite as cheesy as I'd like, but they were very good.  Even with the miserable weather I managed to improve my mood. 

 

Soon we'll be in the 100s.  Good.  Great.  Bring on the heat.  As good as the beanie weinies and cornbread muffins were, I'd  prefer not to have an excuse to eat them until November.  It's time for margaritas and grilled meats.

Javanese Beanie Weanies

printable recipe

1 lb. small white beans, soaked overnight in 10 cups water

1 onion, peeled and diced

1/2 lb. bacon, cut in 1/2 inch pieces

1/4 cup kecap manis

1 cup coffee

1 cup pineapple juice

100 grams gula merah or dark brown sugar

3/4 cup tomato ketchup

2 tsp mustard

6 to 8 hot dogs, sliced in 1 inch pieces

In a 6 quart pot, fry the bacon until it is maybe half way cooked.  Add the onion and cook until softened.  Drain the beans, reserving the water.  Stir in soaked beans and the remaining ingredients except for the hot dogs.  Add reserved water to cover by about 1/2 an inch.  Cover the pot with foil and bake in 300º F oven for 5 to 6 hours, stirring every 90 minutes or so.  

Add sliced hot dogs and cook for another 30 to 45 minutes.  If beans are too liquid, remove the foil.  If too dry, add more of the reserved water, stir well and cook longer.  Serve with rice or cornbread.

The cornbread muffins recipe is adapted from Dorie Greenspan's which I found at  Serious Eats.

Corny Cornbread Muffins with Bacon, Jalapeño and Cheese

printable recipe

1 cup yellow corn meal

1 cup all purpose flour

2 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2  tsp baking soda

kernels from 2 ears of corn, or 1 cup of frozen kernels

4 slices of bacon, cooked until crisp, crumbled

4 jalapeño peppers, seeded and diced

1 cup grated cheddar cheese

6 TBS sugar

1 tsp salt

1 cup buttermilk

1 whole egg

1 egg yolk

3 TBS bacon grease

3 TBS vegetable oil

Preheat oven to 400º F.  Grease or spray 12 muffin standard muffin pan with no-stick cooking spray.

In a large bowl, stir together all the dry ingredients.  In a large measuring cup mix the liquid ingredients together, beating the egg and egg yolk to mix thoroughly.  Add corn, cheese and bacon to the flour mixture.  Pour in liquid mixture and stir to make a thick batter.  Ladle or pour the batter into the prepared muffin pan.  Bake in middle of the preheated oven for 15--18 minutes until done.  Cool muffins on a wire rack.

Soto Mie

Soto is found in numerous forms throughout Indonesia.  Soto ayam, chicken soto, which has numerous varieties itself, is my favorite soto.  The very best soto I've ever had comes, of course, from Rumah Makan Murni in Cepu.  In my two years of living in Cepu, I probably had soto ayam at RM Murni at least three times a week.  I've had good soto elsewhere in Indonesia, but none better than what is served in Cepu.

This past summer we visited my wife's brother's family in Jakarta.  While I am about as fond of Jakarta as I am of Los Angeles, one of Jakarta's attractions is its culinary mix from groups throughout the archipelago who come to the capital in search of livelihoods.  The massive influx of citizens from throughout Indonesia has created pockets of distinct cultures and hawkers selling their foods.  Unfortunately, traffic is so horrendous in Jakarta that this pockets are about as accessible as the interior of Kalimantan.

Like many folk living in Jakarta, my in-laws generally eat out at least once a day.  Cooking in a cramped kitchen over a two-burner propane stove is not just wearisome, it is hellish in a house without AC.  A quick stir-fry, boiled eggs, fried chicken,  or soups might be prepared early in the day to be enjoyed by the family later, but no meal is prepared to be eaten just after being cooked.  And when guests impose themselves on the family, there is little choice but to go out to eat.

As an air conditioner sales representative, installer, and service technician, my brother-in-law, Ming, knows Jakarta and the surrounding areas well.  He is without a doubt the best driver I've ever ridden with and seemingly knows all the back alleys and short cuts throughout Jakarta.  In the course of learning all the arteries of the city, Ming has also discovered remarkable warungs and restaurants.  One day he told us he had a job that he had to check on outside of the city, a new housing development on the ever expanding outskirts of the megalopolis.  If we wanted to come, he said, there was a rumah makan that sold excellent soto mie.  

Soto mie is an interesting soup.  Consisting of a spicy beef broth with noodles, cabbage, seledri (Asian celery), and sliced risoles that have been filled with rice vermicelli and fried, it's a dish anyone trying to stretch a rupiah might enjoy, the risoles being cheap yet flavorful while adding some additional body to the soup.  It's also a dish that suits the cooler clime of Bogor where it is said to have originated.  Although I still much prefer soto ayam, soto mie will definite get some play during the fall and winter months here in northern California.

The recipe is adapted from 668 Resep Masakan Khas Nusantara dari 33 Provinsi by Yullia T and Astuti Utomo.  (PT Agromedia Pustaka, 2008)

Soup base

150 grams shallots, roughly chopped

6 cloves garlic

1 tsp black pepper

6 kemiri (candlenuts)  dry roasted, unsalted macadamia nuts may be substituted

2 salam leaves

1 stalk of lemongrass, cut in half and lightly crushed

1 2-inch piece of ginger, crushed

2 quarts beef broth made from the beef ribs

salt to taste

11/2 lbs beef back ribs

12 oz fresh noodles, cooked and drained

1/4 head of cabbage, thick core removed, finely sliced

6 risols, sliced into 1 1/2 slices

3 stalks of seledri, finely sliced

1 green onion, finely sliced

emping goreng (fried melinjo crackers--these may be found, unfried, in Asian markets)

sambal

In a 4 to 6 quart pan, brown ribs on all sides.  Add 3 quarts water and bring to a boil.  Simmer for several hours until meat can be easily pulled from the bones.  Remove fat from the broth.  Cut meat into small, bite-sized pieces.

In food processor or blender, puree shallots, garlic, pepper and kemiri.  Fry this paste along with lemongrass, salam leaves and ginger until softened and fragrant.  Add beef both, bring to a boil and reduce to a low simmer while preparing risols.

Once risols have been filled and fried, assemble the soup.  Place some noodles, cabbage, beef, and tomato slices in individual bowls.  Add simmering broth, sliced risoles and a scattering of seledri and green onion.  Serve with emping and sambal.

Risole filling

80 grams rice vermicelli, softened in hot water, drained

2 cloves garlic, finely minced

1/4 tsp white pepper

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp instant chicken broth (optional)

1/4 cup water

risol wrappers/eggroll skins

oil for shallow frying

Risole skins

1 cup flour

11/2 cups water

1 egg

1 TBS oil

1/2 tsp baking powder

Beat all the ingredients for the risole skins together.  You want a thin batter.  Add more water if necessary to thin the batter.  Fry like crepes in non-stick frying pan or crepe pan.  

To make the filling, briefly fry the garlic until softened and fragrant.  Add remaining ingredients and cook until the water has been absorbed/evaporated.

Place a couple tablespoons of filling into a risole skin. Roll like eggroll/burrito/cha gio and shallow fry filled rolls (several rolls can be fried at a time) until golden brown on all sides. 

Potato Rendang

One of my favorite Indonesian dishes is beef rendang.  I've posted previously about the first time I had rendang in Indonesia, and what a revelatory experience that was.   There is truly something magical about homemade rendang in Indonesia.  Although I think I dish up a very decent rendang myself, it's not the same as rendang made with fresh coconut milk.  Even when using canned coconut milk, rendang is not a fast food; it takes time.  Like risotto, it cannot be rushed.  But for those willing to put in the time, the payoff is worth it.

In Indonesia I had beef rendang on a fairly regular basis, and had had chicken rendang a few times.  As I mentioned before, the first time I had rendang it had liver as well as beef.  However, that first plate of rendang was so delicious I didn't mind the liver (terribly). While I had rendang somewhat regularly, in all my time in Indonesia I never had potato rendang.  I thought the recipe odd when I came across it in James Oseland's Cradle of Flavor.  Why make rendang without some meat?  It seemed wrong.

My wife also thought it seemed wrong.  "Put some shrimp in it.  Put some chicken in it. Where is this recipe from?  I've never heard of such a thing!"  My wife is from Kediri, also known as Kota Tahu--Tofu City.  She and our niece tried to persuade me to add some animal protein to the dish.

I held out against adding meat.  As much as I savor the cooked flesh of sentient beings, there are times I think it doesn't add to a dish.  There are times when less is more.

Potato rendang is a dish that requires no meat.  There is a richness to it, an expansiveness, that transports it beyond a simple potato curry.  It's remarkable how the rendang base, which is very close to the base used in beef rendang, infuses the potatoes with an other worldly piquancy. 

I served these potatoes with stir fried pea shoots and rice.  Although it might seem odd to most westerners to serve rice with potatoes, the rice helps tame some of the chili heat of the dish.  The greens help balance the richness of the rendang.  While I resisted my housemates call for meat, this would make a nice side to some simple roast chicken or a grilled pork tenderloin. Because of the time it takes to cook rendang, I doubled the recipe that is in Oseland's book.  I also added a few kemiri.  People who shy away from spicy food might want to cut back on the number of chilies. 

Potato Rendang
adapted from Cradle of Flavor

3 pounds of baby yukon gold or fingerling potatoes (about 1-inch in diameter)
40 ounces of coconut milk
3 stalks of fresh lemongrass, white and pale green parts only, chopped
8 shallots (about 6 ounces) chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
8 fresh red chilies, stemmed, seeded, and chopped
10 fresh green, or green and red, Thai chilies, stemmed, seeded, and chopped
4 tsp fresh turmeric, peeled and chopped  (or 3 tsps ground)
1/4 cup  fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
3 TBS fresh laos, peeled and chopped
4 kemiri (candlenuts, optional)

5 daun salam leaves (optional)
4 to 6 stems fresh kemangi (preferred), or Thai basil
1 1/2 tsp kosher salt
peanut oil, as needed

First, reduce the coconut milk slightly by simmering over low heat for about 15 to 20 minutes.  Oil from the coconut milk should begin to appear on the surface.

While reducing the coconut milk, make the spice paste.  In a small food processor, mix together the lemongrass, shallots, garlic, chilies, turmeric, ginger,  laos, and kemiri.  Pulse until you have a smooth paste.  There should not be any large chunks of any of the spices.  If there are, continue to pulse, adding a tablespoon or so of the coconut milk to facilitate the process.

Add the spice paste, salam leaves, and kemangi to the simmering coconut milk and stir to combine.  Allow to simmer uncovered, stirring occasionally to prevent the bottom from scorching, until the liquid has reduced by about half.  This could take from 45 minutes to over an hour.  Be patient and don't try to rush it by cooking at too high of a heat, for this will cause the coconut to boil and possibly separate and curdle.

While the coconut milk is simmering, wash and scrub the potatoes. Cut them about half way through to allow the flavors from the rendang base to penetrate. 

After the coconut milk has reduced by about half, add the prepared potatoes and salt to the mixture, and stir well.  Cook the potatoes in this  liquid until the liquid  has reduced and become thick.  Stir often to keep the potatoes and liquid from sticking to the bottom of the pan.  It will probably be necessary to add a little peanut oil  as the paste becomes thicker. 

Reduce the heat to low and saute the potatoes in the rendered oils and fats, stirring frequently.  You really need to pay attention at this point and continue to cook until the paste turns a rich, fairly dark brown.  It does not become as dark as beef rendang, but it is not too light either. 

Oseland recommends allowing the dish to rest at least 30 minutes before serving to allow the flavors to intensify. Bir Bintang in a glass with a large chunk of ice would be the perfect accompaniment to a meal with these potatoes.

Ayam Goreng Mbok Berek

Like most people who have had the pleasure, I fell in love with ayam goreng mbok berek the first time I tasted it. This was in 1983 on my first visit to Yogya. Not really a big fan of American fried chicken, and certainly no fan of the Colonel, I didn't expect much. Colleagues and students had recommended I try the famous chicken, so I did.

It wasn't until I had been to Vietnam and had Thit Heo Kho (Ravenous Couple have a nice recipe here) that this recipe made sense to me. When I lived in Indonesia, I had had chicken simmered in coconut milk before being fried countless times. This is a common way of preparing fried chicken in Indonesia. It also results in moist, flavorful fried chicken. Although I am fond of drinking young coconut, I didn't think simmering the chicken in the water from young coconut would be much different from simmering in plain water. Yet, if you've ever had the pleasure of having thit heo kho simmered in coconut water, you know the magic of the medium.



The water from young coconuts is subtly sweet, not in a sugary way, but with the freshness of a recent rain. It's like drinking in the day after the first rain in weeks. In Java young coconuts are a dime a dozen, but here in the States they cost a little more. The concentrated stock that one gets after simmering the chicken in the coconut water is heavenly. It would be the ideal base for a bowl of mulligatawny soup.

Although young coconuts are not commonly found in major supermarkets, most Asian supermarkets and Whole Foods carry them. You do want to make sure you use a young coconut and not the more mature ones.



I haven't been able to recreate the crispy bits you get when you buy the chicken in Yogya. Robyn Eckhardt of Eating Asia had an informative article in the Wall Street Journal in which she identifies the crisp bits as deep fried spices from the coconut water stock the chicken is first simmered in, but I've been unable to get them to taste quite like what I remember. Even without those crumbs, this chicken is better than any other fried chicken you are likely to taste any time soon.

Besides some good rice, one other accompaniment this dish really calls for is a good sambal terasi. The heat and pungency of this sambal really complements the richness of the fried chicken. At the restaurant they also serve the chicken with the sambal lalapan (sambal with raw cabbage and other vegetables) and the side is every bit as popular as the chicken. I will be posting the sambal recipe soon.



Ayam Goreng Mbok Berek
adapted from Sri Owen's Indonesian Food and Cookery

1 young chicken, preferably free range and air chilled, quartered
or chicken thighs, wings, and drumsticks
6 shallots, coarsely chopped
2 inches of ginger, peeled, sliced, and pounded
2 inches of laos (galingale), peeled, sliced, and pounded
1 tsp coriander, coarsely ground in a mortar
2 salam leaves
salt and pepper
3-4 cups of coconut water from two young coconuts

oil for frying

Mix shallots, spices and salam leaves with coconut water in wok or saucepan. Add chicken pieces and simmer briskly for 30 minutes or so, until tender. The coconut water should be reduced by about half. Remove the chicken from the liquid and allow to cool.

After the chicken has cooled and dried, deep fry it until it is golden brown. The frying does not take very long because the chicken is essentially already cooked; the frying is done to crisp up the chicken and give it some color. Once fried, the chicken can be eaten warm or cold. Serve with rice and a good sambal.

Semur Daging--Javanese Beef Stew (of a sort)

My mother makes a very good beef bourguignon, as well as a killer beef stroganoff. They were dishes I always looked forward to while I was growing up (and anytime she makes them now when I am fortunate enough to be there for dinner). But my wife doesn't care for beef much, so I don't cook it too often. When I do, I usually cook rendang, empal, rawon, or some other Indonesian dish. Semur is one of those Indonesian beef dishes that my wife enjoys.

Although commonly perceived as being spicy, a lot of Indonesian food is not particularly hot. Very often heat is introduced in the form of sambal, a chile based sauce. A typical serving of nasi rames might have a meat dish, a vegetable dish, tempe or tofu, a boiled egg, rice and a selection of sambals. Semur is one of those Indonesian dishes that incorporates several indigenous spices but forgoes the heat of chilies. It is a relatively easy stew-like dish that can be served as a main course to a simple family meal, or be a part of a multi-dish ristaffel.

Likely a Dutch-influenced dish ("smoor" meaning to smother in Dutch), semur is a slow braised stew redolent with spices that made Indonesia such a colonial prize. There are countless variations to semur, and the spices used reflect the cook's cultural background. In as much as my wife is ethnic Chinese from Java, the recipe I use contains star anise as well as cloves and cinnamon, which may not be found in other recipes. My wife also insists semur needs to have cellophane noodles, though I haven't seen them listed in other recipes. In short, semur invites you to tailor the dish to your own personal tastes and preferences.

Semur Daging

2 1/2 to 3 pounds boneless beef chuck, cut into 1-inch cubes
3/4 cup minced shallots
2 TBS oil
2 TBS minced ginger
1 1/2 tsp minced laos
1/2 nutmeg, grated
2--4 star anise
1 3 to 4-inch piece of cinnamon
5 cloves, ground
2 tsp salt
2 salam leaves
4 cups water
4 TBS kecap manis
2 tsp vinegar
3 roma tomatoes, cut in 1/2-inch dice
2 to 3 yukon gold potatoes, sliced crosswise 1/2-inch thick
1 bundle cellophane noodles, softened in hot water
3--4 hard boiled eggs, peeled

Fry the shallots in the oil about a minute. Stir in the ginger, laos, nutmeg, star anise, cinnamon, cloves, and salt. Add the beef, stir and cook for another five minutes or so. Pour in the water, add the kecap manis and salam leaves, and bring to a boil. Cover and simmer on low for an hour to an hour and a half, until the beef is tender.

Some people add the potatoes raw and let them cook in the stew. I like to brown them by lightly frying them first and adding them the last fifteen minutes of cooking, along with the tomatoes and eggs. Add the cellophane noodles near the end of the cooking time.

Just before serving, stir in the vinegar. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Tahu Telor

Tahu telor is Indonesian comfort food at its finest--simple, quick, and delicious. It's a dish I invariably order when I find it on a menu here as I consider it a reliable benchmark of the cook's hand with Indonesian food.  Too ofen it is served as a Thai omelet folded over tofu and covered with the insipid peanut butter glop that is universally served as an accompaniment to everything from any variety of sate to gado gado.  That glop is the equivalent to the "cheeze sauce" pumped from such fine dining establishments as gas station stores, football stadiums, and traveling amusement parks.  At least half the appeal of a good serving of tahu telor is the sambal kacang that tops it.  It should be savory, sweet, and have a hint of heat to it.

I make a version of tahu telor that is lighter than traditional.  I partially whip the whites to not quite soft peaks before mixing in the yolks.  Sometimes I will lightly fry the cubes of tofu before adding them to the eggs; sometimes I don't.  I actually prefer the tofu lightly fried, but this is a dish that doesn't call for fussiness.  Topped with bean sprouts and served with cucumber acar if you like (I don't), tahu telor is the basis for a perfect light meal.

Tahu Telor

Five eggs, separated

Two blocks of tofu (about 10 oz total), cut in 3/4 inch cubes

Pinch of salt

1 clove of garlic, minced

2--3 TBS oil

Whip the egg whites until you almost have soft peaks.  Beat in yolks.  Fold in tofu and season with salt.  Heat oil over medium heat in 9-inch frying pan.  Add garlic, add egg mixture before garlic browns.  Cook until eggs set.  Flip the the omelet over (make sure the whole omelet is able to slide freely in the pan before giving a little flip of the writst to turn the whole omelet over).  If only half the egg flips over, turn the rest over with a spatula.  Serve topped with bean sprout and sambal kacang.

Sambal Kacang

(adapted from The Indonesian Kitchen by Copeland Marks and Mintari Soeharjo)

2 TBS peanut butter (I prefer Laura Scudder, chunky grind)

2 TBS water

4 TBS kecap manis (sweet soy sauce)

1 large clove of garlic

2 tsp tamarind water

2 tsp sugar

1 tsp sambal oelek, or to taste

Mash garlic with sugar using mortar and pestle.  Add in remaining ingredients and mix well.