Showing posts sorted by date for query soto. Sort by relevance Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by date for query soto. Sort by relevance Show all posts

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Nasi Padang in West Java


Many Indonesian restaurants outside of Indonesia offer a rijsttafel option on their menus for diners wishing to try a variety of Indonesian dishes.  Popularized by the Dutch during their colonization of Indonesia, rijsttafel (rice table) is essentially an Indonesian buffet, with a large array of dishes for the diners to enjoy.  According to Wikipedia, the rijstaffel banquet enabled the colonial masters to showcase the variety of dishes from the islands throughout the archipelago that were under Dutch control.  After Indonesia gained its independence following WWII,  anti-colonial backlash caused the rijsttafel to fade away from Indonesia.

Nasi Padang is one of the precursors of the rijstaffel.  In a Padang restaurant diners are served numerous dishes to accompany a plate of rice.  Although it is originally from the Minangkabau of West Sumatra, nasi Padang is served in restaurants throughout Indonesia.  It's my understanding that because the Minangkabau are a matriarchal culture, with property passing down from mothers to daughters, the men move away and create their own businesses.  As a result, go just about anywhere and you can find nasi Padang. 


Nasi Padang restaurants not only offer a great variety of dishes, they are also cheap.  While as many as twenty dishes may be served, you are only charged for those you eat.  Plates that contain distinct cuts of meat, such as the plate with two pieces of rendang, are priced per piece.  For a satisfying meal as a reasonable price, it's hard to beat a Padang restaurant.

As much as I appreciate the merits of Padang restaurants, I am not a real aficionado.  I'm generally happier with a simple plate of good tahu lontong or a bowl of soto ayam, than with four or five indifferent dishes. It may be that I associate nasi Padang with buffet restaurants, an association that is not really fair, for I've seldom been disappointed by the food at a Padang restaurant.


  Last July while visiting Tjing's brother's family in Jakarta, we took a day trip to a remote area in West Java.  Although it was during Ramadan, we found a small nasi Padang restaurant open in one of the small towns we passed through.  One of the things I appreciate about Java is that even Muslim restaurants remain open during the fasting month, their windows covered and doors closed so as to not tempt faithful Muslims, but aware that there are customers who are not fasting.  Religion always has seemed a personal choice to me, and I can't understand how any person's belief in one religion or another gives him (or her) the right to insist that others follow the tenets of that religion.  It seems to me that if you believe so strongly in the truth of your God, show a little faith and humility and allow Him (or Her) to sort things out in the end.  Just sayin'.

In any case, the food at this restaurant was outstanding.  The rendang, ayam goreng, sambal kentang, and kari telor (egg curry) were all excellent.  They also had a dish of terong buncis (eggplant with green beans) that was remarkable.  It was just a small restaurant beside the road in one of the towns we drove through that day (more than eight hours of which were spent driving to and from our destination), but it was one of the better meals I had last summer.  I believe our tab for lunch came to 50,000 rupiah for the four of us (a little over $5). 


Tuesday, February 12, 2013

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

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.







Thursday, September 27, 2012

Sambal Serai--Lemongrass Sambal

 

Sambal is a part of just about every Indonesian meal.  Sambals can be cooked, raw, with vegetables or proteins, complex, or simple.  Some varieties can be found here.  Sambal ulek (usually seen in markets with the Dutch spelling, sambal oelek) is the most basic of sambals, simply freshly ground chilies and salt.  Sambals may be served alone as a snack, or as an accent to spark grilled fish or fried chicken.  You decide how much sambal your bowl of soto needs, but no soto is complete without it.



Sambal sereh is a cooked sambal that is a great accompaniment to grilled chicken, but also tastes great as a dip for rengginang or krupuk.  Although not for the faint-hearted, the level of heat can be adjusted by the types of chilies used.  Here in Sacramento, the Asian farmers market--a few blocks west of the official Sunday farmers market--finds the stalls overflowing with a variety of  chilies, some hot, others blistering.  Cabai rawit--bird chilies--are particularly hot and can be found throughout the year in local markets.  Cabai keriting--curly chilies--are hot, but not as hot as cabai rawit.  They are rarely found in local markets or at other farmers markets, but they do appear in late summer at the Asian farmers market. 



The Indonesian recipe that I adapted this from calls for 100 grams of cabai keriting.  I used about 80 grams and added a gypsy pepper, a mild red pepper.  This made for a very hot sambal, but one that I can still enjoy just eating with rengginang.  If you prefer a milder sambal, use fewer of the curly chilies and more of the gypsy chili or red bell pepper.  I suppose vegetarians could leave out the dried shrimp and terasi, but the sambal would be less complex.  Terasi (belacan) is an acquired taste, but once you've become accustomed to it, you will long for it.




80 grams (a good handful) chilies  (cabai keriting, but any hot red chili may be used), seeded
1 mild red pepper
3 cloves of garlic, peeled and minced
2 tsp ebi (dried shrimp), soaked in 2 TBS warm water for a few minutes and drained
1 tsp salt
1--2 TBS gula jawa (palm sugar)
1 TBS terasi (fermented shrimp paste)
3  tomatoes, roughly chopped
2 TBS vegetable oil
3/4 cup of water
2 stalks of lemongrass, outer leaves removed, crushed with a pestle and tied into a knot

In a blender or food processor, process the chilies and red pepper until you have a fairly smooth paste. Reserve.  Grind the garlic and salt to a smooth paste in a mortar.  Add the drained ebi, gula jawa, and terasi and grind with a pestle until smooth.  Add the tomatoes and continue to grind until all the ingredients are well mixed.
Heat a frying pan.  Add the oil and then the tomato and garlic mixture.  Fry until fragrant, then stir in water.  Add the chili paste and lemongrass. While stirring, cook over low heat until the mixture thickens.  Ideally, you want a sambal that is moist but not too liquid.  Scrape as much of the sambal as you can from the lemongrass.  Suck what remains on the stalks and count your blessings.

Serve the sambal with grilled/fried fish or chicken.  Or add to an omelet.  Or use as a dip for crackers, chips, krupuk, or rengginang.  Any way you serve it, you will enjoy.





Thursday, September 13, 2012

Gokar Kencana--Ayam Goreng-Bakar--Surabaya


Bantam chickens are a breed of chicken that originated in West Java.  A smaller breed of chicken, they are, according to Wikipedia, a popular breed for suburban homes in large part due to their decreased need for space.  That such a chicken should originate in Java is fitting as it is one of the world's most densely populated islands.  Not quite one third the size of California, Java has almost 4 times the number of people as California, just over 136,000,000.  Good luck getting lost on Java; travel half a mile from any spot and it seems there is another cluster of homes.

While tempe is probably the most readily available source of protein on Java as it is cheap enough for everyone except perhaps the most abject poor, chicken is the most common meat of the Javanese diet.  Ayam goreng, sate ayam, soto ayam, and ayam panggang or ayam bakar can be found on just about any street.  Go hiking to get away from the masses and you'll probably find a hawker who has carried his grill and chicken up the mountainside to cater to hungry hikers.  A cold beer is a rare find, but a piece of freshly cooked chicken is never more than a few minutes from wherever you might be.

In Surabaya this summer, Tjing and I enjoyed a lunch at Gokar Kencana, a family restaurant specializing in fried and grilled  chicken. Anyone familiar with Indonesians fondness for acronyms might suss out the restaurant's focus (ayam GOreng) and (ayam baKAR).  In addition to chicken, the restaurant also serves fried and grilled gurame.


The restaurant is located in a suburb near several of Surabaya's universities, Universitas Airlangga, ITS (Institute Technology Surabaya), and Universitas Muhammadiyah Surabaya.  A spacious patio covered by an arching roof, the restaurant would seem to be a great place to grab a meal before or after classes.  It's much more upscale than the typical warung or rumah makan, but the prices seemed very reasonable at around 1500 rp for a serving of a quarter of a chicken with rice.

The fried chicken is not the KFC style with a crisp crust that absorbs grease, but the Indonesian style of chicken that is first simmered in coconut water with a mix of spices before being fried.  This results in a flavorful piece of chicken that is moist but thoroughly cooked without being greasy.  The grilled chicken includes some honey in the mixture that it is basted with while being grilled.  It is grilled on a custom made grill that uses briquettes rather than the lump charcoal that is more commonly used in Indonesia.  Both the fried chicken and the grilled were extremely tasty, as was the fried gurame.  Although I enjoyed all the dishes, I preferred the grilled chicken and its accompanying sambal.



Saturday, August 11, 2012

What Did Me This Summer


Night Stall

I took a break from posting while visiting friends and family in Indonesia this summer.  I had originally planned to post more on warungs and rumah makans I visited, but I didn't visit as many as I had planned.  Instead, I ate mostly at home--my sister-in-law's house.  Lili is an excellent cook and manages to produce simple, delicious meals on a two-burner stove in the open-air kitchen at the back of her house.  Spending time with her, her husband and two daughters was all Tjing needed, and it did me fine.

We ate tempe and/or tofu (along with other dishes) almost every day, and I was fine with that.  Indeed, I could eat Javanese tempe every day without complaint.  The difference between tempe you get in Java and the stuff that is sold (at about ten times the price) in the States is like the difference between a crusty French baguette and a loaf of Wonder Bread.  Being that Kediri is Kota Tahu (Tofu City), the tofu was of top quality also.

We did eat out at times, of course.  We enjoyed some Chinese food at Sari Agung (also known as Canton) on Jalan Doho.  We had sate ayam at Pak Siboen's down the street.  Rujak cingur from the Madurese woman.  Martabak telor from Jalan Panglima.  Mie pangsit from several different places.  Tahu telor from the warung on the corner.  But for the most part we simply ate at home.

Sometimes one doesn't need do much to be content.  Sometimes a simple dish is as satisfying as an extravagant feast.  To do more is excess.  I'll be posting recipes again soon, but for now here are some photos of what did me this summer.

 Preparing Soto Ayam Kediri

 Soto Ayam with Lontong


 Mie Pangsit

 Mie Pangsit

 Mie Pangsit


 Treats from a Muslim Neighbor Before the Start of Ramadan

 Soto Pekalongan in Bandung

Yammie Ayam in Bandung

Sunday, June 24, 2012

A Plate of Java

Java, for most Americans, is synonymous with coffee.  Countless coffee shops employ
names such as Java City, Java House, and Java Corner to identify themselves as hip and
true.  They want you to know they serve the authentic coffee, no corporate multinational
conglomerate brew for them.  Unfortunately, Java produces little coffee these days, and that
which it does produce is generally inferior to that grown  on other islands in Indonesia such
as Sumatra,  Sulawesi, Bali and Flores.  Food is another story.

Throughout the archipelago local ingredients and conditions have influenced the cooking. 
Some cuisines, such as that of the Minangkabau of West Sumatra, have spread throughout
the islands; you are as likely to find a Padang restaurant in Irian Jaya as you are in Padang. 
Likewise,  a single dish such as soto has innumerable variations, evolving to reflect local
tastes and ingredients. 

For this month’s Foodbuzz 24 x 24, I proposed a sampling of the foods offered on the streets of
Kediri, my wife’s hometown in East Java.  We arrived here Friday evening,  after traveling
for 36 hours from California to reach Java, 23 of those hours spent in the air.  While time generally
seems to slip by more quickly the older I get,  not so for those long flights.

A minivan shuttled us from my wife's cousin's house in Surabaya to Tjing's family home in Kediri.  A drive that normally takes around three hours took six.  With less legroom than is afforded in economy airline seats these days, the van ride seemed every bit as long as the flight from California.  Arriving in Kediri around 8:30, we quickly set out to a local pushcart serving fried rice (nasi goreng), fried noodles (mie goreng), noodle soup (mie kuah), and a mix of fried noodles and rice (nasi mawut).  In a small wok set over a burner of glowing coals, the cook prepared each serving cooked to order.  It was a nice start to our stay in Kediri.

I thought the task of sampling a variety of the dishes available in Kediri through the course of a day would be relatively simple.  I had forgotten how much variety there is in Java, how many possibilities and variations there are.  As much as I wanted to, it was impossible to include sup buntut (oxtail soup), rawon (a hearty beef soup), pecel lele (catfish grilled or fried and served with vegetables and sambal), belut (eel), swike (frog), martabak telor (a kind of crepe folded around beaten eggs and fried crisp) while also having those dishes that I did.  I chose to avoid gado-gado and sate (satay), as I figured they were familiar to anyone who has ever been to an Indonesian or Malaysian restaurant. 

Normally my breakfast here consists of coffee and a bowl of fruit, usually papaya with a squeeze of lime.  Tjing's family consider this odd, fruit not being adequate for breakfast.  Most often breakfast for the family  is rice with whatever was left from yesterday's meals.  When told of my need to blog about the food typically eaten in Kediri, Tjing's sister, Lili, and her husband, An Kok, both natives of Kediri, quickly suggested where to get the best nasi gurih, nasi kuning, and other dishes they thought were worthy to blog about. 



A little after 7:15 on Saturday morning, Lili, Tjing, and I set out to get the food.  The first place we stopped was at the bubur ayam truck on Jl. Doho.  Bubur ayam is a rice porridge (congee or jook) usually served with a sprinkling of fried peanuts, fried shallots, chopped scallions, and fried Chinese crullers (cakwe).  It's the very definition of a comfort food, simple yet satisfying.  Although it wasn't even 7:30 yet, there was only enough bubur left for one bowl.  We purchased that for 8,000 rupiah (90 cents) and continued on our way to get nasi kuning (yellow rice).



At the nasi kuning stall we discovered we were once again too late.  Sold out.  Some sort of school group had come earlier and bought all the yellow rice.  They had nasi gurih though, so we got a portion of that for 10,000 rupiah and three fried bananas (pisang goreng) for several thousand more.  Nasi gurih is rice that has been cooked with a little coconut milk and served with several sides.  Here it was served with chicken, tofu, vegetable in a spicy coconut broth, sambal kentang kering, and a sprinkling of fried shallots.

We then went to another stall and picked up some more nasi gurih, this with a spicier broth.  After this we stopped at another sidewalk vendor on Jl. Doho that still had some nasi kuning.  Nasi kuning is traditionally a celebratory dish, often served at weddings, birthdays and selamatans.  Rice is cooked in coconut milk colored with turmeric and scented with pandan leaves.  This produces a rich, fragrant rice, visually and aromatically appealing.  This was bundled together with noodles, sambal tempe kering, fried tofu, chicken, and vegetables in spicy broth.

In both the nasi gurih and the nasi kuning there is a balance between the savory and sweet, the spicy and mild, the crispness of the sambals and the pleasing suppleness of the vegetables in their broth. 






Finally, two doors down from Lili's house, we stopped and picked up an order of pecel tumpang.  Pecel is a kind of less elaborate version of gado-gado.  Consisting of some boiled greens (in this case cassava leaves) topped with some fried tofu and tempe and dressed in a peanut based sauce, this a what might be described as a vegan's wet dream.  Pecel tumpang is a specialty of East Java, the sauce using overly ripened tempe to give it it's complex funkiness.  My brother-in-law in Bandung, West Java, who has been known to travel 14 hours by bus to Kediri, visit for two hours or so before getting back on the bus to return to Bandung, never fails to get some pecel tumpang when he is in town. We also picked up some kolak ubi there, a sweet soup rich with coconut milk and palm sugar.


bubur ayam
the spread
nasi tumpang
nasi gurih and nasi kuning
another version of nasi gurih

 kolak ubi--a sweet potato sweet coconut milk soup
Having at last assembled all the elements for our breakfast, we headed home, just two doors down.  Lili and Tjing spread the bounty upon the dining table and we all helped ourselves to a little of this and that.  The nasi kuning was superb, expertly seasoned, and the sambal tempe kering that accompanied it was just as good.  For a total of 56,000 rupiah (about $6), we had more than enough food for four adults and two hungry girls.


For lunch we had one of my favorites, soto ayam.  Soto ayam can be found throughout Indonesia, but some of the best is undoubtedly in Central and East Java.  When I first came to Indonesia almost 30 years ago, soto ayam was what I had for a mid-morning snack or lunch at least four days a week. The best soto ayam I've had is still that I used to get in Cepu, but Kediri has several worthy contenders.  We chose to eat at the venerable Soto Pojok (Corner Soto), a small rumah makan located on Jl. Doho, Kediri's main street.  Soto Pojok has been in business since 1926 and is open every day of the year, including national holidays and during Ramadan.

soto ayam
tahu dan tempe goreng
enjoying lunch
A rumah makan (which literally translates as eating house) is a kind of scaled down restaurant.  Most rumah makans offer a very limited menu of a few dishes which are already cooked and are merely assembled when ordered.  Soto Pojok offers two items, soto ayam and tahu and tempe goreng (fried tempeh and tofu).  Their tempe goreng is heavenly, with a golden brown and crisp exterior and an almost creamy interior.  Although they use a light hand when adding chicken to the soto, and the rice they use is not the best, their broth is very good, which you would expect from a place that has been in business more than 75 years. Six bowls of soto, five krupuk, two portions of tahu dan tempe goreng plus drinks came to 75,000 rupiah (about $8).

Having purchased food from pedagang kaki lima (street vendors) and warungs for breakfast, and eaten lunch at a rumah makan, I thought for dinner we should go to a restaurant.  It's one An Kwok and Lili took us to several years ago, a seafood restaurant which I remembered having some excellent ikan bakar (grilled fish). 

Ikan Bakar 99 is an odd place that serves very good food.  The owner and main cook is a body builder who stands about 5'6" tall.  On the walls inside the dining room, which appears to be the living room of a house, are pictures of the owner oiled and flexing.  As sometimes happens in Indonesia, one of the servers was wearing a T-shirt that might not have been appropriate for a restaurant.  It read: Save Water, Pee While You Shower.  Not something you really want to think about while sitting down to eat.  The room has the capacity to seat 28, uncomfortably.  Being Saturday night, it was full when we arrived, but fortunately we were able to squeeze into a table in the back corner. 

All the food is prepared in front of the restaurant.  The owner/cook mans two gas fired burners, one dedicated to a wok for deep frying, and another for braises and stir fries.  An assistant oversees a grill of ruby coals over which whole fish are quickly grilled.

I ordered more food than we could possibly eat, more than I was comfortable ordering, but I wanted to try a range of dishes.  I was uncomfortable ordering so much in front of An Kok and Lili, not wanting them to think Tjing and I were gluttons or people who didn't know the value of money.  There is always this line one walks as a foreigner in Indonesia, knowing that what seems like little to you is not so little to those who live there.  A plate of noodles for less than two dollars would be nothing for many Americans, but for many Indonesians that would seem an extravagance.  Nevertheless, I ordered away, explaining it was Foodbuzz paying for the meal, not me.  We had ikan kakap bakar manis (snapper grilled with sweet soya sauce), gurame goreng (thin slices of filleted gurame dusted with flour and fried, served with a sweet and sour sauce, sawi cah udang (choy sum with shrimp), kweitiau seafood (broad rice noodles with seafood), udang crispy (crispy fried shrimp), mun tahu (tofu braised with vegetables and seafood), and steamed rice.  The total for the dinner, including tea and a glass of fresh orange juice, came to 199,000 rupiah (a little over $20). 

ikan kakap bakar manis

gurame goreng

digging in

mun tahu

sawi cah udang

 udang crispy

All in all, it was a wonderful day sampling some of the foods Kediri has to offer.  I'd like to thank Foodbuzz for the opportunity and hope to post more of the places  and recipes I try in my next few weeks here.

*When I originally posted this my laptop had less than 5% battery life, so I wasn't able to include any recipes other than the link to soto.  Here are a few others.

Pecel Sambal Kacang

500 grams peanuts, fried
1 red chile
5 red Thai chiles
5 cloves of garlic, peeled
1/2 inch of fresh kencur (almost impossible to find in the US) or 1/2 tsp ground kencur
2 kaffir lime leaves
1 tsp vinegar
200 grams sugar
salt, to taste
3 TBS vegetable oil

Long beans or green beans
Spinach
Bean sprouts

Heat the vegetable oil in a wok or skillet, add the chiles and garlic and stir fry until softened, being careful not to brown the garlic. When softened, remove from the pan and mix with the peanuts, kencur (if you have), lime leaves, sugar, and salt in a blender.  Process until you have a well mixed paste.  Add the vinegar and enough water to make a sauce that is thick, but can be poured atop the vegetables.

Boil the vegetables separately in a large pot of boiling water.  The beans will take two to three minutes, maybe a little less for the spinach, and a minute should be long enough for the bean sprouts.  As each vegetable is cooked, drain and plunge in cold water to stop the cooking.  Drain well.

Place the vegetables on a plate and top with the peanut sauce.  Serve with rempeyek and/or krupuk.

Pecel Sambal Tumpang

150 grams tempe, diced
50 grams tempe semangit (overripe tempe--if you make your own tempe, let some of it continue to ferment before wrapping it and putting it in the refrigerator or freezer)
1 salam leaf
2 kaffir lime leaves
1/2 inch of laos, pounded
3 red Thai chiles
200 ml water
500 ml coconut milk
3 TBS vegetable oil

4 shallots, peeled
3 cloves of garlic, peeled
1 red chile
1/2 tsp coriander seeds, finely ground
1/2 inch kencur
salt, to taste

Long beans or green beans
Cassava leaves (these are somewhat bitter, chard or kale would be a good substitute)
Bean sprouts

In a mortar or using a food processor or blender, grind together the shallots, garlic, chile, coriander, kencur and salt.  Heat the vegetable oil in a pan over medium heat and add the ground spice mixture.  Cook, stirring, until fragrant and softened.  Remove from the pan and cool.

In a medium saucepan boil the water with the two tempes, salam leaf, kaffir lime leaves, laos and Thai chiles until they are cooked.  Add the previously fried spice mixture, bring to a simmer, then remove from the heat.

Process the cooked tempe mixture to a paste and return to the saucepan.  Add the coconut milk and bring just to a simmer over low flame.  Remove from the heat and allow to cool.

Cook each of the vegetables separately in a large pot of boiling water. Put in cold water to stop the cooking and drain. 

Place a mix of the cooked vegetables on a plate and pour over the cooled tempe sauce.  Serve with rempeyek.

Mun Tahu

8 oz silken tofu, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
4 oz shrimp, peeled and coarsely chopped
4 oz chicken or pork, coarsely chopped
1 cup water
3 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed
1 slice of ginger, crushed
1/4 tsp white pepper, finely ground
1 TBS light soy sauce
3 TBS vegetable oil
1 tsp cornstarch mixed with 2 TBS water
8 young scallions, thinly sliced
1 tsp sesame oil

Heat the vegetable oil in a wok.  Stir fry the garlic until golden and fragrant.  Add shrimp and chicken or pork, stirring.  As soon as this mixture colors, add the water and bring to a boil.

Lower the heat and add the tofu, ginger, white pepper and soil sauce.  Simmer five minutes to allow the flavors to develop.  Stir in cornstarch slurry and simmer several minutes until the sauce thickens slightly.  Stir in the thinly sliced scallions and sesame oil.  Remove from heat and serve.


Friday, November 18, 2011

Thanksgiving and Loss

The world, my world, was diminished this week.  Tuesday morning in Kediri, East Java, my father-in-law died.  He had been sick for many months, weakened and ravaged by the cancer that first blossomed on his tongue six years ago.  He had had half his tongue removed, been reduced to a diet of liquid and pap, yet he was unbowed by the disease.  Oh, he complained about what the cancer had cost him, complained that he had lost his sense of taste while also complaining that the bubur, soto or whatever else he happened to be eating didn't taste good, but he had many of the same complaints even before the cancer.  The eldest male in his family, when Pa spoke, everyone did as he said without argument.  It was hard to see him this summer, months after the cancer had reappeared, struggling to speak, his voice stolen by the disease. 

I first met Pa a little over 18 years ago.  I had asked Tjing to marry me and she had, with great trepidation, gone back to Kediri to ask her father for his permission.  Had he said no, that would have been the end of it.  Never mind that we were both adults living independent lives, if Pa had told Tjing to end it, that would have been that.  Tjing knew (as did I) there was also a very good chance that would happen.  Although she had known me for almost six years by then, my existence had never been broached to either her mother, who died a few years earlier, or her father.  Knowing all this, it's rather remarkable that I wasn't more nervous when I went to the train station that morning to meet him.

In fact, Pa and I got along very well together right from the start.  We were oddly similar in many ways,  both probably more feared by our families than by the community at large.  Like me, he accepted there are idiots loose in the world, but wouldn't suffer fools gladly.  He was also comfortable with silences and had little use for idle gossip.  Unlike his daughter, he believed in getting to the airport or train station in plenty of time.  Tjing and I both had to laugh when we said our final farewell this summer and he was enraged because he thought we would be late for our train although the station was less than ten minutes away and he had us leaving with almost 45 minutes to spare.  He shook his fist and bellowed with rage at our failure to have becaks lined up in advance to take us to the station.  When we had finally managed to get our bags and ourselves into the becaks, he relaxed and dismissed us with a wave.


What a lot of people didn't realize is what a great sense of humor Pa had.  He came to the US a couple years after we had moved into our house.  Because Tjing didn't feel able to deal with him in the classroom, he came to study in the school where I taught.  As I was teaching a Beginning Low class, Pa was a student in my class.  In the class there was a Russian student who had a very prominent, very long nose.  He was also not particularly bright, one of those students who is always a page or two behind the rest of the class, so when he was asked a question he would give a nonsensical answer.  Pa nicknamed him "Petruk," one of the clown-servants in Indonesian wayang plays. To this day, when I have a student who is a little bit lost, I think of Pa and Petruk and smile.

One time in Bandung, where one of Tjing's brothers lives and where Pa often stayed, he noticed a worker seemed  to be upset.  When he asked him what was wrong, the worker explained he had had a bad dream.  In his dream the worker was reading the book of his life and he had come to the last page when he woke up.  He was sure the dream meant he would die soon.  Pa told the worker not to worry.  Maybe, Pa said, it was just book one in a series. They both laughed and the worker was visibly more relaxed, able to look forward to a long life.

I could never express how thankful I am that Pa allowed me to marry his daughter, to take her so far from him, and to allow me into his family and his home.  He always treated me with more respect, more kindness, and more love than I am sure I deserved.  He was a good man, one who taught me much in the brief time I knew him, one I am proud to have loved and been loved by, who I will sorely miss now that he is gone.  So I give thanks for the time I had with him, for the gifts he bestowed upon me, for his grace.  May he rest in peace.