Bawakaraeng: Short on service but great food

Bawakaraeng: Short on service but great food

"A fish to die for," gushes one connoisseur. "A taste of
heaven" is another lavish accolade. Such is the homage paid to
fried red snapper in sweet soy sauce, the crowning glory of
Bawakaraeng, a restaurant specializing in the Makassar cuisine of
South Sulawesi.

And well-deserved it is. The restaurant, located at Jl. Ampera
Raya 16 in Kemang, is not exactly at a barren point on the
gastronomic map ("What? Not another Kemang restaurant!"), but it
also cooks up simple but wonderful meals that way upstage its
dignified but cozy home-style decor.

The terse menu doesn't brim with quantity -- it's quality all
the way. Even vegetables, side dishes and the ubiquitous ground
chilies are enticingly classy, like superior versions of home
specials. No wonder people usually come in throngs, often with
family and friends.

In short, it's one of Epicurus' favorite joints, a kind of
culinary reminder of why Europe came to this part of the world
many centuries ago.

At Bawakaraeng, the search for spices never ends. Everything
is worked from the ground up, based from good and fresh produce,
and full of zesty flavors.

So kiss restraint goodbye and "explore", an entirely
acceptable euphemism for "order as much as possible". We
certainly did.

A worthy starter would be the fabled coto Makassar, a rich,
honest-to-goodness fare which tastes like a cross between soto
Betawi (beef and tripe in coconut cream broth) and semur, beef
cooked in sweet soy sauce.

But since we're talking Indonesian style, it would be best to
eat the soup on the side, together with the main dishes.

The aforesaid snapper still remains one of the greatest joys
in Jakarta dining. This is fish at its most succulent, fried to
crispy perfection, doused in sweet and sour soy sauce spiked with
butter and vinegar and garnished with peppers, corn and bright
red tomatoes.

Long after the fish had been demolished, we were still pouring
what was left of the sauce onto our rice, wanting to savor every
drop of this ambrosial epicurean feat.

The side dishes were no less impressive. Charcoal-grilled
squid sauteed in sweet soy sauce and ground shallots washed over
the palate like waves lapping at the shore. The portion might be
small, but it took care of the three of us as well as it did the
six of us many, many months ago.

Another smallish but smashing side dish was sweet corn sauteed
with ground chilies and salted fish. It's like the afterthought
you never talk about until you realize it's there -- and wow,
what was it again?

The restaurant used to be a dab hand at beef too, judging from
the long-time success of its Makassar beef satay. However, our
first grimace of the evening surfaced at finding out that the
beef was now slightly tough, and the sweet peanut sauce a mite
listless.

But did it stop us from having fun? Not by a long shot; at
Bawakaraeng, eating rice with lalap, raw vegetables, and sambal
(ground chillies with shrimp paste) is already a heady
experience.

However, don't expect much by way of dessert. The pisang epe,
or grilled banana in palm sugar syrup, used to be quite a
luscious tongue-teaser, a Malay classic, in fact. Note that I say
"used to be" because this time the banana tasted like rubber.

But the only thing that may really work towards Bawakaraeng's
disadvantage is the disjointed and arrogant service. We've had
our orders confused a couple of times, but no matter,
incompetence is still tolerable given all the strong points.

Lamentably, Jakarta is a place where the sight of an
inordinate number of restaurant staff huddled together, doing and
seeing absolutely nothing, is pretty commonplace.

But arrogance? One waiter whiffed past us, clearly saw us
beckoning him, but kept sailing on with an upturned nose. Worse
still, he's done it before (a fact we tried to overlook). The
very same waiter came to us with our second order and slammed it
on the table, shocking the living daylights out of us. Before we
could say "Whaa" he had disappeared.

Another waiter unceremoniously intruded upon our intimate
conversation, literally forcing us to place our last orders.
Even after we consented, he made impatient gestures and left
before everybody at the table had finished ordering.

He made a point to come back, that is, after we glared at him
enough to melt a glacier. But he was poker-faced, resolutely
oblivious to his impudence.

It's a pity that such a veritable palais du cuisine should be
marred by the lack of something so basic. In retrospect, previous
qualms about the lighting (spotlights from extremely high
ceilings?) seem so petty in comparison.

That said, over the long-term Bawakaraeng may well trump all
the current stars in Kemang, which opened noisily but will likely
disappear in a few years or two. Its inspired dishes, cooked
with care and passion, are enough reason to turn a blind eye to
pouty and recalcitrant waiters. For now, at least.

Our bill came to Rp 108,000 for three, and it definitely paid
to focus only on the food and the homey ambience.

-- Epicurus