Crooning the night away at fun-filled Colours Cafe

By Bill Blade

JAKARTA (JP): It was with a great deal of curiosity that I'd read the regular advertisements in a leading newspaper over the last few months proudly announcing the "Singing Service" available only in Colours Cafe, and asking if you had ever been served by singing waitresses.

If not, then you were cordially invited to, "Come and experience it now in a nice atmosphere." Well, I must admit I've never been served by singing waitresses, although I have had my chow dished up by waitresses on skateboards, waitresses on roller skates and, best of all, topless waitresses (not in Jakarta, mind you). But singing waitresses? This was something that was just begging to be tried out.

In fact, I'd already tried twice to get to Colours but was frustrated on both occasions by deciding to go to the place on a Sunday and a public holiday respectively, both being days on which this particular restaurant has a policy of closing up shop.

Located in the basement of the Menara Thamrin on, as its name suggests, Jl. Thamrin, Colours is centrally located, although I always find wandering around the basement of a deserted office building (I took the wrong turn after exiting the elevator, and the basement was very large indeed) rather disconcerting and strangely reminiscent of The Shining, that terrifying 1970s movie starring Jack Nickolson.

So, after putting a spring in my step so as to avoid any unwanted visitations, it was a slightly perspiring reviewer who eventually burst through the saloon-style swinging doors of the restaurant to rendezvous with his date.

The first thing that strikes you about the interior design scheme of Colours is that you've seen it all before a hundred times over. As you gaze around trying to accustom your eyes to the gloom after the white glare of the basement corridor outside, you spy a lot of dark paneling, large, round and heavy stand-up drinking tables and a bar sitting comfortably, cat-like and ready to pounce, behind them.

The walls are covered with various posters promoting everything from Joan Baez to long-forgotten brands of whisky and cigarettes (if they ever existed in the first place), and Old West memorabilia and various types of plastic vegetables hang from the ceiling, suggesting that the designer was attempting to roll the Tex-Mex, saloon, bistro and drinking den concepts into one glorious melange.

Over to your right is the raised dining area while behind you is a small to medium-sized stage with all the appropriate musical instruments standing guard expectantly. If you crane your eyes even harder you will see a pool table sitting in an alcove behind the bar, together with dart board, television and other diversions for those difficult to amuse. All in all, if you were of a pseudish disposition you could be tempted to declare the place a sordid pastiche.

Looks, however, can deceive and pseuds often err. Your first intimation that Colours is something out of the ordinary comes as the bouncy waitress starts to yodel her way alarmingly over in your direction. "Table for twOOOOO, Sir."

She's so bubbly that its difficult to feel embarrassment or reserve and, despite the large number of diners' heads eagerly turned in your direction waiting to see if you're a party-pooper, it's really hard not to respond in like manner, "Yes, I woUUUUld, please."

Having eventually taken my leave of the diva on the doorstep and been shown to the table where my date was cringing with embarrassment at my attempts to join in the musical merriment, it was time to get acquainted with the menu (there's nothing like a spot of public crooning to work up an appetite). The menu, however, turned out to be more restricted than I had expected and was confined pretty much to the usual fare for such Tex-Mexy-cum- taverna-cum-beer-hall establishments, lots of steaks, fajitas, burgers, etc.

While my date opted to forego a starter, I decided to check out the chicken liver pate. Alas, disappointment -- all out of pate, particularly unfortunate as it was one of only two starters on offer. Ah well, c'est la vie. And so on to the soup course. My date, of a naturally conservative bent, opted for the cream of chicken soup (Rp 12,600), which, she said, turned out to be not only deliciously creamy but also well-endowed with plump, juicy pieces of chicken.

Meanwhile, I couldn't resist the Hungarian goulash soup (Rp 13,200), which turned out to be as good as it sounded in the menu blurb. Thick pieces of tender beef, soft and starchy potatoes and carrots, and a delicious tangy-tarty hit from the paprika -- just what I needed to get me into good voice.

For her entree, my date finally settled for the Emince of Beef Stroganoff (Rp 42,500). Once again she was well pleased with her selection, the beef being pronounced perfectly tender and the sauce creamy to the point of hyperbole. The dish was served with plain rice.

I had opted for the mixed grill (Rp 38,400) which, when it eventually came after what seemed like an inordinate delay, turned out to be far from inspiring. A flat lump of lamb's liver grilled to extinction, a rather anemic, anorexic sirloin and, by contrast, a quite delicious marinated chicken steak made up the collection of unlikely bed-fellows I was presented with, all set off by golden brown French fries and a run-of-the-mill side salad. Well, suffice to say I ended up scoffing down the fries and the chicken, with the sirloin and the liver only receiving scant attention.

As for desert, the menu was basically confined to various reworkings of old ice-cream themes. But as neither of us were in the mood for such (presumably) tasty treats, we decided to content ourselves with an iced cappuccino (Rp 17,500) for her and a strawberry milkshake (Rp 12,500) for myself. Neither of us had any complaints in this department. All in all, the bill for our meal (including tax and service) came to Rp 170,000 -- not bad these days for two people (no alcoholic drinks, mind you).

And let's not forget the crooning. All through our meal, we were treated to excellent renditions of romantic favorites. It may sound crass but, believe me, it was a great laugh (guests can also get up and sing, and many did). The young waitresses kept the laughs flowing and, I'd wager, would be the life and soul of any party.

While Colours could be in no way be considered the epicurean discovery of the year, it nevertheless has a lot going for it. The fact is, this is a fun place, not in the sense where it's a mandatory requirement that you enjoy yourself, what with forced smiles and hollow laughter, but in the sense of real fun that is spontaneous and unselfconscious.

So, if you're prepared to be a little less discerning on the culinary front than usual and more inclined to concentrate on the fun, you will probably have a good evening out (call ahead at 230-2944 to find out if they are open).