Jakarta, a culinary wasteland for good, authentic food?

Andre Vltchek and Rossie Indira, Contributors, Denpasar, Bali

Jose Bove, the French philosopher/farmer, antiglobalization activist and determined fighter against chain restaurants and American malbouffe (mildly and loosely translated as "bad food"), spreading its greasy and calorie-laden burgers and fries all over the world, would most definitely not choose Jakarta as the exemplary city of good and healthy dining.

In Jakarta, Europe lost. According to a former UN employee based in the city, enormous metropolis, capital of the fourth largest nation by population in the world, doesn't have one single restaurant that could offer at least semidecent and semiauthentic Italian culinary fair.

Jakarta doesn't have any German, Russian, Swedish or Portuguese restaurants, and even a Spanish dining room at a major hotel serves overpriced food very far from the quality expected from simple bars at some god-forsaken train station in provincial Spain.

There is a bread store with an eponymous name of Europe, but it's just a name, of course. It's another enormous chain selling hopelessly sweet and unmemorable pastries. Apart of its tacky windmill symbol, there is nothing authentically Dutch about its bread.

Even the Indonesian business elite is now hooked on American chains. While it would be unimaginable for the trendy trading crowd in New York, San Francisco or Boston to arrange evening get-togethers at a theme restaurant, it is quite normal for Jakarta's nouveau riche to gather at places associated in the U.S. with suburban living, not with urban sophistication.

Visibly lacking sleek cafes and the Latin Bar and China Bar style establishments of other great cities, city dwellers in Jakarta are settling for chain cafes and plastic tables.

But how authentic is even the chain food in Jakarta?

While one chain that mushroomed along all major American highways (no, not the Golden Arches) offers tremendous, juicy burgers in the United States, in Jakarta it serves little, sad looking, dry meat-units of unidentifiable origin. And what about the soft, uncrunchy crust and insulting parody on pepperoni and mozzarella of pizza?

While making a film in Jakarta, I visited a Tex-Mex eatery in Central Jakarta on several occasions. It was not because I treasured its menu but simply because it was next door to my hotel. Every time I visited, I selected a burger with blue cheese.

The waitress took my order, then disappeared, only to return five minutes later to inform me, that "Today, we're out of the blue cheese" (my Indonesian wife was recently shocked while visiting Hanoi. She ordered yogurt, which the restaurant had run out, but it immediately sent a waitress to buy fresh supplies from across the street).

I gave up on the Tex-Mex joint after almost breaking my tooth on some bone fragment, treacherously hidden inside the Swiss burger.

A dedicated reader of Jose Bove and loyal consumer of Roquefort cheese, escargot and pate, I hardly visit fast food chains anywhere in the world. However, squeezed by traffic and overwhelmed by hunger in suburban Indonesia, I decided to compromise my principals on several occasions.

Under the cover of darkness, I dragged my wife (fierce defender of authentic warung food over chain offerings any day) to another famous burger joint. It was only to discover that even a cheeseburger tastes different here (and it's not a compliment) than anywhere else in the world!

We still couldn't figure out what exactly is wrong with "international" or "foreign" restaurants in Jakarta. Is it lack of authentic ingredients, outrageous taxes on everything imported, or simple lack of expats willing to open small and great restaurants and cook themselves, as they do in Hanoi and Bangkok?

Or are Indonesians simply lacking a passion for great food?

Why does the common beef Stroganoff served in Jakarta leave no delicious aftertaste of French pickles? Why has "French onion soup" served by a French-owned hotel have no baked cheese on top?

Why is "authentic" espresso coffee, served in almost all cafes of the city so huge and so weak? Why does the local baguette lack crunch?

Of the many places that we tried, the best restaurants are owned and run by foreigners, like the Lebanese place on Jl. Sabang, Central Jakarta.

The other day, after listening for one full hour to a Singaporean couple complaining about Indonesian food, we took a romantic walk on the premises of a hotel in Bali.

Looking at Tanah Lot temple, my wife suddenly said: "There is something important I never told you."

"What is it?" I responded, alarmed.

"You know, every time I travel to Singapore, I go to KFC and stuff myself on chicken nuggets! They taste so different than here."

After this revelation, we drove to Tuban -- to a Padang restaurant -- and had our best meal in two weeks. It was beef rendang, of course, not some fake cordon bleu!