Marriage that works: Local and Western food
DENPASAR, Bali (JP): You like cream? The answer, will be a resounding yes from all quarters. You like rujak? Though limited, the response will be just at unequivocal. Limited because the yeses will burst from the mouths of Indonesians rather than those from foreign lands. Maybe there'll be a sprinkling of resident aliens who join the chorus. Some may have developed a taste for that dish of different types of fruit covered in a dressing concocted of chili, brown sugar and, most important, terasi (fermented shrimp paste), which has to be smelt to be believed.
Now hold on to your seats ... Do you like rujak and ice cream? Or sorbet, rather? I mean both of them on one plate, accompanied by a tart filled with sour cream? I bet the reaction is either a deadly silence or politely raised eyebrows. Or -- from those who are less polite -- an assortment of comments the meaning of which can be encapsulated by yuk or urgh. But I'd also wager that some of you may be intrigued by the unusual combination. Unusual yes, but definitely not impossible. So, for the intrigued among you, here's where you can get Rujak and Fresh Yoghurt Sour Cream Tart & Yoghurt Sorbet: The Legian hotel in Bali which "opened softly" recently.
A bit about The Legian. It belongs to General Hotels Management, which, as some of you probably know, owns the chain that includes The Chedi. Four are already up and running, of which two - in Bandung and Ubud - bear the name of The Chedi. But all of them share the characteristics for which GHM hotels here have become famous: they're small (with 70 rooms The Legian is the largest), the atmosphere is friendly, intimate and informal. GHM's are consummate hosts. They make it a point to always chat to all guests, staying as well as non-staying, and they have also adopted the sedap malam flower (a kind of tuber whose fragrance lasts all evening) as their signature flower. You'll see tons of them at the GHM hotels in Bandung, Ubud, Candi Dasa and Legian.
But to get back to the sorbet-rujak combination. In hotel shops and restaurants Indonesian dishes always undergo adjustments. Which is quite understandable. You don't want your guests to end up with Bali belly or Solo stomach caused by the 100% authentic eats they stuffed themselves with. But in many instances the adjustments have been so thorough as to make the dish totally unrecognizable. I recognize the need for adjustments but there is such a thing is going too far. The day hasn't arrived yet that I can appreciate rendang, or gado-gado, or sop buntut in hotels, be they foreign or Indonesian. As for bubur ayam ... Glodok is still waiting for any hotels to come close.
So where does the sorbet/rujak come in, you ask. Well, when it came to the table I caught a whiff of terasi and my eyebrows went skywards. Mindful, however, of the proof of the pudding and all that jazz, I took a spoonful and my palate was hit by a totally new and very pleasant sensation combining the heat of the chilies tempered by the coldness of the yoghurt sorbet while the crunchiness of the tart's shell, married to that of the fruit, enhanced the dish's body. There were more successful marriages, such as the one between the taste of white and brown sugar, the first in the tart and ice cream, the latter (derived from coconut) in the rujak dressing.
There's nothing bland about yoghurt, chilies, fruit, brown sugar, sour cream, terasi, and blending these strong, assertive ingredients is something else. It takes somebody like pastry chef Francois Seurin to tackle this. He hails from Monaco -- at least where he worked before he set foot on Bali -- and taming such strong flavors like cheese -- some types of which are just as pungent as terasi -- is nothing new to him. This is all very well. of course, but what about the taste? "Simple," Francois said with a Gallic shrug, not to mention accent, "I ask my assistants. They're Indonesian, so they should know..." So I turned to two of them, busy putting together something that looked like dark chocolate and jackfruit mousse (ever had that before?) "What is it you appreciate in this dish?" The answer: "It's still Indonesian."
All this miscegenation between Indonesian and western dished is not confined to desserts, either. Main courses included the typical Balinese duck dish called bebek belulu - quite authentic - served with mashed potato. There's also roast lamb with glazed young papaya.
So the emphasis is on combining and adjusting these two very different types of cuisines in such a way as to rein in their respective characteristics, with none taking precedence over the other. There is a reason for this. Said executive chef, Christopher Salans: "We don't want to be too dependent on imported ingredients. Practically the only imported items we have are such things as beef and lamb, because the local meat is not suitable for the hot dishes we create."
Creating is right. On the day I left, general manager Jean- Pierre Baratin suggested that I try something he's been thinking about. "What is it?" I asked. "Lemon grass tea." Two glasses came to the table, I took a sip and thought I caught a taste of ginger. "No, there's no ginger in it," he said, "but I think it may need some." Now there you have an glimpse into the process of creation, which of course is what the art of food is all about.
Another thing ... when the waiter comes around with the basket of rolls, choose the black one. It's made of ketan hitam (black rice).
-- Lucullus