Archive for January 2011

One Indonesian Nation, Under Spice

Diana Kartika Jahja’s job as a program director for the Indonesian International Education Foundation requires her to travel overseas regularly. While the 38-year-old is happy to make the frequent trips, she misses the spiciness of Indonesian cuisine while she is abroad.

“It is hard because I don’t like Western food with all the cheese and stuff. I always crave Indonesian food, spicy food,” she said.

“I usually eat anything that is similar to it, although I’ve never found anything close to its taste.

“I especially cannot imagine eating bakso [meatball soup] or chicken porridge without sambal [chili sauce]. It would taste bland,” she said.

The Indonesian love affair with spicy food is such an important part of the national culture.

The months-long skyrocketing price of chilies in Indonesian markets have been a ‘national tragedy’.

With chili prices hovering around Rp 100,000 ($11) a kilogram, President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono called on households to start planting their own chili.

Rising chili prices have been particularly hard on food vendors.

Tri Handono, who sells rujak (fruit salad in spicy peanut sauce) in Central Jakarta, said he would risk losing customers if he tampered with the spicy bite of his peanut sauce.

“I cannot increase the price of the rujak either because customers wouldn’t buy it. Rujak is not something they have to eat daily, so they’ve got nothing to lose if they don’t eat it,” the 52-year-old said.

“This thing about Indonesians and chili really fascinates me.”

Tri Agustin’s passion for spicy food is somewhat extreme when compared to the average chili enthusiast.

The Cirebon, West Java, resident took some time out from her busy schedule during a recent trip to Jakarta to eat at her favorite warung in Tomang, West Jakarta.

The warung, Indomie Abang Adek, is famous for its somewhat unusual menu.

“The noodles I am eating have been cooked with 100 chilies,” the 36-year-old said.

“It’s good. Totally mouth-watering.”

Indomie Abang Adek serves only instant noodles but offers its customers the option of selecting how many chilies they want added to their food with: 100, 70, 50, 15 and five.

The chilies are boiled before being blended with the Indomie seasoning.

The warung owner, Sartono, said some of his customers insist on coming into the kitchen to count the chilies he puts into their dish.

“I have been cooking and selling instant noodle since 1975, but only introduced this chili menu two years ago because most of my customers wanted it,” he said.

“Sometimes I don’t understand Indonesians and this fanaticism when it comes to chili.”

Anthropologist Meutia Hatta believes she has the answer.

“Eating is part of a culture. The dining habits of a community are greatly influenced by the geographical conditions where people live,” she said.

“Our land grows spices. We have mountains where chilies grow well.”

Meutia said that when she went to the United States in 1968 chilies were virtually unheard of.

“Immigrants, including from Korea and Vietnam, brought the spices, mainly chilies, with them because they knew they were going to need them. The same thing goes for rice. It is something they consumed on a daily basis,” she said.

“Thanks to them, chilies are easily found there now.”

According to Meutia a person’s preference for certain types of food is shaped before they are born.

“We are likely to like what our mothers frequently ate when they were pregnant with us because we are familiar with the taste,” she said. “

So when mothers like eating spicy food, it is likely the babies, when they grow up, will follow the same pattern.”

It is not surprising then that it is not just adults who love chili in their food.

Some parents boast about how much their children like it.

“For them, this means their children have better immunity than other kids,” Meutia said.

But spicy food has taken its toll on some people. Some chilli enthusiasts admit to suffering gastric problems.

Five-year-old Maura experienced a mild gastric health issue last year due to the large number of chilies in her diet.

She has been a fan of spicy food since she was only two and a half years old, said her grandmother, Neng Hasnah.

“She will refuse to eat if the food we have at home is not spicy,” Neng said.

“The doctor told us to carefully watch her diet, but Maura doesn’t seem to understand.”

Sartono, the warung owner, said that in the two years since he introduced his spicy menu at Indomie Abang Adek he has seen some of his customers pass out and some even rushed to the hospitals

“They know they cannot really bear the spiciness but they are too stubborn,” he said.

“And, of course, they cannot file a complaint against me because they ordered it themselves. I didn’t tell them to eat spicy food.”

Diana said that although she still eats spicy foods, she started to cut back on the chilies a few years ago for health reasons.

“Spicy food triggered the gastric problems that I have,” she said.

“Besides, as I grow older, my body is not as strong as it used to be. Age does not lie.

“But what can I say, I find spicy food delicious. So, although not as much, I still eat it.”

Indonesian Designer Nikicio’s New Collection Is Dangerous and Proud

For the past three years, young Indonesian designer Nina Karina Nikicio has worked hard to establish her label, Nikicio. Focusing on wearable pieces and classic styles, the label is receiving more and more recognition each year. Under Nikicio, Nina designs for four different lines that include men’s and women’s wear.

On Wednesday night, Nina held a fashion show to display her new collection at The Goods Dept, the concept department store which opened in Plaza Indonesia two weeks ago. It is the ninth store to sell Nikicio’s collections, which can also be found in Bandung, Bali, Singapore and Amsterdam.

Boutique Sees Batik as Masterpiece


The house at the corner of a quiet residential area in West Cilandak, South Jakarta, is not imposing. Its gray steel gates are half-obscured by the lush hedgerows surrounding the house. There is no sign or marker to indicate the gallery inside. Yet its loyal patrons, who include the city’s socialites and expatriates, recognize Srihana Batik Tulis (Srihana Handmade Batik) as one of the capital’s most prestigious boutiques. 

While the gallery-cum-boutique specializes in showcasing masterpieces by Indonesia’s batik maestros, it also stocks kebaya (traditional blouses), jewelry and even sandals.

Exhibition of surreal Bali

A rare sight: Family members carry the remains of Tjokorde Istri Muter up the cremation tower during one of the last Ubud royal family cremations. Many people admire John Stanmeyer for the award-winning images he creates, others are in awe of his seemingly infinite raw energy.
I adore him for that innocent, almost childish, enthusiasm he always displays whenever he takes on a new assignment, embraces a new culture, or shakes hands with new people.

That enthusiasm lends him, and his works, an aura of freshness, and gives off the impression of somebody or something alive and kicking.

That enthusiasm is also very infectious, relentlessly drawing everybody around him to accept that the world is not a very bad place, after all.

Chasing the rainbow

A Bali moment: Children walk on the beach for the Melasti ritual at Kuta beach. JP/Stanny Angga
A young barber from Padang in Sumatra has been on the road for a decade. Now 25 years of age, Marcel Arde lives and works in Bali after spending a few years hard slog in the nation’s teeming capital, Jakarta.
At just 15, Marcel struck out on his own to try his luck in the big smoke, carrying with him his tools of trade, scissors, a cutthroat barber’s razor and the hairdressing skills he had picked up from friends in his home village of Solok on Padang’s outskirts. 

Riding buses and ferries and sleeping rough, Marcel was carrying on the traditions of his Minang culture, meranto cino, where young men leave the nest to seek their fortune in the wider world.

Going back to the roots of batik in Pekalongan

Still noble: A batik artist stamps a pattern onto a cloth at the workshop of Nur Cahyo, another batik producer Edo Hutabarat works with, in Pekalongan, Central Java.Designer Edward Hutabarat was sitting cross-legged on the floor of one of the oldest Peranakan Chinese batik producer’s house in Kedungwuni, Pekalongan. Piles of colorful batik tulis (hand-painted batik) worth Rp 10 million were scattered on the ground in front of him.


Next to him, batik producer Liem Poo Hien, with a pen and paper, a nervous smile and a frown, carefully noted down Edo’s — as the designer is popularly called — instructions.