Breakfast seemed to be a rice cracker the size of a dinner plate, accompanied by a ginger and lemongrass tea with large chunks of ginger floating in it and a stalk of lemongrass with which to stir it. This light meal was well judged as we would be cooking a lot of food today.
Since our arrival in Bali, we have met a lot of people called Wayan, Ketut, Made and, yesterday evening, two young gentlemen by the name of Nyoman. We learned today that this is not a coincidence, as these names are prescribed for the first four children in the family. Hence, Bali is replete with people of the same name, leading to confusing social exchanges. We will learn more details about this convention later in our stay.
Our guide and head chef today was Ketut.
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| Oh, that Ketut |
With the farm set up in northern Gianyar producing crops without pesticides, he initially tried to sell them at the market as do all other plantations. However, the small, irregularly shaped organic produce could not compete against the bright, plump fruit and vegetables on display.
With no market for organic produce, Ketut had the idea to start a cooking school. And very popular it has proven to be, indeed. Since we arrived yesterday afternoon, there have been different estimates on the number of participants in today's class, ranging from 6 to 9, including us. The maximum capacity is 10, we were told. This morning, the grand total was unveiled: 13 people. Extra cooking stations have been set up and we were ready to go.
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| "Get your canang sari here, darling" |
We started with a visit to a local market. Although we were to be cooking with produce grown on site, Ketut wanted us to be familiar with how most people got their food. In all Balinese market, flowers for offerings are sold alongside the food, which in other countries might prompt consumer awareness campaigns lest people attempt to eat the inedible.
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| Veg talk |
Back at the farm, we were given conical woven basket that looked very much like something we put on our heads in Vietnam. Under instruction, we uprooted spices, harvested vegetables and picked leaves for the day's cooking.
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| Basket of plenty |
Thankfully, we were relieved of the contents of our baskets, which were taken away for cleaning and prepping. Meanwhile, we got on with tasting the different ingredients.
Being already familiar with many of the principal constituents of SE Asian cooking - ginger (jahe), turmeric (kunyit), and galangal (lengkuas) - I was intrigued by other ingredients that are fixtures for Balinese cuisine. Kencur, introduced to us as 'lesser galangal' was smaller and much paler than the standard 'greater' galangal and had a more aromatic, less spicy flavour. Candlenuts (kemiri) are also required in a basic Balinese spice paste. With the look and texture of macadamia nuts, these impart a distinctly smoky taste.
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| The class |
There then followed an approximately five-hour-long marathon of cooking and eating, from around 11AM until 4PM. It was quite the largest cooking class we have attended, in which we are typically the only people. Unlike most other lessons, in which the fruits of one's labour are enjoyed in one feast at the end, this was a steady stream of preparation, cooking and eating.
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| Sayur urab |
First up was sayur urab (also urap). This was similar to what we had eaten last night. Sayur means 'vegetable', and a selection of leaves that we had picked, plus some julienned carrot and bean sprouts were blanched briefly before being mixed with coconut hand-grated on a plank studded with tiny pins, which wouldn't have looked out of place in a Dickensian boarding school's headmaster's office.
While Ketut led the large class admirably, he didn't lay down the lesson plan in advance. I thought perhaps that we were making one or two dishes, so I filled my plate with half the vegetable salad and a big helping of the steamed rice that sat in a basket on the table. We had some very good conversation with the other participants, until we were called to action.
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| Perkedel kentang |
Next up was perkedel (or bergedel) kentang - potato fritters. The non-vegetarian guests made a slightly healthier tuna steak with raw sambal. We smashed already-cooked potatoes (kentang) and mixed them with chopped green and red bell peppers, diced onions, seasoning, egg, and a little flour, and fashioned them into balls for deep frying. They went down well, but were understandably heavy, so I offered a few around to the other fish-eaters, who enjoyed the contrast, especially the Russian contingent.
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| Tempe manis |
Expecting a desert dish to finish things off, I was surprised to hear Ketut announce that he wanted to show us tempe manis (sweet tempeh). Tempeh is one of my favourite things about Indonesian food and so I couldn't resist this. Fried chunks of tempe were mixed with shallots and heroic quantities of garlic, as well as similar amounts of palm sugar and lime juice. Lime is Ketut's twist on this classic, giving a sour edge to the sweet crunchy bites.
Surely it was time for dessert now? Apparently not. Thus far, we had merely been teasing our palates. It was time for the main event.
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| Pounding base gede |
We were instructed in the preparation of a basic Balinese spice mix, known as base gede (meaning 'big spice'). The list of ingredients was long and included copious garlic cloves, shallots, all the aforementioned root spices, plus many dried spices such as coriander seeds, peppercorns, nutmeg, cloves, and candlenuts. We duly pounded the whole lot in a wide mortar shaped like a dish.
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| Grating coconut |
We also risked bloody knuckles to grate some more coconut, out of which we squeezed the milk.
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| Opor tempe |
These two kitchen basics were destined for opor ayam, chicken coconut soup, or in our case opor tempe as we substituted the meat. We were encouraged to add generous quantities of palm sugar, which made the soup overly sweet in my opinion.
While half the spice paste simmered with the tempe, potatoes and coconut milk, we were ushered to simultaneously prepare another(!) dish.
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| Wrapping banana leaf parcels |
While the rest of the class fashioned sate sticks, we were given a class in folding banana leaf parcels.
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| Ready for steaming |
We sliced and mixed young bamboo shoot (straight from the garden!) with peppers, egg, flour, and the other half of the spice mix. Placing the mixture into a folded rectangle of banana leaf, we outside-reverse-folded (one for the origami geeks) the ends to form a triangular parcel, wrapped this with another strip of leaf and secured it with a tiny piece of twig, like a cocktail stick.
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| Hat steamer |
The conical basket we had used earlier made a comeback as a steamer, into which we deposited the green packages.
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| Tum |
Known as tum, which normally omits the bamboo root in favour of ground meat, the result was a firm little dumpling of flavour. There were many of the little things and, by now, I was feeling a little full. I passed the plate around to the others eating sate, but it was met with a less enthusiastic reception this time.
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| Pisang goreng |
Bananas signalled the end was in sight. Pisang goreng (banana fritters) are ubiquitous in Bali, so it made sense to try our hand. While a simple recipe, getting a good crunchy batter is deceptively difficult. Eggs, flour and a little water were all that went in to the coating, but it was more chewy than crisp like last night's.
My heart went out to one of the participants in the cooking class, who admitted that she had made a reservation at one of the more exclusive restaurants in Ubud for the evening. "If it's so posh, I suspect its portions will be small," I commiserated. I hope they were for her sake, as we did not eat again for the rest of the day.
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| Gamelan players |
Instead, we dined on another performance of traditional dance at ARMA. This time we enjoyed the barong and keris dance, which was again accompanied by expert percussion by a gamelan orchestra.
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| Barong ket |
As I have mentioned before, the barong is a protective spirit for good and is most often symbolised by a lion creature, known as barong ket, with a red mask and a white coat, operated by two people. It bears similarity to the Chinese lion, which is known here as barongsai.
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| Rangda and Barong |
Barong is the enemy of the leader of evil spirits, the witch Rangda.
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| Sunda and Upasunda |
The performance today told the Hindu story of two brother, Sunda (red mask) and Upasunda (white mask), who get along so famously, and have become so powerful, that the gods try to turn them on one another by sending a temptress in the form of Nilotama.
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| Nilotama |
Among some poorly judged interludes involving two hapless servants chasing a creature, and engaging in some honk parp comedy, in which the creature's tail is mistaken for another appendage, the two brothers are bewitched by the celestial nymph.
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| Keris dance |
Both smitten and each enraged at the other's impertinence, Sunda and Upasunda transform into Barong and Rangda, respectively. At the climax, the narrative become little confused, as I was expecting the brothers to destroy one another, much to the gods' satisfaction. Instead, the stage was suddenly crowded by young men in sarong and bare chests, armed with keris (dagger) and attacking Rangda. Using her sorcery, the witch seemed to make them turn the bladed on themselves, while a priest anointed all present with holy water.
The performance was fascinating, but involved more storytelling and less beautiful choreography than the legong we had previously seen.
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