cooking schools – ALMOST ITALIAN

A New Peanut Sauce for Gado Gado

I’ve been on the lookout for some time now for a more authentic Indonesian peanut sauce to crown a gado gado salad or sate sticks. I’ve tried many recipes from my various Indonesian cookbooks and most seem to miss the mark. Indonesian sate sauce differs from island to island and each Indonesian home cook may highlight a distinctive spice in their sauce. I’ve tasted some dark, thick sauces in Java and Sumatra which are quite different from their Balinese counterparts. The same goes with the classic gado gado vegetable salad, a dish which depends on an excellent peanut sauce. I’ve eaten some completely green gado gado salads in Ubud, Bali and some made from only kangkung (water-spinach) in Sumatra, as well as the old-fashioned mixed steamed vegetable gado gado that I learnt around 35 years ago in my early visits to Bali, which includes hard-boiled eggs.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA — Basic ingredients for a good peanut sauce

The following recipe comes from Janet de Neefe’s Bali, The Food of My Island Home. Janet runs a cooking school in Ubud, which I attended a few years ago, and also has three restaurants and a lovely guesthouse in Ubud. She has lived in Ubud for more than 30 years with her Balinese husband and family. Note that I often substitute brown sugar for palm sugar, a switch that makes very little difference to the outcome of the sauce. Balinese peanuts are always super fresh and freshly roasted: try to find a reliable source of freshly roasted nuts. Good Indonesian Krupuk Udung ( prawn crackers) are quite different from the ubiquitous supermarket variety. They are large and tastier and can be found in many Asian groceries.

Bumbu Kacang– Balinese Peanut Sauce

Ingredients

slice of shrimp paste/ Belachan/Terasi equivalent to 1/2 teaspoon
4 garlic cloves
1 long thin red chilli, seeded and roughly chopped
2 small red chillies, roughly chopped
2 kaffir lime leaves, rolled into a bundle and finely shredded
2- 3 tablespoons fried shallots ( optional)
1 tablespoon grated palm sugar
1 tablespoon Kecap Manis
1/4 medium tomato
150 gr peanuts, roasted
3 + tablespoons water
2 teaspoons lime juice
sea salt

My gado gado- using vegetables mon hand — My gado gado- using vegetables on hand

Method.

Hold the piece of shrimp paste with tongs or pierce with a skewer and roast over a gas flame on both sides until the smell is strong.

Blitz the shrimp paste, garlic chillies, lime leaves, fried shallots, palm sugar, and kecap manis in a food processor until smooth. Add a splash of water to get the mixture moving. Add the tomato, peanuts, water, lime juice and salt to taste. ( For a sauce with deeper flavour, you can fry the garlic, chilli, untoasted shrimp paste and tomato in 2 tablespoons of neutral oil ( not Olive) until fragrant first)

Prepare your gado gado vegetables or sate. Pour over the peanut sauce and garnish with krupuk udang ( prawn crackers)

Krupuk Udang. Balinse Prawn crackers — Krupuk Udang. Balinese Prawn crackers

A simpler version of Peanut Sauce can be found here, the latter useful for camping.

Photo on header taken at Taman Sari in Pemuteran, Northern Bali, where they make an excellent Bumbu Kacang.

Guide to Cooking Schools in Asia

Attending a cooking school in Asia is a satisfying holiday activity. These classes are usually cheap ( somewhere between AU $20- $40 per person ) and last for around three hours or so. You will usually learn 3 – 5 dishes, and in the better schools, will also come away with a greater understanding of the culinary traditions of the country. I have enjoyed cooking schools in Indonesia, Thailand, India and Vietnam. Each one was memorable and each had its highlights. These days, however, I am quite selective about the classes I wish to attend.

The price for a class will often include:

a pick up from your hotel
a trip to the local market to buy ingredients and introduce you to the local produce.
a menu which will invariably include savory fried starters – spring rolls and paper rolls for example, with slight variations from country to country.
a noodle dish
one other meat dish (usually chicken)
separate small cooking stations for participants
Market lady making fresh Bánh phở noodles.

Once you have mastered the spring roll/paper roll thing, it’s time to move on. If you have already been to the local market in the town you are visiting, there’s no need to visit again with a cooking school. I prefer to go to the market for a whole morning, to wander through all the stalls slowly, taking lots of photos along the way. The local markets are usually hot, dark and very cramped and although at times I get hassled, I love this total immersion in local food and culture. It is one thing I must do in every Asian town, big or small.

Many cooking schools claim to cater for vegetarians in their menu selections, but this usually means substituting tofu for meat in the same dishes cooked by the other members of the class. In curry dishes in Thailand, they will substitute a few vegetables. In other words, you won’t be learning much about the real vegetarian traditions of that country. Menus offering fish will be far more expensive. Fish is a costly item in Asia so will rarely appear on a cooking class menu.

Small fish stall at Hoi An market. Mackeral is the best option in Asia — Small fish stall at Hoi An market. Mackerel is the best fish option in Asia.

Consider the following before choosing a school:

if the cooking school is attached to a restaurant, eat there first. Read their menu and get an idea about the quality of the food and its authenticity. Some of these schools tone things down for the Western palate.
check on class sizes. I once attended a famous cooking class in Ubud, Bali, where the class size blew out to 20 or more. Too many people meant very little hands on learning. It was very impersonal and depended entirely on the presentation and personality of the celebrity chef. Ask about the class size and the number of cooking stations. Any number over 8 is too many.
Make sure that the dishes you will be cooking sound appealing. There is no point in learning something that you won’t cook at home.
If you are an experienced cook, consider taking a private class. It will cost you a few more dong, bhat, rupees or rupiah but in the end, you get to make more complex dishes and ask more questions. They usually require two people to attend. Also negotiate the menu before hand. This might be done on the morning of the class.
Make sure that you will be taught by someone who has a good command of English and preferably a cook or chef. In larger classes, young trainers who have learnt a set repertoire will take you through the dishes. This leaves little room for in-depth questions or discussion of culinary traditions.
Have a light breakfast. You will need a healthy appetite to eat everything you make.
Take a pen and notebook. Some schools will give you a little recipe book but making your own notes is more valuable.
Take lots of photos – a great reminder of technique as well as providing inspiration when you get home.
Above. A vegetarian soup made from two stocks- one a vegetable stock, the other a deep mushroom stock. The soup contains rice noodles, vegetarian wonton, mushrooms, fried tofu, rau ( a kind of green vegetable) and Vietnamese mint. It is deeply satisfying. Minh Hien Restaurant, Hoi An, Vietnam. The recipes at this restaurant are complex and full of flavour and were passed down to Nhiem, the chef, from his grandmother.

Cao lầu noodles from Hoi An. These special local noodles are made with water sourced from an ancient Cham well. They turn up in most local restaurants in Hoi An but once you leave that town, they are not the same. Vietnamese food is very regional.

Balinese Fish Curry. Tropical Nirvana

Hot balmy nights, evening white wines in a shady garden, a Balinese fish curry, these little pleasures are to be savoured, fleeting moments conjuring food memories of my other ‘spiritual’ home, Bali.

Indonesian food goes very well with Melbournian summers. Some dishes are simple and economical: others demand some effort, especially this fresh Balinese fish curry, with its long list of ingredients for the paste, involving a market trip to an Asian grocery to source some of the more unusual ingredients. A good home-made curry paste makes all the difference. It really is worth the effort.

I learnt this classic Balinese fish curry at Janet deNeefe’s Casa Luna cooking school, which is attached to the Honeymoon guest house in Ubud, Bali. The curry sauce is rich, fragrant and complex and tastes just like Bali on a plate.

Preparing the curry ingredients at the Casa Luna Cooking school, Ubud.

The paste being ground in the huge Uleg. — The paste being ground in the huge Uleg at Casa Luna, Ubud.

The curry paste.

6 garlic cloves,
1 teaspoon of shrimp paste/belacan/terasi ( toast over a flame before adding)
3 large chilli, seeded. These chillies are not hot but give colour and depth of flavour.
1 tablespoon fresh turmeric ( substitute dried powder if unavailable)
2 teaspoons fresh ginger
3 candlenuts ( or use macadamia nuts )
1 teaspoon tamarind
1/4 teaspoon peppercorns. I prefer white.
2 stalks lemon grass, white section only. Save leaves and stems for adding to Asian stock.
3 shallots, roughly chopped.
1 large tomato
3 small hot chillies
2 tablespoons galangal
1.2 tablespoon kencur ( not available locally)
1 tablespoon coriander seeds
2 teaspoons palm sugar
stalk of torch ginger (optional)
pinch of nutmeg

Prepare the ingredients by roughly chopping larger items. Put everything into a large Uleg, mortar and pestle or food processor and grind to a smooth paste. I began mine in the uleg (an Indonesian mortar) but quickly switched to the processor. You may need to add a little oil to blend them in a processor.

Home prepped ingredients in my little uleg — Back home. Prepped ingredients in my little uleg

Other ingredients

400 grams of fresh mackerel in chunks ( 3 cm by 3 cm) ( or any firm fish that is suitable to curry) I used sea bass. NOTE. I would recommend 600-700 gr of chosen fish.
2 tablespoons cooking oil, NOT olive oil.
3 salam leaves ( not available fresh in Melbourne)
1 lemongrass, bruised and tied in a knot,
1 torch ginger shoot bruised ( hard to find in Melbourne)
salt to taste
1/2 cup or more of coconut milk
3 kaffir lime leaves
1.12 cups water.
Cook the curry paste in oil, adding lime leaves and lemon grass.

After making the curry paste, by mortar or processor, heat a little plain oil in a wok and add paste to the hot oil, along with lemon grass tied in a knot and the lime leaves. Also add the salam leaves and torch ginger if you happen to have them. Stir around. Next add the chunks of fish, stirring around until they change colour, for a minute or two.

Add 1 cup of water, simmer gently then add the coconut milk. I use more than the stated 1/2 cup . Just add and taste. 1- 1/2 cups is about right for me. Check seasoning and add salt to taste.

As I had more sauce and not so much fish, I added a handful of green prawns, unshelled. Cooking them with shells on adds to the depth of flavour, imparting a fragrant tropical bouillabaisse sensation.

Have the rice cooking while making the curry. Balinese tend to use fat rice: Australian medium grain rice is perfect with this dish. Serve the curry in a big bowl with chopped coriander and lime wedges if you are lucky enough to have some.