Indonesia

January 22, 2023

At Columbus Symphony with David

It can feel dangerous to share; to do so places one in a vulnerable position that is open to disappointment. But, my word for this year is, “Yes”, so I find myself sharing more than I previously would. I love the symphony, and my library has a program for checking out tickets for free. It was a dream come true, but a private dream. As the only female in the house, I make assumptions based on fear, that what is interesting to me will not be adored by others. This is, of course, ridiculous. My dad loves the symphony. Truly, I was more comfortable living with the dream that the gentlemen in my house might be symphony fans, than testing the reality.

The bird-woman in Home Alone 2 says something very similar, and is chastised by Kevin because not trying has the same result as failure. I push and challenge the boys to try new foods, sign up for new activities while I quietly pretend that my patterns are what makes me happiest. I’ve now been three times to the symphony, and I am learning that I have composed the majority of my own limitations. We shall see where my assent takes me this year.

Indonesian Fried Rice

Fried Rice

This does not look like much. Certainly, we do not see the peas, carrots, egg, or shrimp suggested by the packet. If this were to have been served alone, we have added all of the embellishments. Instead, we used this as the base for our Sweet Ginger Chicken recipe.

I was happy to have the seasoning packet since my grocery did not have a single, “large red chili” called for in nearly every recipe I perused. As a dry spice packet, it worked extremely well with our fried rice. Follow the direct about chilling your rice and it will greatly improve your results. Cold rice gets coated in oil and crisps nicely. Warm rice continues to steam and becomes a blob.

Honestly, I expected more heat as I saw the flakes of red dotting the rice, but the level was below that of mild salad. It was a deep flavor and enjoyable. We had glasses of milk on stand-by, but they weren’t needed.

Her’s and Our’s

Sweet Ginger Chicken

Another way in which I am sharing, is by giving others more of a stake in this project. Ben picked out a short list of recipes, and I made the final call. This comes from a book called Fire Islands by Eleanor Ford. Did you know that Indonesia has more than 17,000 islands and only China, India, and the U.S. have more people?

The list of ingredients gives a better picture of the final taste than a photograph. Seven cloves of garlic, 3.25 inches of fresh ginger, soy sauce, oyster sauce, and a little gem called kecap manis. I was not able to find the last one in my grocery, but the mail came through on time. Kecap manis is described as sweet soy sauce, but it seemed most similar to molasses to me.

Because I don’t have a background in this type of cooking, I thought the ingredients would come together like a stir fry. I worried because those quantities of garlic and ginger would be overwhelming if still crisp. As luck would have it, I even got all of the boys to the table, anticipating service a la moment. Then, Ben called my attention to the color and thickness of the sauce in the picture.

We had ten minutes in which to read a book about Indonesia while the sauce reduced. The garlic became meltingly complex. The ginger was tamed, but still made itself known. The tomato, which Ben found so odd when envisioning a stir-fry, helped thicken and bring everything together. There were notes of it which seemed similar to a barbecue sauce, but from a family tree that split many years ago.

Today, Ben keeps mentioning how much he enjoyed this dish, and there was not a complaint or hesitation from the younger ones. Sharing seems to be going well.

M is for Movement AKA Humans Can’t Eat Golf Balls

This book is a piece of serendipity. Mostly, I search the country on my library’s website and request anything that is in stock. There have been gems and stacks of books not read. I flipped through the pages to see if it was for Sam, David, or Jakob.

What I read gripped me. A young man was given a pill by his mother before school. In class he thought he had an accident, but it was his body expelling a tape worm so large that he considered naming it. This page came mid-way through the book and painted pictures I had never thought on. The author, Innosanto Nagara, was born in Indonesia, and is a very compelling writer. (I feel like a child from Reading Rainbow attempting to give a book review without giving away the ending). If books are your way of glimpsing other lands, this one if for you.