I used to be somewhat snobbish
towards ‘fusion’ cuisine, but the fact is, I was eating it from as far back as
I can remember. Having an Indonesian mother and an English father while growing
up in New Zealand, I wouldn’t exactly call the food we ate on a daily basis typical
of what others my age my age were eating. I suppose it’s not necessarily something
you hone in on at such a young age, but I do have early memories of sleepovers at
my best friend’s house and her mother would be preparing “risotto” or “pasta”
from a pack. I remember thinking “My mum doesn’t
use packs like that” and looking down at my plate and seeing things that didn’t
really look or taste much like what I knew rice or pasta should taste like.
My mother was, and still is, a
fantastic cook. My introduction to cooking from scratch started from an early
age. I would crouch on the kitchen floor helping mum grind various spices and
shallots into creamy pastes with her giant pestle and mortar in preparation of
making my favourite Indonesian dish Ayam
Opor. I would help her toss plump chicken pieces in flour, beaten egg and seasoned
breadcrumbs that she would later bake and serve in little baskets lined with
paper towels (No KFC for us). I would peek out the back door and watch her scale,
gut and behead large fish, slicing them into fillets ready to be grilled. I
would, on occasion watch live crabs reach out from the kitchen sink, hoping to
find their way back to the coast, but instead only finding their way to the
bottom of a boiling pan. I would lean over the stove stirring sauces, stir
fries and soups, all the while my mum would pass on little nuggets of
information that I would hold on to and remember for years to come.
Coming from a bicultural family
meant we had a few interesting dishes that appeared regularly. My dad’s
favourite dish, and my least favourite, consisted of steak, fried eggs, baked
beans and chips. We also had chicken paprika that was served with rice, tuna
casserole that would be served with lettuce cups, and steak and kidney
casserole served alongside, weirdly enough, prawn crackers. This was all very
normal to me, and it was really only recently when I was discussing steak and
kidney pie with my boyfriend that it popped into my head that perhaps prawn
crackers were not the usual accompaniment to steak and kidneys at all!
I definitely have my mother to
thank for my early introduction to cooking, and my great appreciation of food.
Having said that, it’s because my
mother is such a good cook that I find replicating her recipes more than just a
little intimidating. I remember her watching me make peanut sauce and her
comment “That’s… interesting…” still
lingers in my mind and I can still picture her hovering behind me, noting how
my recipe or techniques vary from hers. Still, I persevere, and though I don’t cook
as much Indonesian food as I’d like, you will find my versions here, alongside
various other cuisines that I have made, bought or eaten.
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