By Patricia Lee Sharpe
Java has its own version of the Indian epic known as the Mahabharata and its own ways of telling the story. All or parts are usually presented during night long puppet shows, sometimes via shadow puppets made of leather, sometimes via stick puppets, but always manipulated and narrated by masterful dalangs backed up by singers and a gamelan ensemble. Typically the Javanese versions also feature interludes of repartee thanks to a supplementary cast of beloved ignoble characters, who inject comic relief as the inexorable cosmic tragedy unfolds. Think Shakespeare, as in Romeo and Juliet, where puns and lewd humor serve the same purpose.
It's hard to envision Romeo dealing with a plate of slippery spaghetti much less Arjuna spilling soup on his dhoti, but the comic characters are allowed all the crude human functions like eating and drinking, etc., etc. And the audience certainly needs sustenance. So today I'm presenting, as my last salute to Farmers' Market vegetable soups, a version of soto ayam madura, which is to say chicken soup Madura style. Madura is a large island hovering in a broad bay just off the city of Surabaya in East Java, but some version of soto ayam is available wherever street food is offered in Sumatra as well as Java.
Join me in Indonesia. It's dusk at last. Strings of little electric lights are suddenly asparkle, to keep the gathering darkness at bay, with the help of the oil lamps standing on many tables and shop counters. The equatorial air is cooling, at last, and a hint of a breeze makes the evening even more refreshing, so the street is thronged with people shopping or strolling, like you. You pass food vendors selling boiled crabs or chicken satay or morsels of rice wrapped in banana leaves---or beer, realize you are hungry and slide into a bench facing a table laid with plastic or old fashioned oilcloth. A huge bowl, a cheap Chinese export, is plunked down in front of you, usually with a mouth-stretching stainless steel spoon, occasionally with a porcelain scoop. An island that's really a chicken leg or breast rises from a steaming lake of savory broth that barely covers a generous serving of rice and vegetables. In case the spicing doesn't burn enough, you may choose among bottles and shakers full of red stuff to make the meal as mouth-tingling as you like. Slurp! Slurp! Delicious!
Soto ayam also makes for a fun dinner at home. So here's how, with one caveat. Adjust all amounts to feed the gang you expect at the table:
Cut a chicken into serving-sized pieces, load it in a big pot and cover it with plenty of water. Throw in a piece of ginger half the size of your thumb and three fat cloves of garlic roughly chopped. Follow up with a tablespoon each of ground coriander and cumin plus a teaspoon of freshly ground black pepper. To make a richer broth, I also add a large onion, two carrots and three stalks of celery, all chopped. Sometimes I throw in six whole cloves. Simmer. When the chicken is done, still moist but not bloody inside, which could be within 30 minutes or less, remove the pieces you'll be serving, leaving the neck and back and tail and heart and gizzard in the broth while you boil it down for a more intense flavor. Once you are satisfied with the broth, turn off the heat, strain the broth and return it and chicken to the pot for reheating just before serving.
Meanwhile, you will have set your rice to cooking, and you have chopped up lots of green onions and a pile of fresh coriander. Now slice a lime or two into eighths. Finally, steam some green beans and some smallish cabbage wedges. While these are still a bit crunchy, add a few handfuls of bean sprouts to the steamer. All will be ready to serve in a minute or so.
Yes, you may add or substitute any other vegetables you happen to like as much or better. Home cooking needs to be free and creative. Personalized, not slavish. If you want something pure and absolutely authentic, find a restaurant or take a trip to Indonesia, which isn't a bad idea, actually, though a bit more expensive.
To serve: empty the reheated broth and chicken into a large bowl or tureen, which you'll set in the middle of the table. Arrange the vegetables, hot from the steamer, on a platter, and put the chopped coriander, the chopped green onions and the lime segments into little bowls for easy passing around. Finally, provide a bowl of sambal olek, which is a paste of red chilis - no vinegar, no onions, nothing but chili. This is the only exotic ingredient, and these days it's available in most grocery stores.
Now the fun begins. Everyone starts with an empty soup dish and fills it up with chicken, broth, rice, vegetables and condiments in any old order. Boarding house reach is a plus, when it comes skewering slabs of chicken or ladling hot chicken broth. This, naturally, leads to near collisions and much laughter - definitely an ice breaker, a wonderful comic interlude in the terrible seriousness of life and love.
Squeeze some lime over the combo. Stir in some sambal olek. As I said before: Slurp! Slurp!
Should there, by some miracle, be any leftovers, the solution is simple: dump everything (except the limes) into a pot for reheating the next day. I'd debone the chicken at this point, but it's hardly necessary.
Photos of Indonesian stick puppets by Patricia Lee Sharpe.
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