Fish

I had planned on writing an article on tempe today, after some research and experimenting. I was really surprised how many of you had even heard of this food and there was obviously lots for me to learn also. But, you have to go with the flow and the blip monster came up with another plan.

I was sat outside on the wall, doing cheek clenching exercises after the tempe thing, when a guy carrying two large baskets of fish arrived on the scene. All the women gathered and started picking through, so obviously a popular product. I ambled over for a gander and they were all quick to encourage me to have a try. They love it when they get the big guy to experiment.

I was still worried about my stomach after the tempe experiment and was reluctant to give my friend another hammering, but seeing as it did not smell of rotting fish and didn’t need cooking, I decided to take the standard three for Rp10,000 which is roughly 50p.

After washing up, as this was a finger job, I pulled out all the sharp bits, but it seemed pointless, as they all collapsed in my fingers. I tried to break off a bit of steak, but again, the whole back snapped off, so I popped into my mouth, ready to tackle the plethora of bones about to come my way. Nothing! All the bones were soft, like in a tin of tuna, this was going to be easy.

Although there was very little odor, the flavor was quite intense, a bit like treacle. I had no idea how the fish was cooked or prepared, but I suspected that it was another fermentation thing, possibly based around cecap (ketchup) manis, which is a soy sauce type thing. The thought of fermenting fish is not one that tickles the taste buds of the imagination, but this guy has eaten Surströmming, that makes me more Swedish than a lot of Swedes. I could probably get a Swedish passport on the strength of that experience. This fish was not going to intimidate this guy.

Living in a kampung is a life experience and if you don’t try everything that presents, then you are cheapening the experience and missing gaps in the documentary of life. A valuable experience is worth risking a night on the loo, especially as everyone else is happy to be tucking in.

Within a few minutes, the lot was consumed, heads and all. The most difficult part was standing up from the floor without touching anything with my very messy, sticky hands. A fairly interesting culinary experience, perhaps not one I would serve to my son, John, who as a lad, used to pick the onions off his burger, but I would certainly try it again, providing I get through the night. It has already been nearly two hours and things seem fairly calm. Let’s hope there is no storm.

DAve