Making Sambal
Somewhere in a distant past, one of our ancesters thought something along the lines of:
"If I were to take this funny looking bean, right, and this pepper that sets my tongue on fire, right, add some of this weird spicy fresh root and I then squash some shrimp into it, right, and drown the whole thing in coconut milk... that would be hilarious!"
As it turns out, making sambal isn't all that difficult to do. Ever since I got a blender-on-a-stick (a "staafmixer") with a matching bowl that fits the head of the blender and makes chopped vegetables into even smaller bits. I used it before to make a "boemboe", which is a herb paste that you can add to any stir-fry meal. Boemboes have really taken off here, and you can buy ready-made ones in the store. But they're not that hard to make yourself.
Nor is making sambal. The process is pretty similar: chop stuff, add some sugar and oil, make a paste and then toss everything into a wok.
Now the bowl matching my blender-on-a-stick isn't very big, so for substantial amounts you have to mix in a different bowl after chopping all the ingredients separate, or spend some money on a 'kitchen machine' to do the work. Luckily, I don't need substantial amounts of sambal.
Since I'm probably not supposed to eat any red pepper (because of my rosacea), and I swore off added sugar, this sambal is officially on my "do not eat" list. But I grew up with names like djahé and antjing busuk in my ears and the taste of sambal in every meal. There are some indonesian roots in my upbringing, after all. So I embraced my grandparents' legacy and made sambal today.
The recipe I used called for 20 red peppers, and I had four*, so I might be a bit off balance. I didn't need the whole container of 200 ml of coconut milk, nor the 50 grams of trassi (squashed shrimp) I had bought for this adventure. I added stuff as in quantities I thought were right, probably upsetting the entire balance of the dish. And not all Sambal recipes (Dutch) are this intricate.
By the way, isn't coconut milk the weirdest stuff ever? This is the first time I worked with it. There was a clear layer on top of the white stuff, and it looked and handled like thick, greasy water. So weird.
In any case, I might have overdone it with the coconut milk, but this made for a really soft yet spicy taste to my sambal. It's got a sharp taste, but since I removed all the seeds of the pepper it's not hot (pedis) at all. It's definitely a kind of Badjak sambal, since it's baked with onion and garlic and ginger.
I made two sterile jars with some sambal, to save for later or to give away, but they're tiny amounts and will last you several dinners. I put the rest in a little bowl for tonight's dinner. Mmmm.
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*) Actually, I had six. But I didn't realise it at the time, so now I can make a second batch of sambal later this week!
"If I were to take this funny looking bean, right, and this pepper that sets my tongue on fire, right, add some of this weird spicy fresh root and I then squash some shrimp into it, right, and drown the whole thing in coconut milk... that would be hilarious!"
As it turns out, making sambal isn't all that difficult to do. Ever since I got a blender-on-a-stick (a "staafmixer") with a matching bowl that fits the head of the blender and makes chopped vegetables into even smaller bits. I used it before to make a "boemboe", which is a herb paste that you can add to any stir-fry meal. Boemboes have really taken off here, and you can buy ready-made ones in the store. But they're not that hard to make yourself.
Nor is making sambal. The process is pretty similar: chop stuff, add some sugar and oil, make a paste and then toss everything into a wok.
Now the bowl matching my blender-on-a-stick isn't very big, so for substantial amounts you have to mix in a different bowl after chopping all the ingredients separate, or spend some money on a 'kitchen machine' to do the work. Luckily, I don't need substantial amounts of sambal.
Since I'm probably not supposed to eat any red pepper (because of my rosacea), and I swore off added sugar, this sambal is officially on my "do not eat" list. But I grew up with names like djahé and antjing busuk in my ears and the taste of sambal in every meal. There are some indonesian roots in my upbringing, after all. So I embraced my grandparents' legacy and made sambal today.
The recipe I used called for 20 red peppers, and I had four*, so I might be a bit off balance. I didn't need the whole container of 200 ml of coconut milk, nor the 50 grams of trassi (squashed shrimp) I had bought for this adventure. I added stuff as in quantities I thought were right, probably upsetting the entire balance of the dish. And not all Sambal recipes (Dutch) are this intricate.
By the way, isn't coconut milk the weirdest stuff ever? This is the first time I worked with it. There was a clear layer on top of the white stuff, and it looked and handled like thick, greasy water. So weird.
In any case, I might have overdone it with the coconut milk, but this made for a really soft yet spicy taste to my sambal. It's got a sharp taste, but since I removed all the seeds of the pepper it's not hot (pedis) at all. It's definitely a kind of Badjak sambal, since it's baked with onion and garlic and ginger.
I made two sterile jars with some sambal, to save for later or to give away, but they're tiny amounts and will last you several dinners. I put the rest in a little bowl for tonight's dinner. Mmmm.
-----
*) Actually, I had six. But I didn't realise it at the time, so now I can make a second batch of sambal later this week!