Bali and Your Belly - Padang!

Street food in the far east has a far different connotation than it does here in North America, and while we are catching up, the variety and freshness are still incomparable. Padang is not just food, it is an experience. While it is not street food in the conventional sense, think of these mini-restaurants as take out stops where most Balinese order and zip off with plastic bags on their mopeds. Sit down (hidang) Padang exists throughout Indonesia, yet the few we saw had limited seating which was usually empty. This location pictured was run by Muslim Balinese, not too common in this predominantly Hindu nation. For the best experience, we asked our driver to take us to his favourite Padang shop. He couldn't stop smiling the whole way.

Padang is an activity in ordering - my initial attempt was overwhelming. 'How do I start?' I asked. As usual, the Balinese proprietor was very helpful, explaining the process as I went. First, you select your items. Most dishes are peppery, salty, and/or sauced with a coconut milk base. The meat stews tend to this chilli coconut taste. They have something like curried hard boiled eggs, dried and salted fish which looked like pomfrets, steamed greens, salty unsauced grilled chicken, and various curries, usually of organ or fibrous cuts. You pay only for the items you select. The order is then placed on a banana leaf on top of a pile of steamed rice (which absorbs any yummy sauce) and wrapped up for the journey. Condiments? I (of course) asked for hot sauce, and instead of dousing it over our food, they packed a little plastic bag, tying it off at the top (the way Enrique does with produce, lol) and sending us on our way with a smile. I cannot emphasize how friendly the Balinese are.

In every culture that eats from banana leaf (including ours), they claim it flavours the food. Nothing overt, but there is a tastiness imparted from the experience. When I see a leaf, I unconsciously want to use my hands to eat, but this time, eating on our bed, I decided a fork would be best. Once we returned to our room I brought a tray to the bed, laid out the food, and found a glass in which I could place and unravel the plastic bag of pepper sauce (see below). We settled in to silence as we enjoyed the first few mouthfuls. Sure we were hungry (not a day went by in Bali where we weren't exhausted by the evening), but that food was just the sort of hearty dinner you would expect from someone's home. It was comforting. It was spicy (yes, we both needed some additional pepper sauce). And after a refreshing shower and settling in, it was the perfect sedative. Sure it's glistening with fat, but it's the good kind - the kind that comes naturally from the food, not processed like a dirty water hot dog, but from food that was recently cooked from fresh ingredients bought that exact day. And if there is one thing I can appreciate about any given culture, it's the drive to keep local food and heritage flavours alive and on a plate. I don't care if we have to venture away from the tourist dense strip of burger joints and fried chicken to get it.