Plain fooders Don and Rory are lost causes, and I confess to knowingly serving ethnic foods that are torture on a plate to them. But my 12-year-old son Kieran is another story.
Like me, he has always been interested in trying new things so I didn’t have to look far for a companion when I saw an Indonesian culture and food festival advertised in this morning’s paper.
I’m relatively familiar with Indonesian cuisine but it has a very low profile in New Zealand due to our miniscule Indonesian population (3261, according to the 2006 census).
Most of the Indonesian food I’ve tried has been of the satay / gado gado / beef rendang variety but I know there’s far more to the cuisine than those dishes. Needless to say, I was seeking something at the more ‘interesting’ end of the scale when Kieran and I headed off to the festival.
Like the local Indonesian population, the festival was small; four or five food stalls, a similar number of craft stalls, and a simple programme of movies and cultural performances.
True to form, I steered us towards the food stalls with the weirdest looking offerings. Here's what we bought:
Croquettes that I think were made from pancakes stuffed with carrot sticks and something else, crumbed and deep fried. Served with a very tasty peanut sauce (and a blob of hot chilli sauce for me!). |
Croquette innards. |
Steamed coconut flavoured cakelets. Nice. |
To be honest, none of it knocked my socks off but it was nevertheless great to try the real deal and we’ll be back for more next year.
What did knock my socks off, however, was Kieran’s willingness to try everything. He didn’t like all of it, but was still open to the experience.
I’m so proud to be his mum!
And if you fell in love with one of the mysterious unidentified puddles, how would you ever be able to order it again.
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