This is a large tree which produces almost nothing that is of any use to anybody except for its large, handsome seeds. These can be processed to give a good cooking-oil, they can be eaten by themselve if they are carefully prepared, and they are among the ingredients of several fine dishes (e.g. Rawon), to which they give a distinctive flavour and a denser colour. Don’t be put off by Burkill’s notes on the poisonous nature of these seeds. By the time they reach market, either in the east or in Holland, they have been made completely safe, and I have used them in family cooking here in England many times without the slightest ill-effect. To prevent the poison (which is hydrocyanic acid) from forming, or to break it down after it has formed, we either boil the seeds several times, soaking them in running water in between, or, as my grandmother used to do in Sumatra, bury them for 10 or 15 minutes deep in the embers of a wood cooking-fire, where the seeds will become very hot but will not actually scorch. Then we crush and remove the shells and pound the seeds thoroughly in a large mortar. Note, by the way, that kluwek bought in Holland have been dried for the journey, and must be soaked for 30 minutes or boiled until soft before you start trying to grind them up. The inside of the nut is very dark red, frequently almost black.
This is the aromatic root or rhizome of herb that grows in many tropical countries. Like laos, it is usually dried and cut into small pieces. It must be used very sparingly in cooking because the flavour is extremely strong.
The only part of this plant that is usually in cooking is the leaf, daun jeruk purut , one or two of which are put into many of the dishes described in this book. They should be removed before serving. Dried leaves are marketed by Conimex. The English name for this leaf is Kaffir lime leaf. Many Chinese and Indian shops in Britain sell ‘curry leaves’, which are similar but not the same thing. They, or bay-leaves, can be substituted for Kaffir lime leaves, but bear in mind that bay-leaves have a stronger flavour. Use one bay-leaf instead of, say, two or three Kaffir lime leaves.
The fruit of Kaffir lime is small and contains more pips than juice, but the juice, if you can get enough of it, is good for drinks. It is also very in a sambal, as is the juice of jeruk nipis.
This is good old-fashioned Ginger, whose English ang Latin names both derive from the Sanskrit singabera This plant has been cultivated, cooked with and traded in all around the Indian Ocean and the South China Sea for many centuries.
This is usualy translated into English as galingale, again with many variant spellings.
In the east, however, laos is still commonly used cooking, though I am not so sure about its medicinal properties. Possibly they belong to a related species. Burkill quotes an old treatise on the care of elephants, which says that laos is good for sick elephants, particularly for one that has gone off its food. He also explains why the name Alpinia will not do for the genus; for Kaempferia galanga (Kencur).
Laos can be bought quite easily anywhere where there are oriental grocery stores. The rhizomes of the plant are dried and then powdered. You can sometimes also find, at any rate in London, packets of dried laos cut up into little pieces justright for cooking. Soak them in cold water before use, and remember to remove them from the dish before serving.
The ground-up seeds of cumin have been used all over the Old World for many centuries as a seasoning, although its flavour is not especially pleasant and it should be used very sparingly. Burkill refers to its ‘bed-bug-like-odour’, which is not encouraging. I have heard that in parts of Indonesia the seeds are roasted whole, like coriander, but I doubt if this would be advisable with any of the dishes.
The spices used in cooking is the ripened seed, but the leaves are very good to eat raw; they look like seledri (continental or flat-leaved parsley), but they taste and smell strongly of coriander.
Some people say that Indonesian food must be cooked in coconut oil, and there is perhaps a barely perceptible diferrence in flavour between this and vegetable oil. However, I certainly do not consider coconut oil by any means essential, and it has one serious drawback; it quickly goes rancid. Oil which is the least bit ‘on the turn’ will ruin your food. I always use vegetable oil, and vegetable oil is specified in most of the recipes.
This is a large tree which produces almost nothing that is of any use to anybody except for its large, handsome seeds. These can be processed to give a good cooking-oil, they can be eaten by themselve if they are carefully prepared, and they are among the ingredients of several fine dishes (e.g. Rawon), to which they give a distinctive flavour and a denser colour. Don’t be put off by Burkill’s notes on the poisonous nature of these seeds. By the time they reach market, either in the east or in Holland, they have been made completely safe, and I have used them in family cooking here in England many times without the slightest ill-effect. To prevent the poison (which is hydrocyanic acid) from forming, or to break it down after it has formed, we either boil the seeds several times, soaking them in running water in between, or, as my grandmother used to do in Sumatra, bury them for 10 or 15 minutes deep in the embers of a wood cooking-fire, where the seeds will become very hot but will not actually scorch. Then we crush and remove the shells and pound the seeds thoroughly in a large mortar. Note, by the way, that kluwek bought in Holland have been dried for the journey, and must be soaked for 30 minutes or boiled until soft before you start trying to grind them up. The inside of the nut is very dark red, frequently almost black.
