In every city, there is bound to be a place spoken about like an urban legend. Word of mouth spreads like wildfire, yet not every person who has talked about it has eaten there. They seem to be discouraged by its hole-in-the-wall location, insiders-only crowd.
Maybe I went overboard. But still. For me, this place is one of those legends. My cousins used to talk about this place, how a bowl was never enough, how no matter how many mi kocok stalls dot this city's streets, this one would still be the best. If I wasn't with my family, I wouldn't have the guts to go and order a bowl. There's something menacing about ordering food in a completely foreign place, where everybody seem to know how things work, except you.
My parents placed the order, and came before me a bowl of steaming, murky broth, accompanied with some noodles, sprouts, bakso, and kikil. I seasoned it to my liking, which is (as always) a generous helping of salt, vinegar, and chili. Absolutely no kecap manis. I mixed everything together, and tried the broth first.
Man. It was heavenly. For me, the beauty of dishes like this is its unpretentiousness, something I value highly. It's just food, honestly prepared. Steaming hot and spicy, the broth fatty. Every spoonful should contain some noodles, kikil, and sprouts. I used to hate beansprouts. But now, it's like the life of the party in my bowls of food. In pho, mi kikil, and several other dishes, sprouts provide that freshness, that crunch, that unmistakable fragrance of beautiful vegetables. You'll find your spoonful miraculous. That hot broth, the soft noodles, the chewy and awesome kikil, and that crunchy sprouts. In another spoonful, be sure to include pieces of succulent bakso. In between spoonfuls, grab a kerupuk kampung and sip on good ol' teh botol. You'll be full, happy, and find yourself longing for seconds.
0 komentar:
Posting Komentar