The cigarette in his mouth was alight when I tapped his shoulder. Get acquainted.
“I’m Rofiq from Broken Pitch,” he said after I introduced myself.
Rofiq, from 14.00 (5/10), has been at the Jogja National Museum. He’s spent all day preparing the exhibition displays, and tonight he’ll be taking a rest. He wanted to enjoy the dress rehearsal while waiting for the grilled fish. That’s the only dish that’s yet to be finished.
“The chef must be nervous. His dish is awaited by hundreds of people, who won’t be frazzled?” said Rofiq, who then laughed.
After some time, the Director of the Biennale Jogja XVI Gintani Nur Apresia Swastika approached the stands where we gathered.
“Thank you for the hard work, please enjoy!” she said.
Like ants to sugar, guests and artists flocked to the dining area. It’s located west of the main stage, divided into three zones: main buffet, drinks table, and snack table. And one more: the grill kitchen where the chef Rofiq roasted.
The line for the buffet was split into two, one for each side of the table. I took my spot in one and stuck out my neck to glimpse the menu available. Not far away, there’s a sweet and sour fish. Near it is coconut milk shrimp. Just a step away from me is a papaya stew garnished with anchovies. Seafood, all of them.
The brain of this buffet’s menu is Nunung, a member of the 56 Public Kitchen assigned to the showroom west of the dining area. She explained that all the dishes were nautical. They’re representing local cultures, starting from the coast of Sumatra, the north coast of Java, to the eastern islands.
“Oceania is not about location, but the nautical spirit,” he said.
Who knows if the nautical spirit also affects the spirit of eating, but at least that’s what happened to Salimah: an artist I met at one of the stands.
“I tried all of them,” she answered, laughing when asked about the side dish she was enjoying.
The same thing happened to the Broken Pitch members near the buffet. President, he said his nickname was. Okay. The president took a pile of rice with shredded fish and grated coconut.
“This is kohu-kohu. Raw fish, Maluku’s dish. Nice!” the artist from Tidore said enthusiasm.
According to Nunung, kohu-kohu was indeed cooked by a fellow artist from the East. Lembata, Flores to be precise. He regaled his story with a glass of coconut water or degan.
“Is degan from Oceania too?” I asked.
“Of course not. But it is part of the nautical category. However, my degan will taste different and better,” he concluded casually and took a sip of his drink.
