Balinese Base Gede Spice Paste
Once, on a trip back from visiting my family in Bali, I had an overweight suitcase. The official at the counter joked about me having rocks in my bag, which was sort of funny, because I did.
More specifically, I had a batu base (aka penguyegan aka cobek and ulekan), a traditional Balinese lava rock mortar and pestle, made into a distinctive shape that allows for smushing rather than smashing. This single tool is what Indonesian cooks have used for generations to pound the ingredients for their spice pastes (bumbu) into submission, a stone-age Cuisinart that’s as useful in the kitchen today as it was on the day some prehistoric person realized that smashing food between two hard things generally improved it.
And I carried that batu halfway across the world on the way back because I don’t think Balinese food tastes quite the same when the spice pastes are whizzed in a food processor, which slices the cells instead of smashing them—Italian cooks prefer smashed pesto to blended for the same reason. You do not actually need an Indonesian batu, of course; any large stone mortar and pestle will do the trick. But that was during an even more pedantic phase of my life (trust me, I was worse) and I thought maybe the particular nubby texture of the batu stone, or the stone itself, might impart some essential texture or flavor to the food unachievable with mere marble. If it does, I can’t tell. I have several mortar and pestle sets of different sizes and now I just use the one that fits the volume of my ingredients.
Which brings us to the concept of volume. The recipe below for Bali’s most ubiquitous, basic spice paste makes about 450 grams, which is enough to make for roughly three different dishes that serve 2-4 people. But it involves a lot of shallots, and rock-hard galangal, and piles of garlic, and if I mashed it all to a pulp by hand, I personally would be at it all day. By way of compromise, I start the ingredients off in my electricity-powered food processor before removing them to the stone in batches and smushing them into the desired rough paste consistency.
This particular paste is the bedrock of many Balinese dishes, of course, but you can also just use it as a rub for roast chicken, a basis for vegetable soup, or a quasi-instant route to fried rice. My brother-in-law insists that people are “sleeping on Balinese food” and, as in most things, he is correct. This is step one to your awakening.
TROUBLESOME INGREDIENTS
Some of the ingredients in this recipe are practically impossible to acquire outside of Indonesia. Don’t let that stop you, just leave them out or substitute them with something similar.
Kencur, aka “lesser galangal”, “cutcherry”, “aromatic ginger” or kaempferia galanga, is a wee rhizome with a camphor-like flavor that appears in practically every Balinese recipe but which one just cannot acquire fresh in the US. Either substitute with a teaspoon or so of powdered kencur, which one can order online. It is also fine to leave it out. It won’t taste quite the same, but will still be delicious, and maybe that’s the true meaning of memory.
Candlenuts - Candlenuts are like large macadamia nuts that happen to be mildly toxic unless thoroughly cooked. I’ve found macadamia nuts to be a perfectly fine replacement, and I can snack on them as I cook.
Kaffir Lime Leaves - Leave them out if you have to, but if they are at all available, include them. Their perfumey, spicy, citrusy flavor completely changes and rounds out the flavor of the spice paste.
Trassi, aka petis, belacang, or dried fermented shrimp paste. This ingredient is also used in Malaysian and Singaporean cooking, but can still sometimes difficult to find in a well-stocked Asian grocery store. It is an essential ingredient in practically every Indonesian dish in existence, responsible for the distinctive pungency and funk that make the food so addictive, and when I’m cooking at home, I almost always leave it out.
This is because cooking trassi will make your house smell. A lot. For a long time. Traditional Balinese kitchens are, if not actually outside, as much outside as in, and largely open to the air. The sealed nature of the average Western kitchen makes it a trap for all that strong-smelling vaporized oil, and you and your hair and your clothes and your house will smell funky far beyond dinner. Solutions: 1. Install a professional-level hood and fan, 2. Cook your Balinese food on a grill burner or hot plate outside, or 3. Replace the trassi, in a pinch, with an equivalent amount of anchovies or anchovy paste and a splash of fish sauce. While rather less pungent, the fishy hit will fill the umami gap.
INGREDIENTS
makes about 2 cups or 450 grams, enough for 2-3 recipes that serve 2-3.
PASTE SPICES
• 200 g shallots
• 60 g garlic
• 50 g peppers (3 small 1.5 larger)
• 60 g turmeric
• 40 g galangal
• 40 g ginger
• 35 g macadamia nuts
• 14 g lemongrass (white part only)
• 1 tbsp trassi or anchovy/anchovy paste and splash of fish sauce
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 5 kaffir lime leaves (optional)
• 30 g kencur root (optional)
• 75-90 ml coconut oil
READ WHILE YOU FRY
A couple of articles on the Indonesian mortar and pestle, one by Indonesian food expert Pat Tanumiardja, and this one by food writer Robyn Eckhardt.
DIRECTIONS
Grind dry spices in a spice grinder or a mortar and pestle.
Roughly chop the paste spices in a food processor and then mash to a rough paste in a batu or mortar and pestle. OR chop in a food processor and then give it a final smush in the mortar and pestle. OR just chop in the food processor. The process is up to you, but I find the food processor to mortar and pestle routine to be the most efficient and flavorful, short of mashing everything in the batu by hand, which you may not have the time or forearm strength to do. Also my mortar and pestle is too small. I should have gone big.
Combine the paste spice with the coconut oil. Pour into a flattish saucepan with a lid.
Cook on medium-high until the oil starts to bubble, then add the dry spices and lime leaves. Turn the heat down.
Cover and cook on low for about an hour, stirring every 10 minutes or so to keep the paste it from sticking to the bottom and scorching, as this stuff so loves to do.
Allow to cool, and then place in a jar and keep in the fridge for about 2 weeks, or freeze in roughly 150 gram cups.
