That's in Malay and I figure it would be the same in Bahasa Indonesia. It was Jo's birthday last Friday and we had unwittingly (at least to me) planned a lovely dinner at Cumi Bali. Some of the group had been to this quaint little restaurant at Duxton Hill before and remember the volcanic chilli sambal, fragrant spices, thick gravies and succulent meats. So this time, it was a matter of repeating the same formula. We had the- kailan
- brinjals
- bendi (ladies fingers/okra)
- sayur lodeh- assam fish
- beef rendang
- chicken madura (satay)
- perkedel (begedel)
- ikan bakar (a fish butterflied, smothered with otah and baked)
- fried chicken
- tahu tempe
- grilled cumi smothered in peanut sauce (squid)
and chendol
All this lime juice and two types of chilli - killer and gentle stab at tongue-numbing.
Jo brought friends for us to reacquaint with and the rest of us arrived unglamorously late. We gathered to celebrates Jo's XX birthday and eat like starved wolves. It was a glorious event.
Gorge, gorge. Then we sprung the blingest of surprises, a black and gold (chic to the hilt) Adidas watch. The brilliant eyes of Carolina and Mun Hoe sought out this perfect timely creation. And boy, was the birthday girl happy. Happy birthday Jo!Woof and burp. We went on to Artery to prolong the mayhem, cordially and in civilised fashion over not-so-good white wine and not-so-clear wait staff. Anyhoo, I hung out till one-ish with Fatman Amos, Din, Jo and another bloke who teaches at RP and collects nice watches. They told the best stories man - leaping off into mid air from end of a log, diving half drunk, drinking rusty beer, puking at work among other laugh-out-loud tales of mayhem, insanity and opportunity. And I caught a ride home. Sweet.
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