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The Ketupat Connection


Picturesque, pretty, and perky, the ketupat rice cake (and its handwoven basket shell) have widespread historical roots throughout Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, and Brunei: ketupat is the signature, traditional food item eaten (and fabricated at home) during the Muslim festival of Hari Raya Idulfitri.   Busy street satay vendors throughout Southeast Asia weave and sell these special, boiled regional rice packets for both holiday use and everyday consumption.  Banana leaf ketupat (lomtong)--wrapped in an elongated, loaf-shaped bundle—is a common, quotidian food item throughout the Indonesian archipelago (a coconut leaf version is reserved for special ceremonial usages on Java).  Ketupat daun palas from northern Malaysia combines glutinous rice with rich coconut milk, water, and salt moulded into a triangular casing woven out of long fan palm (palas) leaves (Licuala species).  Palas leaves are purchased from the marketplace, wiped clean from their hairy husks, trimmed at the tips, folded out flat, and then rolled up lengthwise to increase flexibility.  A skilful set of twists, turns, and targeted creases produces the beautifully designed, rice-ready ketupat shells: their tail ends are knotted to prevent both raw and cooked contents from spilling out.  When done, the cooked ketupat leaves turn a telltale yellowish brown.  (Fragrant pandanus fronds are a secondary, optional weaving material.)  Names, shapes, sizes, configurations and sexes vary: different basket-folding techniques produce either a ketupat betina (“female” ketupat) or a ketupat jantan (“male” ketupat). 
The Balinese incarnation of the ketupat benefits from legendary Balinese artisanry, local talent for food practicality and invention, peasant farmer culinary skills, tropical topographical raw materials, and an island-wide reverence for rice.  In Bali (and Singapore), ketupat baskets (urung) are normally constructed out of young, pale-green coconut palm leaves: the central spine is removed first with a paring knife to split the leaves into two ribbon-like halves.  The long, thin, trailing coconut leaves are then braided together in an intricate, yet simple tango of vertical and horizontal interlocking loops.  These charming, rustic rice accomplices are an engrained part of Balinese food culture: ceremonial offerings command exotic, highly crafted constructions, while standard, everyday ketupat nasi, also known as ketupat biasa (common or ordinary) or ketupat bekel (victual provisions) are confined in small, flat, unprepossessing, three-inch square pockets (or in onion-shaped domes called ketupat bawang).  Balinese ketupat are always made with plain white rice and form a complete meal, while their sociable, banana boat cousins in Java are eaten with beef or chicken rendang, satés, chicken curry, gado gado with peanut sauce, serunding (fried, grated coconut pulp mixed with sugar—or spices and beans), and sayur lodeh (a Central Javanese coconut milk and vegetable stew).
Ketupat self-confidence comes with experience (enthusiastic expatriates need a friendly Balinese teacher or a good fold-out diagram)—a skilled practitioner (or even a small Balinese child) can complete a basic, coconut leaf ketupat container in under a minute.  Dexterous, traditional Balinese cooks pry open a space between the loosely woven leaves (or use an opening in the top end) to inject raw rice grains: the little basket is then filled from halfway to three-quarters full and placed in boiling water for anywhere from thirty minutes to three hours (multiples are cooked simultaneously in a large pot).  There is much method to this seeming culinary madness: as it cooks, the rice expands to fill the container and becomes a solid, compact square block which can be sliced for serving.  These inescapably charming Balinese rice wrappings are hung aloft in the kitchen: because of the prolonged hours of boiling, ketupat keep well and can be used to house and store rice for two or more days without refrigeration.  Ketupat is popular because leaf-cooked rice is softer in texture than regular steamed or boiled rice.  Ketupat can also be deliberately overcooked (for up to eight hours), rendering it therapeutically soft and easy for elderly people to digest (called ketipat nyaling, meaning “slippery”).  Chewy ketupat packages are eminently portable: farmers cart ketupat cargo out to the rice paddies for nourishment, children transport them to school, and food sellers who cannot cook fresh rice sequester resuscitative ketupat in their emergency inventory.  Common sense and experience dictates that—even in spiritually pristine Bali—rice deteriorates rapidly after less than a day out in the open.  Nevertheless, the optimistic, smiling, cheerful Balinese swear to the staying power and protective properties of these cherished, compound-born, ketupat “rice barongs.”  Good triumphs over evil in Balinese rice versus rot: everything is possible on the island of the gods!
These supremely edible, lontar-basket-like ornaments enter the Balinese religious lexicon as ceremonial culinary icons.  Renowned Pura Taman Pule in Mas (repository of the wandering Hindu sage Nirartha’s personal relics), celebrates the end of the ten-day Galungan-Kuningan holiday period with an elaborate, five-day extravaganza of three-hour masked dance performances, romantic Ramayana dramas, and resounding gamelan orchestras to please and entertain gods, ancestors, and pilgrims.  Sacred activities commandeer crowded village streets: men file outside escorting holy images of the gods (pratima) in golden, glittering, shoulder-born jampana (small, house-like structures) to visit nearby temples to pray.  An army of fried-fritter-wielding Javanese food stalls sets up in the barren, dusty playing field fronting the temple: the most popular dish among festival worshippers is eye-pleasing, homespun ketupat.  Warung merchants hang the treasures overhead as archetypal traditional artefacts: they take one down, cut it diagonally into small pieces (casing still intact) with a (somewhat hygienically suspect) pair of scissors, excavate the ketupat out of its petite plaited pouch, and serve up the sticky rice chunks with scorching doses of chillies and brown sauce.
These specially compressed rice treats are available at the handsomely decorated, appropriately named Ketupat Restaurant at Jalan Legian 109, Kuta (tel. 754209), serving elegant, genuine, Indonesian high cuisine in a recessed, Balinese-style inner courtyard (boasting thatch-roofed dinner pavilions and transplanted rice barns).  A gorgeous, round, ring of fire rijsttafel platter induces a state of cultural and culinary astonishment: beef rendang, tempe, tofu with peanuts, corn fritters, tuna puff pastry, chicken legs, cooked vegetable exotica, and hard-boiled eggs in spicy red sambal thrill the senses, while naked ketupat blocks (coaxed out of their miniature coconut pouches) preen in the center.  Ketupat history lessons abound and staff will proudly bring a hanging, processed bundle of joy over to your table for a personal, hands-on inspection!
 
© Dr. Vivienne Kruger 2006
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