The Indonesian rice table is a phenomenon with a loaded history. It was ‘invented’ by the Dutch colonials in Indonesia who, in order to impress their guests, inspired by the traditional local harvest festival banquets, ordered as many dishes as possible at the same time. For the Indo-Dutch who emigrated en masse to the Netherlands after the Second World War, it was the culinary manifestation of the tempo doeoe, the wistful memory of a ‘good old days’ in the Dutch East Indies, roughly from the mid-nineteenth century until the First World War.
By the 1970s, Indonesian food was fully established: even creamy-white Dutch people who could not identify Indonesia on the map regularly put a satay with peanut sauce and nasi or bami on the table – or something that pretended to be it. In November 2022, the rice table was officially added to the National Inventory of Intangible Heritage. This was intended as recognition of Indian culture, but was described by some as cultural appropriation.
In any case, it is a good reason to travel to restaurant Spandershoeve in Hilversum-Noord – in its own words the oldest Indonesian family restaurant in the Netherlands, it has existed since 1972. It is still run by Anita Boerenkamp, now 91, who is still lives above the restaurant, and her grandson Timo. They are assisted in the kitchen by Indonesian ‘specialty chefs’.
Spandershoeve is a kind of postcard from a more recent ‘tempo doeoe’, the good old days when my grandparents were still alive: I haven’t seen chafing dishes with tea lights on the table since. The map is in a plastic folder, the cola is poured into a standard cafeteria wine glass from the wholesaler and the rujak is made with canned fruit. The audience mainly stems from the same period. Lots of wood carvings and woven wicker paneling along the wall.
Only thing that doesn’t remind you of the good old days is the a la carte prices. But few people care about that in this Hilversummer residential area: Bentleys and BMWs are parked at the door; inside, the gentlemen wear light blue shirts under gray spencers and small round glasses. The non-villa resident runs completely empty on the separate dishes. But the rice table is well affordable at 39.50 euros per person.
Butter soft stewed dry
To tackle the elephant right away: really everything that comes on the table (and that’s quite a bit) is sweet. That may be your taste or not – that’s how grandpa and grandma liked it anyway. It is important to realize that Indian food is not Indonesian food. Dendeng belado (à la carte) is originally a Sumatran dish, which is screaming hot from the peppers. The Indian variant is mild and sweet (more like a dendeng Belanda). This makes it not a bad dish: the meat is braised as buttery soft, the layered sweetness of the onion and palm sugar makes it somewhat reminiscent of American barbecue. In addition to sweet, it is also good salt, a little sour from the tamarind with a smoldering pit, and achieves a bliss pointso you can’t stop eating.
Apart from the sweetness, Spandershoeve cooks well technically. The prawns in the laksa (à la carte) – a velvety coconut soup that wouldn’t look out of place in a French restaurant – are crispy fresh. All the meat is nicely tender – from the satay kambing (goat satay with sweet soy sauce) to the rendang. And the egg in the sambal goreng (which you can gently rub into your eyes) is cooked to perfection – unlike those rubber balls you normally get at the takeaway rames. And don’t forget: the white rice. In good white rice, an echo can be tasted far away from the floral perfumes that emerge very clearly in sake, for example. And this one is cooked perfectly fluffy, not too wet, just sticky.
The pisang goreng is a tasty ripe banana in a light beignet dough. The homemade spekkoek (à la carte) is fat, juicy and clove-like.
Less successful are the rather greasy fried pangsit and, except for the pointed cabbage, all vegetables in the sajoer lodeh are snot-cooked (entirely in line with the spirit of the times, that is). The martabak – a popular Indonesian street food snack, a folded crepe with a savory or sweet filling – with chicken and curry is more of a Surinamese patty.
Mildly spiced is one thing, but some dishes are very bland. Such as the omelette with nondescript soft meat filling and the ajam roedjak, chicken thigh in a smooth sauce, which resembles a sambal goreng slathered with coconut milk.
On the other hand, there is a stunner of a babi soy sauce, in a syrupy black sauce, dripping with star anise. A nasi goreng that is stiff with the fermented shrimp paste (actually more ‘trassi goreng’). A wonderful mildly spicy, but nicely balanced wet rendang. Juicy pieces of tofu in the sajoer beans (with beautiful al dente string beans). A tempting, slightly spiced perkedel – a deep-fried ball of potato and minced meat. A decent glass of chardonnay or rioja, which holds up well next to sweetness and various spices. And the most delicious homemade ginger and sweet chilli sauce I’ve tasted to date – slightly sour, not too viscous, lively in taste. And above all: not too sweet.
Spandershoeve is a time capsule, just like the rice table itself. It’s worth stepping into that before we really only know it from pictures.