Bawang Goreng (Crisp Fried Shallots)

The smallest bowl on the rijsttafel often carries the largest memory. Bawang goreng: those crisp fried shallots scattered over nasi, soto, sajoer, and anything else that needs a little golden crackle under the teeth. In the Netherlands, they sit quietly beside sambal and serundeng, part of the Indo-Dutch table that came through colonial history, migration, longing, and the stubborn household genius of people who kept cooking their way home.

The name already tells you enough, if you listen carefully. In Indonesian, bawang is onion or shallot, and goreng means fried. Simple. But let me tell you a secret: simple is where cooks get exposed. Slice too thick and you make sweet little onion chips. Fry too hot and you get bitterness wearing a pretty colour. Drain badly and the whole jar sulks into greasiness.

So we keep this honest. Hou het altijd simpel, always keep it simple. Use firm shallots, slice them evenly, begin in oil that is not too fierce, and pull them when they are a shade paler than you want, because they darken as they rest. History and cookery, they cannot be separated, but neither asks you for theatre here. A knife, a pan, patience, and a clean jar. That is the whole lesson.