By Sophia McKinsey ( Journalist , Hockey player , food lover) Guest Post
When I moved to Jakarta three months ago, I expected the usual dazzle of a foreign capital—traffic, humidity, smiles, a new skyline. What I didn’t expect was the emotional pull of a plate of rice.
It happened on a Wednesday afternoon at a street-side warung near Menteng. The rain had stopped. The pavement steamed. I ducked inside, drawn less by hunger and more by the perfume in the air—something like coconut, lemongrass, and fried shallots tangled in an invisible embrace. That was the moment I met Nasi Uduk.
A mound of rice sat at the center, white and unassuming at first glance. But as I spooned it in, the flavor unfolded—rich, creamy, comforting yet unfamiliar. Surrounding it were fried tofu, spicy sambal, a boiled egg sliced in two, crisp anchovies, and golden slivers of tempeh. It was more than a meal. It felt like a quiet invitation into something sacred.
I asked my colleague, Ayu, a native Jakartan, about it the next day. She smiled. “That’s our comfort food,” she said. “We grow up with it. Weddings, breakfast, ceremonies—Nasi Uduk is always there.”
Curious, I asked her to show me how to make it. What follows is not just a recipe, but the result of an afternoon in Ayu’s kitchen, filled with laughter, spilled coconut milk, and the scent of home.
What Is Nasi Uduk?
Literally translated as “mixed rice,” Nasi Uduk is a traditional Indonesian dish made with rice cooked in coconut milk and aromatic spices. Unlike plain steamed rice, this version is lush and flavorful, often paired with an assortment of side dishes ranging from eggs to fried chicken and sambal.
Originating from Betawi culture (native to Jakarta), it carries influences from Malay and even Indian cuisine, reflecting the city’s centuries-old multicultural soul.
The Ingredients (Serves 4)
For the Rice:
- 2 cups white rice (jasmine or long grain)
- 1 can (400 ml) coconut milk
- 2 cups water
- 2 lemongrass stalks, bruised
- 3 kaffir lime leaves
- 2 Indonesian bay leaves (or regular if unavailable)
- 1 thumb-sized piece of galangal, sliced
- 1 tsp salt
Optional Side Dishes (Traditional Pairings):
- Fried tempeh or tofu
- Hard-boiled eggs (often fried or cooked in sambal)
- Crispy shallots
- Fried anchovies and peanuts
- Sliced cucumbers
- Sambal (spicy chili paste)
How to Make Nasi Uduk: Step-by-Step
1. Rinse the Rice
Rinse the rice 2–3 times until the water runs clear. This helps remove excess starch and ensures fluffier rice.
2. Combine the Base
In a pot, combine the rinsed rice, coconut milk, water, salt, lemongrass, lime leaves, bay leaves, and galangal. Stir gently.
3. Cook the Rice
Bring everything to a gentle boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally to prevent the coconut milk from separating. Once the liquid is mostly absorbed and you see little steam holes forming in the rice, reduce the heat to low.
Cover the pot and let it steam for another 10–15 minutes. Turn off the heat and let the rice sit for 5 more minutes to finish cooking through steam.
Alternative: You can also prepare the rice in a rice cooker—just combine everything and press “cook.”
4. Prepare the Sides
While the rice cooks, fry tofu or tempeh in a pan until golden. Boil eggs and fry them slightly for that classic Indonesian touch. If you’re feeling bold, mash chilies, garlic, and tomatoes into a sambal with salt and a squeeze of lime.
5. Assemble and Serve
Scoop a mound of Nasi Uduk onto a plate. Surround it with the fried sides, sprinkle with crispy shallots, and serve with sambal and sliced cucumber.
My Reflections as a Foreigner
As an American used to plain rice being a background actor, this dish flipped my expectations. The rice in Nasi Uduk is the star—rich without being heavy, fragrant without being cloying. It’s not flashy. It’s not spicy (though the sambal certainly is). It’s a quiet comfort food, but with layers of heritage built into every grain.
Ayu told me her grandmother used to wake up at dawn to prepare Nasi Uduk for family gatherings. “She said the rice has to be calm and slow,” she laughed, as we stirred the pot and waited. And that’s the magic of it—Nasi Uduk asks you to slow down. It’s not street food for rushing. It’s soul food, Jakarta-style.
Closing Thoughts
As I write this from my small rented apartment in South Jakarta, the scent of lemongrass still lingers from my second attempt at making Nasi Uduk. It’s not perfect yet. But then again, neither is living abroad. You stumble, you burn things, you miss home. But sometimes, you find a dish that anchors you in your new city. For me, that anchor came wrapped in coconut milk and tradition—one spoonful at a time