The 'Nasi Gandul' Nostalgia

This is Pak Sardi.

For all I know, this man is almost central in my overall memory of my Dad's little hometown (am not even sure I can call it a town, so let's call it village) little village of Trangkil, Pati, Central Java. Because he whips up a plate of killer Nasi Gandul like no other.

I remember loving Nasi Gandul, even as young as I was seven years old. My dad never grow tired of telling everyone the same story of me, wanting to only eat the Nasi Gandul place where "we use the banana leaf spoon" (which is basically little folded cuts of banana leaf, used in lieu of a regular spoon).

After almost fifteen years, two years ago was the first time I visited Pati, and I am pleasantly shocked his little shop still looked exactly the same as I remembered. Crammed with hungry (but patient) customers, smelling of amazing smoky smell of wood fire mixed with Gandul stew still brewing in huge age-old cooking cauldron.


Nasi Gandul is a local speciality of Pati, meaning you can hardly find it elsewhere outside the municipality with around 1 millon people. To my experience too, people that know about the dish is almost certainly someone from the area. If you're lucky, you could probably find one or two stalls in Jakarta or other cities in Central Java, but it's never quite the same as the real deal in Pati, predictably.

The word gandul is a Javanese word that means to carry, referring to how the seller used to carry the fragrant stew around. In fact, until now Mr. Sardi's still puts his cauldron in the bakul pikul or carrying basket.

A portion of Nasi Gandul consists of  a moderately small serving of warm white rice poured with  Gandul broth, and more heavy on the selection of slow-cooked cow parts that have been cooked in the broth--can be the meat, tripe, lung-- (with the exception of the the cutlets of cow brain, that are deep fried with egg) and cut with scissors  after you make your pick, and lastly, drizzled with good amount of kecap manis and homemade chili mixture to spice things up.

Mr. Sardi serving the constant flow of customers, see the cuts of cow parts in front of him. 

Mr. Sardi's assistant cutting some meat with scissors

So many aspects here play the part to be the perfect Nasi Gandul. Other than obviously the unprecedented ambiance of the place, the Gandul broth needs to be slow-cooked over charcoal fire. This renders earthy and nice deep flavour that's just hard to mimic any other way. If you were familiar with Indonesian food, I'd say Gandul Broth is closest to Gulai that can be found in many areas of Indonesia; meat stew with usually thinner consistency of broth, enjoyed over white rice.

Then you have the cow parts, that I know can be too extreme for the squeamish (or the general western world), but is just really really good in Mr. Sardi's shop, even for the most squeamish Indonesian. And because I'm a rather purist Gandul aficionado, you must eat it on banana leaves. It just simply doesn't taste the same. So many times my Pati-native aunts have made good Gandul broth and its condiments at home, but it's just not the same without the banana leaf.

Last but not least, le pièce de résistance, the jewel in the crown, the one that makes all the difference, the locally brewed Kecap (Manis) Lele.

This one sells for Rp. 500 in a local warung (small shop)

(Too bad I do not have a picture of the bottle, this picture of the cute 50ml packet should do it for now)

For the longest time my mom stocks up this Kecap Manis in our household, and when one day the Kecap Lele stopped coming, my world turned upside down. I hadn't known how superior this Kecap is compared to other brands in Indonesia, at least compared to the ones distributed in Jakarta shops, and to my preference. How thick and sweet this Kecap Manis.

The Kecap Manis brands in Pati are superior for the sole fact that the area was long the central producer of Java's sugarcane industry. when you go pass the main road, you can see some sugar cane plantations, and old train tracks that transport the produce in the Dutch colonial time.

The closest I can compare Kecap Lele would probably be to Kecap Bango which has gone big corporation and can be found in nearly all stores in Indonesia, big or small. As it seems, the Kecap Manis just seals the deal to Nasi Gandul as a true central java dish which are stereotypically on the sweet side (even when we're not talking desserts!).

For me, Nasi Gandul will always induce a melancholic pang for me, as it represents a long journey to my Dad's hometown, with assorted social, emotional, and, obviously, family obligations and complications. It is, nevertheless, the less known culinary heritage of central java that revolves heavily around Yogyakarta, Solo and Semarang, all for good reasons. But I do hope and wish anyone passing the village, (probably on a trans-Java road trip) can have a taste of Pak Sardi's village-famous Nasi Gandul!