A history of colonialism, migration, and trade has made Southeast Asia a meeting point for various cultures. Against global flows, culture is exchanged, negotiated and translated. This piece is the first of FOODWAYS, a series highlighting the region’s plates; reflecting on its past and what this means for present-day traditions.
Eating with a spoon is second nature to us Indonesians—the first being the use of our right hand1. I never gave this much thought until I found myself struggling to eat rice with a fork at a dinner party in London. Centuries of interaction with various cultures—thanks in part to the Asian spice trade—have encouraged Indonesians to retain traditions while accommodating foreign influences. Various practices introduced by way of colonialism have been localised and embedded into the nation’s everyday, whether or not we realise it. Likewise, aspects of Nusantara2 food culture have seeped into that of its colonisers, notably the rijsttafel.
Harvests of Colonialism
In the 17th century, the Dutch East India Company (VOC) established itself in Batavia (now Jakarta) and set up plantations in an effort to monopolise the spice trade. When VOC fell into bankruptcy in 1796, its geographic assets were nationalised as the Dutch East Indies’ (now Indonesia). The Netherlands proceeded to expand its territory across the archipelago until Indonesia’s eventual independence in 1945. As with most colonial narratives, the East Indies were seen as primitive, and food systems were heavily subject to development efforts.
Faced with financial difficulties after the Javanese war3, Dutch authorities implemented cultuurstelsel (cultivation system) which was locally known as tanam paksa (forced planting). During this time, ingredients were harvested at the great expense of civilian rights—a stark contrast to the exciting period in European food culture, as ingredients from the East made their way to the West. Between 1830–1870, villages had to allocate a portion of land for planting popular export commodities such as sugarcane, coffee and tea. While this was tax-exempt, the areas where locals lived or grew their crops were heavily taxed. Cultuurstelsel forced thousands into famine and exploitative labour conditions, but it laid the groundwork for Indonesia’s agricultural system.
Rice cultivation in Java is rooted in spirituality, with the prosperity of crops intimately linked to communal rituals like slametan. During slametan, the entire village community comes together to prepare and eat various dishes made with ingredients from the harvest. The ritual adopts different names across the island but is performed to express gratitude and prevent unfavourable harvests. For the Dutch, it was an opportunity to sample diverse culinary offerings of the archipelago; from indigenous delicacies to dishes influenced by minority groups such as Chinese migrants. Efforts to elevate local life soon made their way into the dining space.
The Rice Table
Rijsttafel (rice table) is a colonial take on feasting traditions that emerged from these plantations which grew popular among Europeans in the latter half of the 19th century. According to food historian Fadly Rahman, the practice began when Dutch officers stationed in Indonesia wedded local women, resulting in a mixed lifestyle and generation known as Indo. Rijsttafel featured Nusantara classics like beef rendang, ayam goreng (fried chicken), and gado-gado (boiled vegetables with peanut sauce). It was common to have anywhere between a dozen up to 60 varieties of menu served in the rijsttafel. All these were prepared by personal cooks and served by a legion of jongos (male servants), usually local plantation workers who were purchased at a low cost and then trained.
Each dish was plated separately and served family-style, but unlike slametan, the etiquette is undeniably European. Diners sat at a clothed table where plates and silverware lay. In lieu of a knife, a spoon was used to scoop up rice in the right hand, accompanied by a fork in the left. Since many Indonesian dishes involve slow cooking, tender meats can be cut with a spoon and are suitable to eat throughout the day, even after hours on the table. The table was also adorned with essential condiments; pickles, kerupuk (crackers) and various sambals. The more affluent the host, the more food served.
Indigenous elites gradually adopted these table manners to acquaint themselves with Western customs. By the 1920s, the exotic rijsttafel became a hallmark of mooi indie4 tourism in establishments frequented by Europeans, like the Savoy Homann Hotel in Bandung. It was exported to the Netherlands soon after, where it remains. In 2015, rijsttafel was listed as a Dutch national heritage. A stroll through Amsterdam and you are sure to find restaurants serving rijsttafel, though most establishments today are run by the Chinese diaspora. This may explain the questionable inclusion of babi ketjap (braised soy sauce pork) in the menus—rarely found in Indonesia due to its predominantly Muslim population.
Many Indische5 families had a book filled with renditions of their favourite East Indies recipes. For second generations like Monique Kampschuur, the family cookbook is an heirloom and a testament to her identity. After the Indonesian independence, her father was among many forced to return to the Netherlands for the first time. He rebuilt his life in The Hague where most repatriates settled, forming a sizable Indische and Indonesian community. Today his experiences live on through Kampschuur’s dining club Tante Pop, where she serves up Indische-style Indonesian dishes from her father’s cookbook.
The Flamboyant Table
Nowadays it is extremely rare to find rijsttafel in Indonesia. Since the dishes are staples at home and local eateries, rijsttafel is considered an overpriced novelty reserved for foreigners. According to Elia Nurvista, artist and founder of Bakudapan, Indonesia’s first president, Soekarno, wholly rejected its opulence in the post-independence era. ‘The distinguishing element of rijsttafel is the presentation. The food itself is pretty mundane’, she highlighted. Even so, the Indonesian Embassy in the UK still hosts rijsttafel banquets for its guests of honour as a way to showcase the nation’s diverse cuisine in a formal setting.
In 2014, Nurvista hosted her own banquet with Dutch curator Nat Muller at the Delfina Foundation in London. Rijsttafel: The Flamboyant Table presents a feast involving Indonesian diaspora students who posed as jongos. The catch? 30 different dishes and mounds of rice were piled straight onto a long table. Guests including Kartika Soekarno, daughter of President Soekarno, proceeded to dine without cutlery and tableware. Nurvista’s dinner juxtaposed feelings of indulgence with shame, provoking discussions on post-colonial narratives and power dynamics.
While the tradition has evolved over time and is now primarily found outside of Indonesia, rijsttafel continues to serve as a reminder of the intricate relationships between food, identity, and the legacies of colonialism. The recent preservation and commercialisation of rijsttafel in the Netherlands also raises questions of authenticity. What initially represented opulence and oppression has transformed into a shared cultural identity, inviting us to reconsider the significance of a meal beyond its culinary delights.
Harvests of Colonialism
In the 17th century, the Dutch East India Company (VOC) established itself in Batavia (now Jakarta) and set up plantations in an effort to monopolise the spice trade. When VOC fell into bankruptcy in 1796, its geographic assets were nationalised as the Dutch East Indies’ (now Indonesia). The Netherlands proceeded to expand its territory across the archipelago until Indonesia’s eventual independence in 1945. As with most colonial narratives, the East Indies were seen as primitive, and food systems were heavily subject to development efforts.
Faced with financial difficulties after the Javanese war3, Dutch authorities implemented cultuurstelsel (cultivation system) which was locally known as tanam paksa (forced planting). During this time, ingredients were harvested at the great expense of civilian rights—a stark contrast to the exciting period in European food culture, as ingredients from the East made their way to the West. Between 1830–1870, villages had to allocate a portion of land for planting popular export commodities such as sugarcane, coffee and tea. While this was tax-exempt, the areas where locals lived or grew their crops were heavily taxed. Cultuurstelsel forced thousands into famine and exploitative labour conditions, but it laid the groundwork for Indonesia’s agricultural system.
Rice cultivation in Java is rooted in spirituality, with the prosperity of crops intimately linked to communal rituals like slametan. During slametan, the entire village community comes together to prepare and eat various dishes made with ingredients from the harvest. The ritual adopts different names across the island but is performed to express gratitude and prevent unfavourable harvests. For the Dutch, it was an opportunity to sample diverse culinary offerings of the archipelago; from indigenous delicacies to dishes influenced by minority groups such as Chinese migrants. Efforts to elevate local life soon made their way into the dining space.
The Rice Table
Rijsttafel (rice table) is a colonial take on feasting traditions that emerged from these plantations which grew popular among Europeans in the latter half of the 19th century. According to food historian Fadly Rahman, the practice began when Dutch officers stationed in Indonesia wedded local women, resulting in a mixed lifestyle and generation known as Indo. Rijsttafel featured Nusantara classics like beef rendang, ayam goreng (fried chicken), and gado-gado (boiled vegetables with peanut sauce). It was common to have anywhere between a dozen up to 60 varieties of menu served in the rijsttafel. All these were prepared by personal cooks and served by a legion of jongos (male servants), usually local plantation workers who were purchased at a low cost and then trained.
Each dish was plated separately and served family-style, but unlike slametan, the etiquette is undeniably European. Diners sat at a clothed table where plates and silverware lay. In lieu of a knife, a spoon was used to scoop up rice in the right hand, accompanied by a fork in the left. Since many Indonesian dishes involve slow cooking, tender meats can be cut with a spoon and are suitable to eat throughout the day, even after hours on the table. The table was also adorned with essential condiments; pickles, kerupuk (crackers) and various sambals. The more affluent the host, the more food served.
Indigenous elites gradually adopted these table manners to acquaint themselves with Western customs. By the 1920s, the exotic rijsttafel became a hallmark of mooi indie4 tourism in establishments frequented by Europeans, like the Savoy Homann Hotel in Bandung. It was exported to the Netherlands soon after, where it remains. In 2015, rijsttafel was listed as a Dutch national heritage. A stroll through Amsterdam and you are sure to find restaurants serving rijsttafel, though most establishments today are run by the Chinese diaspora. This may explain the questionable inclusion of babi ketjap (braised soy sauce pork) in the menus—rarely found in Indonesia due to its predominantly Muslim population.
Many Indische5 families had a book filled with renditions of their favourite East Indies recipes. For second generations like Monique Kampschuur, the family cookbook is an heirloom and a testament to her identity. After the Indonesian independence, her father was among many forced to return to the Netherlands for the first time. He rebuilt his life in The Hague where most repatriates settled, forming a sizable Indische and Indonesian community. Today his experiences live on through Kampschuur’s dining club Tante Pop, where she serves up Indische-style Indonesian dishes from her father’s cookbook.
The Flamboyant Table
Nowadays it is extremely rare to find rijsttafel in Indonesia. Since the dishes are staples at home and local eateries, rijsttafel is considered an overpriced novelty reserved for foreigners. According to Elia Nurvista, artist and founder of Bakudapan, Indonesia’s first president, Soekarno, wholly rejected its opulence in the post-independence era. ‘The distinguishing element of rijsttafel is the presentation. The food itself is pretty mundane’, she highlighted. Even so, the Indonesian Embassy in the UK still hosts rijsttafel banquets for its guests of honour as a way to showcase the nation’s diverse cuisine in a formal setting.
In 2014, Nurvista hosted her own banquet with Dutch curator Nat Muller at the Delfina Foundation in London. Rijsttafel: The Flamboyant Table presents a feast involving Indonesian diaspora students who posed as jongos. The catch? 30 different dishes and mounds of rice were piled straight onto a long table. Guests including Kartika Soekarno, daughter of President Soekarno, proceeded to dine without cutlery and tableware. Nurvista’s dinner juxtaposed feelings of indulgence with shame, provoking discussions on post-colonial narratives and power dynamics.
While the tradition has evolved over time and is now primarily found outside of Indonesia, rijsttafel continues to serve as a reminder of the intricate relationships between food, identity, and the legacies of colonialism. The recent preservation and commercialisation of rijsttafel in the Netherlands also raises questions of authenticity. What initially represented opulence and oppression has transformed into a shared cultural identity, inviting us to reconsider the significance of a meal beyond its culinary delights.
FOOTNOTES
1. Indonesian culture, largely influenced by Muslim and Hindu beliefs, considers the left hand to be used for personal hygiene. Therefore, food should be eaten with the ‘clean’ right hand.
2. The concept of Nusantara alludes to the collective cultural identity of the Indonesian archipelago.
3. The Java War led by Prince Diponegoro occurred between 1825–1830 in Central Java. Motivated by deepening socio-economic concerns, the war was considered one of the turning points in Javanese political history. It resulted in the defeat and death of more than 200,000 Javanese.
4. The term ‘beautiful Indies’ emerged in the 19th century and is used to refer to a naturalistic, romanticised portrayal of rural Indonesia that was popular with the European community then. Sufferings like tanam paksa were omitted and rural life was abundant and harmonious–a representation heavily criticised by Indonesian artists like S. Sudjojono.
5. The term ‘indische’ usually refers to Dutch or Indo-Europeans who had established long-term residency in the East Indies.
1. Indonesian culture, largely influenced by Muslim and Hindu beliefs, considers the left hand to be used for personal hygiene. Therefore, food should be eaten with the ‘clean’ right hand.
2. The concept of Nusantara alludes to the collective cultural identity of the Indonesian archipelago.
3. The Java War led by Prince Diponegoro occurred between 1825–1830 in Central Java. Motivated by deepening socio-economic concerns, the war was considered one of the turning points in Javanese political history. It resulted in the defeat and death of more than 200,000 Javanese.
4. The term ‘beautiful Indies’ emerged in the 19th century and is used to refer to a naturalistic, romanticised portrayal of rural Indonesia that was popular with the European community then. Sufferings like tanam paksa were omitted and rural life was abundant and harmonious–a representation heavily criticised by Indonesian artists like S. Sudjojono.
5. The term ‘indische’ usually refers to Dutch or Indo-Europeans who had established long-term residency in the East Indies.