Hot stuff: M. Dullah'€™s gudeg manggar at Tembi cultural house in Yogyakarta. (JP/Arif Suryobuwono)

I fell in love with

Back then, almost every morning, my father and I would go down to a particular stall at Kanjengan Market in Semarang, Central Java for a breakfast of Yu Yem'€™s gudeg (jackfruit stewed in coconut milk).

From afar, murmurs of leisurely conversations would fall on the ear. As we came closer, their full notes prolonged, echoing near and far, a mouthwatering smell wafted out, and a mixed crowd of young and old, poor and rich came into sight.

Sitting packed, cheek by jowl, they seemed to mingle naturally, oblivious to their social class. A becak (pedicab) driver, a Chinese businessman coming with his Mercedes-Benz, a vendor, a civil servant and other people from all walks of life were there, captivated and united by memorable, irresistible flavors created by a chatterbox at the center of it all '€” Saliyem, affectionately known as Yu (Javanese for sister) Yem, the seller as well as the maker of the heavenly gudeg.

She was busily putting rice, young reddish brown-colored jackfruit, free-range opor ayam (chicken soaked in coconut milk), marinated hard-boiled duck eggs, red chilli spiced rambak (cow hide), cowpea stew, slices of crisp, deep-fried cow lungs and areh (thick coconut milk) in plates made from banana leaves.

My father and I sat on a wooden bench, quietly and appreciatively savoring the delightful, savory flavors of the best gudeg we had ever had. The taste was unlike any other gudeg I have ever known: complex, rich, savory and well-balanced, with smoky flavors from the firewood.

That scene vividly came to mind when I last met Yu Yem in the early 1990s, long after I left the city to study and work in Jakarta.

She had relocated to a stall in front of the Rahayu Cinema in the former city square not far from the Kauman Grand Mosque. It was 9 a.m. I was wondering why, by that time, she had not sold out of her gudeg and I was the only customer.

The gudeg was still the same but somehow it didn'€™t taste as divine as it once had. Suddenly I realized my father was not there with me as he always had been, for he had passed away.

There was no crowd conversing in a leisurely way that I could overhear and participate in, and Yu Yem had stopped being so talkative. Apparently, gustatory enjoyment is a holistic experience tied to the context where a dish was first consumed.

New touch: Yu Yem'€™s daughter-in-law continues her gudeg business.
Years later, I heard that Yu Yem had passed away. Apparently, her daughter continued the business despite her mother'€™s strong unwillingness to pass down her recipe. Word had it the daughter'€™s gudeg was less delicious than her mother'€™s. I had always wanted to try it but could not find her address as she kept relocating and did not open for business every day.

On a recent visit, I finally had lunch there, sitting on one of the old benches, now painted blue, where my father and I used to sit.

Situated on Jl. Bedagan next to Bedagan Motor, the establishment was festooned with an eye-catching Gudeg Rahayu banner outside, and a big portrait of Yu Yem and her husband inside.

The place offered a gudeg that was definitely not Yu Yem'€™s. However, the cook and seller, who turned out to be her daughter-in-law, said many of Yu Yem'€™s former patrons told her that her gudeg was 70-80 percent the same as her mother-in-law'€™s.

Well, the duck egg was the only thing that still tasted the same to me. Even the Javanese jasmine tea offered was Poci Superior instead of the more classic, refined Tong Tji, which Yu Yem favored.

Yu Yem'€™s first daugher, Sri Astuti, explained why they could not faithfully render their mother'€™s legacy.

'€œMother wouldn'€™t pass down her skills to us, her children, because making gudeg was extremely backbreaking work. She didn'€™t want her children to inherit the business and suffer like her. She wanted them all to go to university and earn better incomes and social standing '€” a dream that has come true as all her children are university graduates.'€

So, Yu Yem'€™s gudeg was meant to be a unique, one-off culinary experience available only during her lifetime and set to expire upon her death, never to be revived.

This way she will stay in her customers'€™ hearts forever, and the fabulous, unforgettable flavors of her gudeg remain indelibly etched in their memory, which, for me, provides an anchor that always brings me back to those precious moments at Kanjengan, thousands of mornings ago.