#9: Maximizer mode activated
#9: Maximizer mode activated
When I told you in my last letter that something is happening, this is what I meant. Me? Sending two letters one week apart? Ha. Where this stamina and confidence in my own thoughts is coming from I have no idea, but my therapist will be pleased to learn I’m not letting my irrational self-doubt win.
Yesterday was a nice day, one I was lucky enough to get to spend with some friends from pretty early in the morning to the wee hours of Sunday. I wanted to write a bit about that.
08.00 - 11.00
When I woke up Saturday morning, Avi had already landed in Jakarta. She was in town for a quick interpreting gig and was flying back to Bali later that evening. It was 08.00 and I’d only had 4.5 hours of sleep, but I like doing breakfasts and I like Avi, so I took a cold shower to shock my system into consciousness and started my day.
I told Avi to meet me at Ombe Senopati, which I have a love/hate relationship with. On one hand, they serve one of my favorite bakmies (by the standard of what is available in Jaksel ok, this is not a bakmie discourse bait!). On the other hand, spending Rp90.000 on a bowl of bakmie is not how I typically like to start my day. It’s not how I like to have my bakmie at all, but alas. Ombe Senopati is one of the perfect non-mall places I go to microdose the city. Not that it’s the perfect representation, but it does put you smack in the middle of its endless contradictions, which is core to any Jakarta experience; hating how expensive shit is but refusing to part with its many delightful conveniences, turning people into caricatures in my head while walking around being that very caricature myself, needing so much space alone but also needing the noise, the buzz, the feel of people around me to function.
Jakarta is a city or ironies and Ombe is the ideal place for a quick hit. By the time you finish your delicious cup of overpriced coffee, you will have caught a glimpse into the lives of yoga moms, bicycle dads, tante arisan, kakak SCBD, om-om shouting business deals into a phone. Everything equal parts demoralizing and aspirational, everyone looking like they have their shit together, and then there’s me and my little life with nothing worth screaming into the phone about.
“That bakmie was 90k???” — Avi, before the meal.
”Rasanya kayak pengen bungkus 3 porsi…” — Avi after the meal.
14.00-16.30
I waited for Avi to finish work at the always lovely, forever missed Fillmore, and after that Audi, Rocky, Meisya, and Odi joined us for lunch at Silk.
Silk is this new Biko Group restaurant in Menteng that came as a kind of pleasant surprise when they opened earlier this year. A surprise because the year is 2023 and the idea of a pan asian restaurant just did not seem that … groundbreaking and necessary. New, hip concepts have been popping up on my IG feed lately and a chic Menteng restaurant serving dimsum, kwetiau, laksa, etc. seemed to go against this current of more experimental hangs. Pleasant because after several visits I’m thinking that may just be the whole point.
Perhaps the post-pandemic hangout isn’t so much new, neon-bright spaces that make you feel like you’re in a space ship, and more about cozy comforts in a midcentury interior that made us feel something at the height of lockdown when influencers doing interior design content was all the rage. Silk does this well, dressing up classic comforts with vibes — and Menteng, a neighborhood too posh and government-officials-in-batik–adjacent to be “cool”, could use just a touch more vibes.
I love that their nasi goreng, both the signature and vegan variety, is actually delicious and pair well with just about any of their other dishes. Their kwetiau is smokey and delightful. Their unagi dry ramen a crowd favorite. The two chicken dishes hits all the right notes. Sides like prawn toast, char siu bun, all gush-worthy. I honestly don’t know if it’s the crowd or the food that makes every visit such a good time, but going with a group + makan tengah is the way to go, since you get to sample more stuff. Bonus points that their tables are just the right height (even the sofa tables), lighting is nice and warm, albeit terrible for food photos. If you’re visiting during the day, like I did get to do for the first time, the space gets so much natural light it’s beautiful.
We left with stomachs full and minds anxious for Avi, an actual virgo, who seemed way too calm about the fact that her flight takes off in two hours. (Is this a Bali thing? I think it’s a Bali thing.)
20.00 - 03.00
This was not a thrifty day. No "Jakarta day” ever is. But it is also the Saturday of a four-day long weekend, so I was kind of on maximizer mode, wanting to keep the good times going.
After a brief visit to Semasa in Lapangan Banteng post-lunch (nice vibes, very hot, very crowded, very long lines), I went home to cool down, have dinner over an episode of Girls, and take a 15-minute nap before heading out again for drinks. I was ready to pass out and call it a day at this point, but Audi had mentioned dancing, which is something that doesn’t happen often enough for me to casually say no to.
Fueled by a persistence to maximize, we ended up going to three different places. The first was this new bar with tasty cocktails, a DJ who played absolutely no flops for two hours, but no crowd. We were practically the only ones there. The second place had okay cocktails, a DJ whose idea of a good time was to blast an afrobeat version of every crowd pleasing song known to mankind, and also no crowd — something that was mattering less and less as our heads got lighter. The third was a place across the street where the drinks were alright but the music was good and there were people dancing.
By the time we got to the last place, the drinks were starting to taste like maybe it was a free flow...? Like maybe I had no ongoing existential crisis? Like I was as good as everyone else? So much joy! Such peace! And then the DJ put on Wonderwall. I swear this city’s nightlife and its relationship with Oasis needs to be studied.
On the way home I replayed photos/videos from the night and thought about how some nights are worth the extra push. How that DJ at that first place managed to set the tone despite the lack of audience, significantly recharging my social battery levels. “Always a shame when good nights end,” I thought as I typed in a reminder on my phone to calculate everyone’s bills first thing the next day.