In oft-overlooked Jakarta, a crop of gifted Indonesian chefs is leading the charge to put the city’s ascendant dining scene firmly on the map.

Crab custard with Hokkaido sea urchin at Kindling; the restaurant’s chef-owner Vallian Gunawan. (Photos: Jason Wong)

Black moss is not something you’d normally find in a savory egg custard. But the fine, slippery strands of algae thicken and tint a crab roe sauce coating the dish, creating a dark backdrop for two fat orange tongues of bafun uni. Seated in the homey dining room of Kindling, a Franco-Asian restaurant inside a rehabbed Dutch-colonial bungalow, I tease the silken crab custard with a spoon before digging in. The Hokkaido sea urchin practically dissolves in my mouth. But what strikes me most is the intense familiarity of the delicate black moss—the fat choy eaten during the Lunar New Year dinners of my Hong Kong upbringing. Its texture and subtle flavor instantly conjure up boisterous family get-togethers with the cousins and grandparents. I savor the nostalgia before taking another bite.

Barely five weeks old at the time of my visit, Kindling is the newest in a cohort of top-tier restaurants that are turning up the heat on Jakarta’s dining scene. All put the spotlight on talented local chefs armed with overseas experience, who deftly combine culinary rigor with freewheeling creativity to plate up dishes that are both inventive and deeply personal.

Take August, which raised the bar when it opened in late 2021 at the base of a gleaming office tower in the Sudirman Central Business District (SCBD). Chef-owner Hans Christian and managing partner Budi Cahyadi are crystal-clear about their vision for doing contemporary fine dining with an Indonesian touch. “We don’t cook traditional food,” Hans tells me straight off the bat. “Rather, this is our modern interpretation of how we perceive the flavors.” International recognition has altered the makeup of their clientele: Budi estimates that half of diners now come from abroad, with business travelers reporting a change in behavior. “They can see that Jakarta is on the rise, and a lot of them choose to extend their stay and explore the dining scene,” he says. “That didn’t happen three years ago.”

Relaxed chatter in multiple languages fills the air as I tuck into the 16-course Chef’s Journey menu. The Indonesian influence is apparent in every dish. Cakalang, the smoked skipjack tuna used in North Sulawesi’s Manadonese cuisine, is transformed into the gooey filling of a takoyaki-like mochi and the floss dusting its surface. A comforting main of braised daikon, chicken pieces, and slices of grilled oyster mushroom features Javanese long pepper oil in a clam-and-chicken broth with sweet coconut water. Grilled Natuna Sea octopus gets a coating of robust laksa sauce featuring corn, crisp cucamelon, and lemony andaliman peppercorn. Topped with holy basil and smoked grape pieces, the dish excites the palate with punchy, full-bodied flavors that dance on the tongue.

The kicker? Oversize bonbons of milk tea encased in an ultra-thin cocoa butter shell. Hans says the liquid filling is based on a fragrant blend of black tea leaves from three Javanese heritage brands. It’s a clever tribute to Indonesia’s Teh Kotak, a ubiquitous brand of jasmine tea packed in single-serve drinks cartons.

*Left to right:* August’s managing partner Budi Cahyadi and chef-owner Hans Christian; a main course of grilled octopus in corn laksa at the same restaurant. (Courtesy of August)

A seating area near the bar at August. (Courtesy of August)

Sea urchin tops the char siu skewers at Esa; a skylighted rock garden in the venue’s dining room. — *Left to right:* Sea urchin tops the *char siu* skewers at Esa; a skylighted rock garden in the venue’s dining room. (Courtesy of Esa)

*Left to right:* The Corn & Cocoa snack at Esa; chef-owner Aditya Muskita in the same restaurant’s open kitchen. (Courtesy of Esa)

Elsewhere in SCBD, Kevindra Prianto Soemantri welcomes me to Esa, the fine-dining restaurant he launched at the end of 2023 with friends Jessica Eveline—who runs the floor—and chef-owner Aditya Muskita. The culinary author excitedly relates discoveries made while researching his recent book Jakarta: a Dining History. “I never realized that Jakarta in colonial times was actually the dining capital of Southeast Asia,” he recalls. “Books by British and Dutch travelers who came in 1901 say it was even more lavish than Hong Kong and Singapore.”

A deep awareness of the city’s history prompted Esa’s founders to serve what they call New Jakarta Cuisine, which reflects its multicultural, melting-pot character. For centuries, people of Jakarta have been absorbing foreign influences and regional flavors from all across the Indonesian archipelago, adapting and making them their own. Kevindra has a name for it: Jakartanizing Locality. “As a restaurant, we have to respond to who we really are as a city, right?”

Esa’s head chef also revisited the past to design the current Moments menu. “It’s about re-creating my own personal memories of the nineties and early 2000s,” Aditya explains. Hence the trio of small bites inspired by after-school snacks, and a lamb rib–and-tea course evoking childhood visits to roadside satay eateries amid the rolling plantations of Puncak, a two-hour drive south of town. Nastar, the mini pineapple tarts eaten during Eid al-Fitr, are made naughty with the addition of tequila gel. Sandwiched between crispy wafers and bracingly cold to touch, Aditya’s larger disc-shaped version also features brioche ice cream with a hint of cinnamon.

While the menu may be whimsical and playful, Esa’s chefs are serious about the provenance of their ingredients, most of which are local. They rely on specialists like Pak Oka, a knowledgeable fisherman who casts his line into the deep waters between Bali and Lombok. “He only catches Japanese-type fish, so we can find kinmedai and madai,” says Aditya. Pak Oka’s catch goes into courses such as rujak ikan—an ensemble of amberjack, seaweed jelly, and sliced daikon crowned with sea grapes and prawn cracker strings. A zingy passion fruit and bell pepper sauce hints at the source of inspiration: the Jakartan street-food dish rujak juhi.

Near the end of the meal, Aditya serves us a dessert nodding to his time interning at Copenhagen’s now-defunct Relæ, where he first tasted the sweet, zesty huacatay (Peruvian black mint). He unexpectedly stumbled across the herb some months ago while visiting a supplier in the highlands of neighboring West Java province. Plucked from terraced gardens owned by Novio Fresh, a Bali-born agrobusiness, the leaves are made into a sorbet paired with Japanese-quality hydroponic strawberries from nearby Hyoshii Farm. The final touch is a pea-sized wad of wasabi grown in Central Java. “All these ingredients are local, but none of them are native,” Aditya says. “Hence the spirit of Jakarta, where everyone comes from somewhere else.”

The rujak ikan dish at Esa features amberjack and seaweed jelly; counter-side seating by Esa’s kitchen. — *Left to right:* The *rujak ikan* dish at Esa features amberjack and seaweed jelly; counter-side seating by Esa’s kitchen. (Courtesy of Esa)

*Left to right:* Su Ma’s chefs Ryan Kim and Rachel Tjahja; the Golden Egg starter from the Vol. 4 menu at Su Ma. (Photos: Courtesy of Su Ma; Dio Manalu/Zou)

Wagyu A5 beef Wellington at Su Ma; a snack featuring sancha tea leaves and foie gras at the same restaurant. — *Left to right:* Wagyu A5 beef Wellington at Su Ma; a snack featuring *sancha* tea leaves and foie gras at the same restaurant. (Photos: Dio Manalu/Zou)

Situated in a neglected street behind a bus terminal amid the youthful grunge of South Jakarta’s Blok M neighborhood, Su Ma defies expectations in more ways than one. It spans the upper floor of a whitewashed building meant for a kinetic art gallery, and is led by a female chef who attended Le Cordon Bleu Australia but left the industry after toughing it out in Sydney’s male-dominated restaurant kitchens. “I did the two years of internships I needed to graduate,” Rachel Tjahja tells me candidly. Boredom during the pandemic drove her to do pre-orders via Instagram and venture into private dining. Then the offer came to open up her own restaurant with pastry chef Ryan Kim, who also runs Korean-style patisserie Fragments with his Indonesian wife. (Coincidentally, the three of them rubbed shoulders at Le Cordon Bleu.) Their combined backgrounds are the bedrock of Su Ma’s identity. “Ryan is Korean, and I’m Chinese-Indonesian,” Rachel says. “I used to do a lot of Japanese-French cooking. So, the thread joining us together is the East Asian–ness. And what we try to do at Su Ma is interpret what East Asian culture is like through the food and the experience.”

The new Vol. 4 menu channels those ideas into seven- and 10-course options. Painstakingly made to resemble a halved egg, a too-beautiful-to-eat starter comprises a basil “yolk” in a jelly- like soy ginger base topped with Kaluga caviar and gold leaf. Just as inventive is the Kombu Jime salad, a Japanese-tropical take on the Lunar New Year specialty yusheng. Arranged like rose petals in the dish’s center are slices of cured Hokkaido scallop and then sheets of sesame oil and ume gelatin. Adding to the vibrant potpourri of colors and textures are shredded Japanese ginger buds, coconut togarashi, slivers of shiso leaf, hand-pulled pomelo, sliced winged bean, and pomegranate seeds. As if that weren’t enough, the salad is drizzled in a tangy chrysanthemum and tamarind dressing.

Rachel’s personal favorite on the menu plays off Chinese-Indonesian dish ikan tahu tausi. Resting on a base of crispy fried tofu in sesame shochu sauce, the chargrilled toothfish features a tapenade of black olive and fermented soybean paste, as well as pickled papaya dongchimi. The Korean influence is more discernible in Buckwheat, a wonderfully nutty all-white dessert that parlays its namesake ingredient into ice cream and meringue, balancing them with yuzu gel and snow-like clumps of sea-salt mousse made using liquid nitrogen. I’m told it’s the second coming of a hit from the inaugural season that riffed off nurungji, the crisped rice at the bottom of a cooking pot. Rachel is justifiably proud of the menu’s evolution. “Su Ma will be two years old this August, but I think we’ve finally found our voice.”

*Left to right:* Looking into Su Ma’s main dining room; the Kombu Jime salad at Su Ma. (Photos: Haryo Bimo/Zou; Dio Manalu/Zou)

*Left to right:* The entrance to Ironplate’s private dining room, shaved foie gras with rosettes at the same venue. (Courtesy of Ironplate)

*Left to right:* An appetizer of salmon rillettes at Ironplate; Andri Dionysius, the chef patron of MDA Restaurants. (Courtesy of Ironplate)

Back across town in the embassy-filled Kuningan district, I meet Andri Dionysius, the maverick chef who partnered with Indian-Indonesian entertainment mogul Manoj Punjabi to set up MDA Restaurants. Originally trained as a computer engineer, he pivoted to the culinary world in the united States, where he worked his way up the ladder at Japanese eateries before landing a job with celebrity chef Akira Back. His return to Jakarta in 2014 was part of a broader mission to lead the international expansion of Back’s restaurant brands. At that time, he used truffle oil when the ingredient—and its musky smell—was still relatively new in these parts. “At least once a week, somebody would call the server over: ‘Tell the chef there’s a gas leak.’” Andri howls with laughter at the memory.

Truffle oil scents some of the menu items at Ironplate, a Franco-Asian steakhouse that took teppan cooking into new territory when it opened in 2022. I’m privileged to witness Andri himself presiding over a half-moon griddle to assemble a parade of dishes using self-developed techniques. While slow-cooking Australian wagyu picanha to absolute perfection, he also prepares clam broth with sake and pulverized dashi in a clear Moka pot, to be poured over butter-seared baby abalone and accordion potato in a sauce of wild Japanese parsley—an Asian version of moules-frites. Andri also draws a frame with pancake batter to shallow-fry snow crab–stuffed morel mushrooms. “This is my take on Rangoons, a favorite at Panda Express. They’re usually made of wonton skins stuffed with imitation crab and cream cheese.”

Even more theatrical is the combination of steaming and salt-baking applied to local kinmedai, sourced from none other than Pak Oka. The meaty fillets are pressed between sheets of kombu with coarse sea salt heaped on top, before undergoing a “sake sauna,” whereby sake is dripped from an upturned bottle into the hole of a domed lid. One thing’s for sure: Ironplate deserves far more recognition for its sheer originality.

Carrara 640 wagyu beef at Kindling; the same venue’s veal sweetbread with coconut, rice cake, and spiced eggplant. — *Left to right:* Carrara 640 wagyu beef at Kindling; the restaurant’s veal sweetbread with coconut, rice cake, and spiced eggplant. (Photos: Jason Wong)

Inside the main dining hall at Kindling, which occupies a restored 1900s bungalow. — Inside the homey dining hall at Kindling, which occupies a restored 1900s bungalow. (Courtesy of Kindling)

Ninety minutes before service at Kindling, chef-owner Vallian “Val” Gunawan offers his take on Jakarta’s rising food scene. “A friend described it as Bangkok six to seven years ago. But I’d say it feels very different, because it’s not a tourist city. You’re really cooking for the local people.”

Raised in the Sumatran city of Medan, Val spent 11 years abroad, much of it working at Michelin-starred French restaurants in Singapore and Hong Kong. Even after coming back to helm Bali’s popular Skool Kitchen, he never forgot a lifelong dream to run his own high-caliber restaurant. Then the like-minded founder of Jakarta’s homegrown Biko Group—known for its casual-hip establishments—tapped him for their first-ever foray into fine dining. The charming 1900s bungalow Kindling inhabits was also a perfect match for an unintimidating experience that Val likens to “going to your friend’s house to play.” A meal begins in the Living Room, which takes up the building’s seventies extension. Here, guests nibble on snacks like a brick pastry roll of assam laksa–spiced tuna tartare before strolling down a breezy corridor to the wine cellar and dining room. Petits fours follow at the dimly lit Library, a cozy lounge and bar behind the kitchen.

As for the constantly changing menu, Val tracks the seasons both locally and overseas, giving his team free rein to source black winter truffles from Europe, summer-ripened stone fruits from Australia, Japanese seafood, and ocean bounty from Pak Oka. This produce goes into beautifully executed dishes made with local diners in mind. “We incorporate some Chinese and Southeast Asian methods, but it’s predominantly a French technique–driven cuisine. The flavor profile itself is very Asian.” That explains the unmistakably Indonesian feel of the tender veal sweetbread, marinated in the style of ayam taliwang, a grilled chicken dish from Lombok. Served with coconut foam, spiced eggplant purée, and puffed sago, it offers up a faultless balance of bold flavors and delicate textures.

For the final savory course, Val drew on the memories of his mother’s homemade paofan, elevating the humble rice dish through the use of sought-after ingredients: braised fish maw, spongy crescents of sea cucumber, lacy bamboo pith mushroom, and a topping of shaved black truffle. Everything is then immersed in twice-cooked chicken bouillon poured at the table. “All these things coming together, it’s like a combination of my personal experience eating a certain dish and how I was trained to cook,” Val tells me. In a way, the paofan also speaks to the blended nature of Jakarta itself—a place of reinvention where the Indonesian and the foreign, the traditional and the avant-garde, intermingle in exciting new ways.

Kindling’s main dining hall looks out to a manicured garden. (Courtesy of Kindling)

This article originally appeared in the March/May 2025 print issue of DestinAsian magazine (“A Fine Balance”). Buy a single issue or subscribe here.

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