Bali’s cultural capital is also a hotbed of culinary creativity, with high-level chefs being driven by local produce and the culture of the surrounding environment as never before.

Photographs by Martin Westlake

Chef Syrco Bakker in the dining room of his new Ubud restaurant Syrco BASÈ; preparing a dish of picung, watermelon, and begonia leaf for the 20-course tasting menu at Locavore NXT. — *Left to right*: Chef Syrco Bakker in the dining room of his new Ubud restaurant Syrco BASÈ; preparing a dish of *picung*, watermelon, and begonia leaf for the 20-course tasting menu at Locavore NXT.

Eight courses into a weekday dinner at Gajah Putih, my fellow diners and I are bathed in a soundscape that transports us to the rice fields just beyond the restaurant’s periphery. Melodic birdsong and the quack-quack-quack of Bali ducks fill the darkened room, as beams of vivid green light pour onto a central stage where server-actors walk in slow circles, clear plastic umbrellas in hand. Then comes a crack of thunder and a blinding white flash. Parasols open up; one by one, the performers hang them on hooks strung from the rafters and make their exit. For the next few minutes, water droplets falling into the upturned umbrellas mimic the flow and rhythm of tropical rain. The calming New Age music crescendos. Our servers reappear with the next dish: duck fillet in a kaffir lime–spiked jus, dried tamarillo, and sprigs of fresh mint and gotu kola.

A blend of contemporary theater and story-driven cuisine, Gajah Putih debuted last August inside a nondescript concrete box on the southern outskirts of Ubud, in Bali’s central foothills. The 30-seat venue stands among a fresh crop of new or reopened avant-garde restaurants that are cementing the town’s reputation as a fine-dining destination. Broadly speaking, the immense potential of the local culinary scene hasn’t been lost on the Indonesian government, which has teamed up with the United Nations World Tourism Organization for a pilot project to turn Ubud into a “global hub of sustainable and authentic community-based gastronomic experiences.”

While it will take some time for that initiative to bear fruit, chefs and restaurateurs are blazing their own trails. Chris Salans’ Mozaic — a pioneer of independent fine-dining in Bali — awakened from its pandemic-era hibernation in late 2022 under the leadership of Blake Thornley. The gregarious, self-deprecating Kiwi had previously served as Mozaic’s executive chef for five years, and his first priority was getting the place back on its feet. “I just wanted to focus on the main dining room, so I encased that in glass, got rid of the tablecloths, and had the red walls repainted in green.”

What hasn’t changed is the dance between imported premium foodstuffs and local produce. At every occupied table, a Discovery Platter lets you hold and sniff Indonesian ingredients on the menu: lemon basil and calamansi grown on-site, mangosteen, a variety of rhizomes, and little banana-leaf trays loaded with seaweed and andaliman. The latter — a lemony cousin of the Sichuan peppercorn — infuses the clarified gazpacho around a kombu-cured Japanese kingfish. There’s also rose apple, pickled to complement pan-seared foie gras; and fermented kluwek seed, processed into an edible soil that girds a potato espuma topped with pata negra ham.

Habitués of the old Mozaic will be heartened to know its luxuriant garden was recently revived as the setting for an alfresco main course dubbed the “Mozaic picnic.” The evening I visit, a 16-day-aged Javanese duck is being roasted over the open fire, to be served in oversize tiffin boxes with milk bread and condiments like a zingy fennel flower and spiced almond dressing. Thornley believes a looser, more relaxed approach to fine dining is the best way forward. “Nowadays, nobody wants to sit at a table for three hours anymore.”

L’hort, a dining space at Room4Dessert; slipper lobster with suna cekuh sweetcorn and tempeh crumble at Mozaic. — *Left to right*: L’hort, a dining space at Room4Dessert; slipper lobster with *suna cekuh* sweetcorn and tempeh crumble at Mozaic.

Just up the street, Room4Dessert has been continually evolving and assessing its role within the local community since it first opened a decade ago. As renowned American pastry chef Will Goldfarb explains, “We try to share our observations of traditional wisdom and methods of healing through food that are integral to the Balinese concept of ngayah, or selfless service.” Dinners are preceded by a tour of the restaurant’s permaculture gardens, where the sweet aroma of champak flower perfumes the air and staff members narrate the benefits of turmeric, galangal, and ginger, not to mention cat’s whiskers flower (for treating kidney stones) and gotu kola (for improving brain health). Running along one side of the building, the tightly planted Miyawaki Forest is an effort to reintroduce native species to the grounds.

Last year, Goldfarb and his team opened the neighboring Powder Room, a casual spot for coffee, afternoon tea, and breakfast treats like mulberry-and-ricotta bomboloni and rosella “pop tarts.” He sees the entire operation as a platform for celebrating local talent and giving back to the environment that has nurtured his dreams since he arrived from New York in 2008. “I think Ubud was the perfect place to land in Bali — not just as a cultural and creative center, but also because it’s so close to nature, to our farmers and artisans, and the green life that seems increasingly rare these days,” Goldfarb recalls.

Founded by Ray Adriansyah and Eelke Plasmeijer, a passionate Indonesian-Dutch duo, the Ubud-based Locavore Group is doing even more to expand its reach. December saw the launch of its newly minted flagship restaurant, Locavore NXT, as well as plant-based venue Herbivore in the updated space that housed the old Locavore. I would be dining at both, but not before an eye-opening excursion into the hills.

Freshly harvested produce like sorghum and mango from Room4Dessert’s fields and gardens; Locavore’s cheffounders Eelke Plasmeijer and Ray Adriansyah. — *Left to right*: Freshly harvested produce like sorghum and mango from Room4Dessert’s fields and gardens; Locavore’s chef-founders Eelke Plasmeijer and Ray Adriansyah.

Red, a rosella-forward dish served at Room4Dessert; ; the skylighted bar inside Locavore NXT. — *Left to right*: Red, a rosella-forward dish served at Room4Dessert; the skylighted bar inside Locavore NXT.

The cloud-wreathed summit of Mount Agung, Bali’s highest peak, peers over the treetops as I navigate a dirt track beside fallow rice terraces irrigated with frigid mountain water. Leading the way are local farmer Pak Agung and Boss, a Locavore sous-chef and foraging specialist. Here, at an elevation of more than 800 meters, I’m keen to explore the wonderland that is Pak Agung’s tegal, or traditional food forest.

Boss — his real name is Ida Bagus Gde Yana Kasida — is eager to show me some of the wild and cultivated foodstuffs that make their way into Locavore’s kitchens. “We’ve worked with Pak Agung for almost 10 years to source ingredients like flowers and herbs,” he says, as we both nibble on the tart flamingo-pink buds of the trijata flower. I relish the mushroomy flavor of daun sendok (broadleaf plantain), and try delicate pearl-white popah fungi growing on the base of a fallen coconut frond (it acquires the taste of its medium). Boss also spells out the Balinese practice of ngalih reramon — foraging in the forest for ingredients to use in religious rituals. He gently breaks off a sprig of sour-spicy moringa leaves. “This is one of the most important plants for ceremonies in Bali, so we take care of it,” he explains. “That knowledge has been passed down from our ancestors.”

I’m soon introduced to the spongy coconut apple; lemba berries resembling tiny pearls of white dragon fruit; and the edible seeds and pale green flesh of an unripe lisah, which strikes me as a cross between a passion fruit and a melon. But what I love the most is the luscious, mildly alcoholic white mango known locally as wani — its sky-high sugar content means that fermentation starts even while it’s still ripening.

Back in Ubud, Herbivore’s Arnaud Hauchon distils the richness of white mango into a chewable candy. The French chef has specialized in plant-based cuisine for almost 20 years, cooking all over Scandinavia on top of stints in San Francisco and Hong Kong. “My aim here,” he tells me, “is to really give people a strong impression of Bali’s flavors. That with each bite, you know where you are.” In that, he has succeeded — my own multicourse lunch delivers an explosion of flavors and vibrant tropical hues. The classic Balinese condiment sambal matah is reimagined as a gel atop an appetizer of lemongrass-marinated cherry tomatoes, with a punchy shallot tuile on the side. A main course, which Hauchon describes as the most daring dish on the menu, is primarily about bitterness: skewered shiitake mushroom and fermented black bean, bitter gourd cream in a sweet-savory coffee kombucha reduction, cumin oil–flecked leaves of red amaranth, and a comforting griddle corn cake. From my foraging excursion, I recognize the medicinal young cemcem leaves that adorn a bubble gum–pink torch ginger sorbet on a swirl of fresh mango in soursop and amazake cream. It may well be the most colorful plant-based meal I’ve eaten yet.

Collecting arenga palm sap for making tuak (palm wine); fresh mango with torch ginger sorbet at Herbivore. — *Left to right:* Collecting arenga palm sap for making *tuak* (palm wine); fresh mango with torch ginger sorbet at Herbivore.

*Left to right*: Grubs in Pak Agung’s food forest; traditional dancers at Gajah Putih.

*Left to right*: Locavore NXT at twilight; foraged leaves and flowers.

The low-key arrival experience at Locavore NXT — marked by a rustic garden shed and a zigzagging pathway between high volcanic stone walls — hides its true scale and ambitiousness. Five years in the making, the building by Jakarta-based Budi Pradono Architects rises like a beached whale above the paddy fields a 20-minute drive south of town. It’s a brutalist beauty with Balinese flair: think cutout reliefs depicting rural scenes on a pillar, and a massive swing door encrusted in intricate and colorfully painted carvings. The structure’s exposed concrete is softened by the profuse greenery, 80 percent of which is edible.

Working closely with Agency X, Locavore’s creative consultancy partner, Pradono and his team sounded out the chefs’ shared vision. “The day we opened Locavore, we realized we were going to run out of space one day,” Plasmeijer recalls. “We always wanted to do more, and we just could not — not in that kitchen, not with that kind of menu, research-wise, prep-wise, everything.” The final result has delivered on all that, and then some. Aside from the dining room proper, there are multiple kitchens, including one for R&D; a rooftop permaculture garden; a sunset-facing lounge; a coffee bar-slash-design store; even three cottages for guests. Most importantly, Adriansyah and Plasmeijer wanted the flexibility to change the flow of service, giving them more possibilities of moving through and around the building. That paves the way for experiences like foraging on the roof or touring the rice paddies.

For now, the 20-course tasting menu begins at the lounge with a noni- and seaweed-infused welcome drink of arak (Balinese moonshine) and citrus tonic, followed by two tapas-like snacks. Downstairs in the dimly lit basement, beside the sci-fi mushroom-growing chamber, guests enjoy a sappanwood-tinted dumpling of smoked tofu, fermented mushrooms, and jicama, paired with a palette-cleansing “ugly mushroom” tea. “For this menu, we go a little deeper into Indonesian ingredients than before,” Adriansyah says. “I always wanted to have picung — picung is the young kluwek — on the menu and we never had the chance. The challenge is normally the logistics. It’s a bit difficult to transport and get the right amounts [from elsewhere in the country].”

Served in the buzzy dining room, the plump, deep-fried picung is hidden under slices of dehydrated watermelon and a crunchy begonia leaf, flavored with a Kintamani shallot vinaigrette. Even zanier is the humble jengkol (dogfruit) prepared two ways: pickled and tempura-fried, arranged along the side of a bowl with wood ear fungi and cashew andaliman butter in a foamy roasted cashew milk. I finish every last drop. “We’re on a mission to show that Indonesia has great produce, but it’s also very challenging,” Plasmeijer admits. “Not limiting, but challenging.”

*Left to right*: Counter seating at Herbivore by Locavore; a dish of free-range goat at Syrco BASÈ.

On the far side of Ubud, another Dutch chef is pursuing a similar goal at Syrco BASÈ. After nearly 13 years in Zeeland helming Sergio Herman’s beachfront restaurant Pure C — which garnered two Michelin stars — Syrco Bakker opened his Indonesian venture last November. The lauded chef may be no stranger to local spices thanks to his Indo-Dutch upbringing (“My grandfather is from Java and my grandmother is from Sumatra,” he says), but he’s excited at the plethora of herbs, aromatics, and fruits available in Bali. “Here it feels like we have so many more colors to paint with,” Bakker tells me. Underpinning it all is a commitment to use traceable and honest natural products, all locally sourced. “We try to connect as much as possible to producers, to craftsmen, to specialists, and to tell the stories of the people behind the products. Because without them, we can’t make great dishes.” One such supplier happens to be the same Pak Agung I’d met while foraging with Locavore.

Meanwhile, other ingredients — pineapple, sugarcane, aloe vera, and kaffir lime, for instance — are plucked straight from the courtyard garden. An aging room ensures that nothing is wasted; its shelves are lined with jars of eggplant garum, ginger torch vinegar made using leftover stems, and infused arak. Fish caught off Bali and Lombok spend a few days here dry-aging to improve their texture, before being turned into dishes like an amberjack gravlax with shoyu, torch ginger, and lemongrass, prepared at the 20-seat bar above the on-site shop.

Bakker himself plates up 17-course degustation dinners at Syrco BASÈ Ku, a chef’s table accessed via a sliding shelf from its private lounge. The two-story main restaurant has an upstairs area for aperitifs and desserts like a dainty, deconstructed jus alpukat, the chocolate syrup–laced avocado shake beloved across Indonesia. Of the three tasting menus offered downstairs, the one titled Heritage brims with local flavors. Barbecued Jimbaran grouper, topped by cat’s whiskers flower and a nest-like taro crisp, sits in a sweet-sour shellfish jus with turmeric and coconut milk. Placed on thick banana blossom sauce, the tender meat of a free-range goat that once roamed the slopes of Mount Batukaru comes glazed in the Balinese spice paste base genep; it’s plated with choy sum alongside foraged moringa and simbukan leaves — plants eaten by the goat itself. The “Finally Nasi Goreng!” course arrives in a small bowl featuring serundeng (spiced toasted coconut flakes), herbs, and coconut milk foam. It’s a tongue-in-cheek nod to Indonesia’s penchant for rice.

Syrco BASÈ’s gardenfacing dining room; “Balinese pesto” tops a dish of Bedugul-grown berries, vegetables, and herbs at Gajah Putih. — *Left to right*: Syrco BASÈ’s garden-facing dining room; “Balinese pesto” tops a dish of Bedugul-grown berries, vegetables, and herbs at Gajah Putih.

Several hours before service at Gajah Putih, founder Maksim Krasyuk recounts his journey from theater school in the Siberian city of Novosibirsk to the present. The entrepreneur washed up in Bali while on holiday 10 years ago and never left, eventually opening a series of café-bakeries with his Ukrainian wife. The inspiration for his latest project hit while he was transiting through Dubai. “I imagined in my mind a round table, not for many people maybe, in a dark room. And inside this round table, you have a special portal where you can see a story about Bali magic.”

The show’s first iteration is a paean to daily life on the island as seen through Krasyuk’s eyes. Not once does it veer off into tacky territory: the kecak dance is given a contemporary spin with EDM beats, while a segment about Bali’s worsening traffic jams culminates in an inside joke that will have any Indonesia resident clapping with delight. Each of the 10 bite-size stories, complete with props and amateur performers, finds its match in a corresponding dish by 31-year-old Aleksey Dokuchaev.

Having spent six years as sous-chef at CoCoCo, St. Petersburg’s now-defunct pioneer of New Russian cuisine, the recent arrival scoured local markets and looked to street food for ideas. (Which explains a dessert course featuring lak-lak, a rice flour–and-coconut pancake, but rolled into a ball with an oozy durian filling.) The only rule was to showcase Indonesian ingredients as much as possible, but for the rising chef, boundless creative freedom did have its challenges. Krasyuk recounts an early conversation between the two, about finding a dish to represent Balinese Hindu ceremonies. Ever the thespian, he enunciates each syllable for dramatic effect.

“Alex, we need ceremony.”

“What can I create with ‘ceremony,’ what can I do?”

“Alex, I don’t know. We just need ceremony!”

Dokuchaev’s solution was to reinterpret marigolds, typically used in religious rituals, as an edible offering for his guests. Tempura-fried and dusted in a powdered blend of kaffir lime, palm sugar, sea salt, and citric acid, the whole flower is eaten with the hands and dipped in a turmeric-infused béarnaise sauce. It surprises me with its sweet, earthy flavor.

The name Gajah Putih, too, has a spiritual connection. Inspired by Bali’s ubiquitous Ganesha statues, Krasyuk once sought the blessing of a temple priest to tattoo a white elephant on his arm. What he did not know was that the rare reddish-skinned pachyderms were historically prized by Southeast Asian kings. “The mangku said to me, ‘This is a big dream for everybody, finding a white elephant.’ And I had to give that name to my project, because it’s unique. There are not many places like this in the world.” The same, I think, can be said for Ubud.

Gajah Putih’s head chef Aleksey Dokuchaev; a rosella “pop tart” at Powder Room. — *Left to right*: Gajah Putih’s head chef Aleksey Dokuchaev; a rosella “pop tart” at Room4Dessert’s Powder Room.

*Left to right*: Amberjack gravlax at Syrco BASÈ; Herbivore’s restaurant manager.

Ubud’s New Bounty

WHERE TO STAY

Mandapa, a Ritz-Carlton Reserve
Stellar service is a hallmark of this tranquil hideaway with 35 hillside suites and 25 villas on the banks of the Ayung River (from US$960 a night).

The Wood Rooms
Locavore NXT’s three contemporary on-site cabins. Guests enjoy a backstage tour and a hearty breakfast in the staff canteen (from US$160 a night).

WHERE TO EAT

Gajah Putih
This “fine-dining theater” pays tribute to Bali both on the plate and on stage.

Herbivore by Locavore
Plant-based cuisine in the heart of Ubud that’s satisfying, fun, and big on flavors.

Locavore NXT
The impressive new home of an eatery known for its hyper-local approach.

Mozaic Restaurant
An enduring favorite on Bali’s fine-dining scene.

Room4Dessert
Tasting dinners here offer 15 courses spanning snacks, desserts, and petit fours.

Syrco BASÈ
Acclaimed Dutch chef Syrco Bakker’s months-old Bali restaurant.

This article originally appeared in the March/May 2024 print issue of DestinAsian magazine (“An Appetite for Ubud”).

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