Kitchenesia.com - We know you'd love to be in those places like in the movies, a hidden blue-ish cafe playing romantic music and stuff with the bartender saying hello to you like an old friend.
Say no more. Say hello to Acaraki.
To get into Acaraki, first you must enter the Kerta Niaga building whose front side overlooking Kali Besar (i.e Big River in Bahasa Indonesia).
Then, go past the dimly lit alley where a few vendors sell goods and food.
What I mean by “few” here is there are only three of them, spread thorughout the 150-feet-long alley.
If you get lost you can always ask the three vendors for directions since they are not that busy anyway.
Finally you'll arrive at Acaraki, it’s on your left if you are not aware where it is.
In Acaraki, the efforts you make to reach here really worth the trip.
Going inside, Acaraki stands out as a welcoming cafe with the right ambience you need.
I am not just talking about the white-brick walls boasting rustic aesthetic, but also the vintage ornaments and ample lighting that enhance the humble atmosphere.
Its bar counter has no boundary, creating a seamless connection between its barista and guests. It’s normal to see the barista and visitors chat and share a hearty laugh.
They even call each other's with names, like a couple of good old friends having a good time.
While it may not look out of the ordinary, Acaraki offers experimental dish you wouldn't find anywhere.
It serves, essentially, jamu, Indonesia's very own traditional herbal drink.
My supposedly quick visit then turned into a rather intimate conversation, as the founder of Acaraki, Jony Yuwono, politely welcomed and showed us Acaraki’s three variants of beras kencur (a drink made of galangal and rice flour extracts).
Though Acaraki just opened last year, the boss had created several daring renditions of jamu worth his salt.
What he does is vital: aesthetic plating by utilizing unexpected utensils.
You'll see here the likes of cutting board and coffee-brewing filter; and “bizarre” combination of jamu and modern condiment like creamer, ice cream, or even soda.
Drawing on its traditional-meets-modern style, Acaraki drills to the next level when it comes to the small but divine culinary details.
That time I instantly believed Acaraki’s jamu would taste as good as they looked.
A tiny cup of bold beras kencur became my starter.
If you have an insatiable sweet tooth, it might a bit of a challenge to try this drink.
The 32 ml jamu has a potent bitter taste that can be off-putting to picky eaters.
Light beras kencur might be a good alternative.
It is served with pretty tiny cup and jug-like glass, both put on a lavish wood tray, typical instagram-worthy dish.
It is an unconventionally sweet drink with slightly underlying bitter taste.
Every beverage in Acaraki is complemented with sugar and honey (additional charges may apply to some condiments).
My goodbye drink was Saranti, the third variation of beras kencur that served no trace of beras kencur at all.
It tasted more like a milkshake, rather than “artisanal” jamu.
Despite my confusion, it was actually a pretty satisfying drink. It had an appropriate sweet taste and came in big portion. I suggest you enjoy it cold.
It is hard to understand what’s in Jony Yuwono’s mind when he built Acaraki.
All the flaws that all restaurants nowadays struggle to avoid are available in doomsday-ish abundance here: obscure location and little-variation on the menu, just to name a few.
But Acaraki is surprisingly packed with urban workers and tourists, flocking this hidden herbs haven with revealing joy and laughters.
Perhaps these days good eateries shouldn’t spoil people with overwhelming and flashing offers. Rare experiences not to be found anywhere will be enough.
