Who loves chilli? No? Leave the room. For the rest, you’re in good company. Great swathes of the world’s population can’t get by without a daily fix of chilli, in the same way Aussies are addicted to vegemite and the Dutch to salty licorice. Nowhere, perhaps, is chilli fixation more clearly illustrated than in the consumption of sambal (or, more correctly, sambals; there are umpteen of them), a relish-like concoction used as a condiment for various types of dishes, many of these already a spice-hit in their own right.
The first fact to know about sambals is that while they constitute a BIG topic, they all share the presence of chilli. Chillis aren't native to Asia but they thrive there; sambals are used widely in Indonesia and Malaysia (and Sri Lanka too). Varieties of chilli were introduced to the region by the Portuguese around 400 years ago via the Americas; the rest, as they say, is spiced-up, sweat-inducing, lip-stinging culinary history. The word ‘sambal’ is reckoned to come from ‘sambar,’ a southern Indian word for an ultra hot version of the lentil-based dish called dhal. Throw out the lentils, amp up the chillies, hurl around a few more south-east Asian staples (shrimp paste, garlic, palm sugar, maybe a candlenut or two, for example), chuck in a few more chillis for luck and you’ve got a sambal. Sort of.
Sambals fall into one of two straight-forward camps - namely ‘cooked’ and ‘uncooked’. Some sambals are all-purpose, employed rather like tomato sauce and slathered over everything in sight, willy nilly. Others are made to accompany a specific dish. Some sambals are smooth, some are coarse and some are downright nubbly. Some employ fresh chillies (generally red but sometimes green), while others are based on dried chillies. Many can be made in bulk and stored in jars so they’re constantly on hand; others need to be freshly made. Some are best whipped up just before serving. Cooked sambals are generally fried in oil and simmered until reduced and thickened, and tend to be paste-like. Uncooked sambals can also be smooth in texture but many are quite chunky, not unlike a Mexican salsa.
Chilli is always at the heart of a good sambal - often in good company with ginger, garlic, palm sugar and lemongrass. Source: Alan Benson
Confused? Stay with us here. One example of an uncooked sambal is Balinese sambal matah, a course mixture of chopped shallot, lime, shrimp paste, chilli, garlic (and sometimes lemongrass) that’s the perfect accompaniment for grilled fish or chicken.
Arguably the best known sambal is sambal oelek, a simple raw, smooth, red chilli paste spiked with vinegar. It gets its name from the Dutch word for ‘ulek’, the flat, stone Javanese mortar used, with a stone pestle, to grind ingredients into spice pastes and sambals. Experts say that the unique consistency achieved by using an ulek affects the quality and flavour of the finished product, and wouldn’t use a sambal made by any other method. But plenty of time-poor cooks throughout Asia don't have such qualms; sambal oelek, which can be served as a straight condiment or be added to other dishes as an ingredient, is easily purchased in jars and commercial versions are popular.
Use sambal oelek in these sensational crisp-yet-sticky honey-sambal chicken wings.
Source: Alan Benson
The multiplicity of sambals is best seen in Indonesia, a nation of mind-spinning cultural and culinary diversity. Whether Ambonese, Balinese, Sundanese or Acheh-nese, Indonesians share such a love of spiciness that, when a chilli-spiked dish isn't considered incendiary enough, they add a little sambal.
Or, in many cases, a lot. Chef Luke Nguyen says he noted this when traveling there to research his Street Food Asia show. “Indonesians love sambal,” he says, “and they can pack it on too. Watching street food cooks prepare their dish, it was almost like the main dish was the sambal, and everything else was the accompaniment. Everything is super spicy with loads of chilli, but that’s how the locals like it.” He does point out, though, that a very few sambals aren’t so fiery, such as sambal kacang, a sweet-savoury peanut paste mixed to order on a broad ulek and used to dress that most classic of Javanese salads (and one of his favourite dishes), gado-gado.
Every Indonesian region has its own special sambal line-up. In Central Kalimantan for example, they love sambal kandas sarai, (a spicy-sour mix of shredded cooked catfish, lemongrass and pounded chillies) so much, they eat it as a main dish with rice. Sambal wijen, from Central Java, is a murky brown paste, based on sesame seeds and hitting all the sweet/sour/spicy/bitter notes that make it the perfect accompaniment for pecel, an elaborate main course salad. Sambal ratcha mangga from Sulawesi is a condiment specifically designed to go with fish head soup, and made using raw, shredded unripe mango and chilli paste. Then there’s sambal tumpang, a cooked sambal that’s a cunning way to use up slightly rank (as in ‘off’) tempeh, the fermented soybean protein unique to Indonesia. As well as pounded tempeh it contains a spice paste of chilli, lime leaves, galangal, kencur and coriander seed; everything gets simmered in coconut milk until the mixture is thick, then it’s served over salad with rice. Simpler by far is sambal colo colo from Ambon, a simple, uncooked mixture of chopped tomato, chill and shallots with lime, swimming in thick, sweet kecap manis. It’s a winner with barbecued chicken or fish.
Chilli, onion, tomato, garlic, palm sugar and lime come together in the sambal served with these Javanese beef ribs.
Source: Alan Benson
In Malaysia, they have their own, distinctive sambals. The repertoire isn’t as massive as the Indonesian one however, which, by some reckoning numbers around 300.
Sydney-based cooking expert Jackie M Tang, who specialises in teaching Malay street food dishes, explains that in Malaysia there are two main sambals that people use on a general, daily basis.
The first is sambal belacan, named after the odiferous, fermented shrimp paste of the same name (make your own with this recipe from Food Safari). It’s a predominant ingredient, along with fresh chilli, shallots and garlic. With optional additions like soy, palm sugar and lime juice thrown, according to taste. For Malays it’s almost unthinkable, she says, to have any meal without sambal belacan alongside. Balancing out the sweet richness characteristic of many Malaysian dishes, it’s eaten with everything from laksa, coconut-milk based curries, meaty braises and noodle dishes to grilled fish and chicken. It’s easily made, she says; the only part of it that requires cooking is the belacan, which gets dry roasted in a pan, wrapped in a piece of tin foil. After that, a quick mulching in a food processor (or a mortar using a pestle) with the few remaining ingredients and voila. Sambal belacan.
The other essential Malay sambal is, she explains, sambal ikan bilis. Whereas sambal belacan is all-purpose, crunchy sambal ikan bilis is made specifically to eat with nasi lemak, a coconut and pandan scented rice dish served for breakfast with curry or rendang , peanuts, boiled egg and cucumber. Ikan bilis are tiny, dried anchovy-like fish that are fried then cooked with shallot, soaked dried chilli, onion and tamarind to a thick, crunchy, gooey sambal. “I hate to generalise too much about sambals,” Jackie is quick to say. “The way they are made and used is very regional and even personal. Even for me, some of the ways that sambal can be made is ‘exotic.’ Recently when I was in Malaysia I had different types of sambal for grilled fish; some were really quite runny, others were green and some were very coarse and this variety surprised even me.”
A Malaysian classic: Sambal fish (sambal ikan) pairs turmeric fish with an onion-chilli sambal. How hot you make it is up to you.
Source: Alan Benson
Culinary writer and gourmet tour host Tony Tan, who, like Tang, also grew up in Malaysia, explains that while many sambals follow similar methods of construction and cooking, every family makes them slightly differently, according to their preference for spiciness.
Like almost everyone from this part of the world, he confesses an addiction to them. ”As well as contributing chilli heat,” he explains, “they lend subtly and nuance to a dish.”
“Sambal becomes a daily staple from an early age,” he says and becomes something “Malays can’t live without.” He regularly makes his own, saying his favourites are chilli sambal with tamarind, sambal ikan bilis and a pineapple sambal he makes to go with grilled fish in banana leaf. He admits he’s something of a purist when it comes to making sambal at home, where it’s mortar and pestle all the way. He explains that for him, hand-grinding ingredients together ‘“just gives a better texture”.
Jackie M begs to differ, making hers using a machine and saying that today, many Malay home cooks also favor the onvenience and speed of a food processor. But, even though they bring different methods to the table, one thing that both agree on is that you should definitely make your own sambal, if you possibly can. “If it comes from a jar,” Jackie reckons, “I can taste the preservatives. Commercial sambals just dont taste as good, or as fresh, as what you’d make yourself.”
While red is more common, some sambals use green chillis, such as this Sumatran egg curry with green sambal (sambal lado ijo)
Sumatran egg curry Source: Alan Benson
These expert cooks urge that you taste and tweak your sambal as you go, according to your preference. Salt and sugar bring out flavour and help ingredients break down when they’re pounded or processed. Citrus juice or vinegar address tanginess, fish sauce and shrimp paste impart funk and umami. Lemongrass, garlic and ginger, give a lovely aromatic edge. Depending on your recipe, add more or less of the various components, until you have the sweet/salty/sour balance you like. One thing you simply can’t skimp on, are the chillies. That would be just... wrong.
Photography by Alan Benson. Styling by Sarah O'Brien. Food preparation by Tina McLeish.
Discover more about Asia's love of spice with Donal's Asian Baking Adventures, double episodes 8.30pm Sundays on SBS Food (Channel 33) with streaming on SBS On Demand.
So many sambals!
Raw Balinese sambal (sambel matah)
