Lutfi Gilang's

13. Sambal Price Increase

i

We arrived at Balaikemambang park after performing the Ashar prayer service in the mosque near there.

After parking the motorbike and paying the parking fee, then buying the entrance ticket, Lutfi and I looked for an empty seat.

We sat face to face in the same chair with a box of sterophom dividers. I opened the thing, and unbinded the plastic wrap. Then slip a spoonful to make sure that the heat will not make Lutfi tongue babakan. Indeed, I'm pretty resistant to hot food than a common human.

"Where?" Lutfi.

"It's not hot. Try, "I answered while bribing him, then followed back. "Where?"

"Surprisingly," he said, then quickly picked up a drink.

"Any?" Taste again. A spoon, two spoons, and three spoons. "Some, how?"

"Taste, stuffing. That's not real chili, is it?"

I looked at the seblak in my hand. "I guess yes, chili powder probably."

"Well, I don't like it."

I muttered, starting to feel guilty. "Will you try the claw?"

She shook her head. "Give it up, for you."

"Well, you ain't eating?"

"Ga, buy some chicken noodles."

"Now," I'm trying to make amends.

"Later, abisin first." she replied.

"Related?" I asked to make sure.

He's nodding.

I followed him by eating seblak alone. Ah, it feels so bad. How could I possibly enjoy food while my own lover could not enjoy it, right?

And as I spent the night, as we chatted about things, there was something strange about Lutfi. He grew limp, his face turned pale, and his hands did not even move from his stomach.

"Why?"

She shook her head.

"Your stomach hurts?" manyworry.

"Yes" he replied limply.

"Why?"

"Ga knows. Winding," he said while squeezing the stomach.

I can tell what he feels just from seeing him express or behave. And, I'm sure, the pain in his stomach was due to the seblak he ate earlier.

"It's like eating seblak" said Lutfi, reinforcing my hypothesis.

"Sorry," I said. I am truly sorry that I chose this food for her.

"Yes, papa. I'm sorry, too, I don't think I fit together."

"Yes, let's buy chicken noodles." I bargained to make amends.

"You take it easy, it's used."

I nodded and quickly spent it.

From then on, I no longer invited him to eat. And it also applies to pizza, or burgers, or ramen, or papeda, or cilor, or other weird foods— made with packaged spices.

🌹🌹🌹

ii

A quarter of an hour has passed. We arrived at a subscription chicken noodle shop, a stall across the street from SMAN Purwokerto. As usual, the customers are in and out stably, so it is not too stuffy in the stalls as a result of most people. As always, I ordered two servings of chicken noodles, one was a lot—makku—and the other was given an extra work—make Lutfi, then a glass of orange ice—make us.

But, this time, that day, there was something different from Lutfi. He took more chili than usual. Ten spoons!

"Ga mostly that?" I nanya after Lutfi stir and eat his chicken noodles.

"Still less," he answered.

"Huh?"

"Yes, less is still. Ambilin again, that's."

I nodded with a confused feeling. Towards the table whose users had finished eating the chicken noodles they ordered. Then go back to Lutfi, and hand him over. "Now, just a little but." I said.

"Ga papa's. Thanks, huh?" respond while pouring the whole sauce into his bowl. Then eat chicken noodles with chopsticks. "Would you like to try?" ask her a few minutes later.

"Can,"

I immediately sipped some orange ice after Lutfi bribed me.

"Haaah.

"That's it, it's still ordinary." Lutfi deflected, making me surprised. "Maintain sambel, lah." she asked as she pushed the little green container towards me.

"Didn't your stomach hurt? That's really bad." I tried to advise him.

"Ga is sick when he eats it. Go on, spit."

"Because...." I really feel there is something different about Lutfi today.

I approached the shop owner. "Sir, ask for a sauce." I said as I placed the container in front of him.

"Oh yes," said the chicken noodle maker. "please." he said later after pushing a fully filled sambal container.

"Thank you, sir." I said.

"Same-sama, Mas" he said.

I sat back in my chair and handed it to my girlfriend.

I gulped, very sure that common man—aku also—takkan able to withstand the level of spiciness. If you deny it, you can try it yourself, eat chicken noodles with sambal as much as 20-30 tablespoons.

Oya, the sauce is not just any sambal, it is the result of chilli cablak type that has been boiled and then blended with added garlic and a little water and salt.

If later you have practiced it and you enter the hospital, do not blame me, blame yourself who ngeyel— do not believe that Lutfi is indeed the Queen of Spicy.

We continued eating as usual. Several times I had Lutfi, and he said: "Sweet," Some times Lutfi would feed me, but I immediately refused because I did not dare to challenge his spiciness.

After eating, drinking, and waiting for food to come down with a chat. We got up and paid.

"Sir, pay." I said.

"Yes, Mommy." said he. "What message?"

"Chicken noodles two, plug one, iced orange one, the same added krupuk one." I explained.

"Lock one, a thousand; iced orange one, three thousand; krupuk one, a thousand; same chicken noodles two, so all."

"Loh...." I was surprised, feeling that the price was not as usual. "I think, mostly, sir."

"That's the right fit, Mas. Ordinary kayak." replied the chicken noodle seller.

"Chicken noodles two, right, sixteen. Add five, yeah so two one should."

Father the chicken noodle maker breathed. "One was eight thousand, the other twenty-four thousand."

"Huh?" I'm appalled. "No way, so triple, sir?"

"Well, that's how it's sambel on Mas's desk, right?"

I'm nagging.

"Keep the chili again to the next table, right?"

I'm asserting.

"Keep the sambel back here, will you?"

I began to understand what the chicken noodle seller said.

"I want to make customers, Mas. But it's all just like that. Now chili's up, Mas."

"Yes, yes, sir." I reached into my pocket and there was only Rp. 32,000,-. "Sorry sir, if you can pay for an ATM, yes?" my many.

The father laughed. "It's a small shop, Mas. Don't joke, do."

I scratch my head. "In a moment, yes, sir." Then go out to see Lutfi.

"Kok, long?" He's nanya.

"Yes, abis was interrogated." I answered

"Well, why?"

I exhale. "less money. I'll pinch your money first, I can."

"How much?"

"Five thousand."

"More,"

I received that money. "Thank you. Bentar, huh?"

"Yes," Angguk Lutfi.

I went back to the chicken noodle shop, and handed the money to the father. "Try sir, count again. Who knows less."

The father followed my orders. Then look at me with a smile. "Pas, Mommy. Thanks, huh? Don't knock, come again."

"Yes, sir."

"Udah?" asked Lutfi after I got out of the chicken noodle shop.

I'm nagging.

"How much abbuse was that?"

"Thirty-seven,"

"Well, how much?"

"Yes, pay the sambel too."

"Huh?" Lutfi was shocked and laughed. "He he he. sorry."

"Ga papa's. You're a sucker, aren't you?" I'm nanya.

"Yes" He smiled.

"His stomach doesn't hurt?" I grew worried, because Lutfi had eaten food that was not suitable for his stomach and had just leaned sambel a lot.

Lutfi. "Udah. Emang, if again menstruation in order to eat pedes continue."

"Huh? You're having your period again?"

"Yes," Nodded. "Eat my stomach hurts."

"So, not because of seblak?"

"Yes, that too. But more to his period, anyway. Why emang?"

I'm shaking. Confused what to say.

🌹🌹🌹

iii

Since then, I have avoided all foods that are not suitable for Lutfi's tongue. Very traumatized if you have to pay compensation for chicken noodles worth three times.