The kitchen here is open-air. No walls, no AC, just the Indian Ocean breeze and a wood-fired grill that hasn't cooled down in three years. I knew within five minutes this was going to change how I cook.
Cap Karoso isn't a restaurant. It's a hotel on the southern coast of Sumba — one of the most remote islands in Indonesia. The chef who built this kitchen, Mario, has been here four years. He sources everything within 50km. The fish comes from the village. The vegetables come from the garden out back. The spices come from a woman named Ibu Marta who grows them on her family's land.
This is the opposite of The French Laundry. At TFL, we had FedEx deliveries from three countries before 6am. Here, you cook what exists today. If the fishermen didn't go out, there's no fish. If the rain killed the herbs, you adapt.
I'm here for three weeks. The residency starts tomorrow. Fourteen seats, five courses, three nights a week. Everything over fire.
I haven't been this excited about cooking in years.