Vlog — Sore hari. Tiba pertama kali di Bekasi, hawa hangat berembun, dengung kota. Kamera genggam menyorot Lukas, tersenyum, jet lag namun tetap ceria.

“Hey guys, Lukas here. Forest boy from Black Forest, Germany—where the loudest sound is a cuckoo clock and bread rises in complete silence. I finally made it to… Bekasi.”

Ia menggeser kamera ke fasad elegan di ujung blok—kaca doff, huruf perunggu—lalu kembali ke senyumnya.

“Not Bali—yet. Bekasi first. I’ll explain. Long story, sweet marinade.”

Ia mengetuk lensa dengan ujung jari—potongan keras.
Satu minggu sebelumnya — Flashback (Zoom & call)
Ponsel di mode pengeras suara.

AJI (teman, terkekeh): “Bro, you wanted kitchens, not postcards, right? I have a lead. Fine-dining spot in Bekasi, in my country, Expat executives. They need a pro who can lead a station next week.”

LUKAS: “Next week? That’s… deliciously organized.”

RAKA: “Head Chef can Zoom in ten. HR too. And hey—didn’t your grandma have cousins there?”

LUKAS (menyeringai): “She did. Heritage tour meets employment. Let’s do it.”

Cut: laptop terbuka, ruang tunggu Zoom. Gulungan pisau di sampingnya. Panggilan tersambung.

HR (tenang, presisi): “Good evening, Mr. Lukas Wiratama?”

LUKAS: “Evening. Lukas is perfect.”

HEAD CHEF (singkat, lugas): “We run an exclusive floor—executive clients. No phones in the kitchen, no filming, strict NDA. Okay?”

LUKAS: “Respectfully, yes. I don’t film mass or uppercuts—kitchens are both.”

HR: “Your résumé says: IHK culinary apprenticeship, HACCP, allergen management, and three years at a five-star property in Europe. True and current?”

LUKAS: “All current. HACCP renewal last year. I can send certificates and two references tonight.”

HEAD CHEF: “Scenario: guest wants satay with peanut sauce; claims ‘mild allergy to nuts but I’ll be fine.’ What do you do?”

LUKAS: “I refuse peanut components, offer a sesame-galangal glaze that mimics the body without allergens. Separate utensils, fresh board, fresh oil. I also inform the service to note it on the chit.”

HEAD CHEF: “Good. Cross-contamination?”

LUKAS: “Colored boards, sanitizing between tasks, separate fryer. Allergen mise en place in sealed pans. Chef signs off.”

HR: “Grooming: short nails, no jewelry on the line, hair controlled. You bring your own knife roll?”

LUKAS (menunjukkan gulungan pisaunya): “Yes, maintained at 20°C bevel. I label and lock.”

HEAD CHEF: “Service speed?”

LUKAS: “On grill or sauté, six covers solo, twelve paired. I call my own tickets if needed. I can adjust to your cadence.”

HR: “Bahasa Indonesia?”

LUKAS (beralih ringan): “Sedikit. Cukup untuk dapur—‘angkat, plating, panas, hati-hati.’ Saya mampu belajar cepat.”

HEAD CHEF (sekilas senyum): “We’ll test that.”

HR: “Shifts rotate. Probation three months. Tip pool shared to BOH. Leftover food cannot be taken home—brand policy. We discard or donate through approved channels only. Agree?”

LUKAS (matanya sempat bergetar, lalu kembali mantap): “I agree. And if approved channels need extra hands, I’ll help after shift.”

HEAD CHEF: “Start date one week from today. Uniform pickup Monday 09:00. Black non-slip shoes. Briefing at 10:00, lunch service at 12:00. Can you be here?”

LUKAS: “Yes, Chef.”

HR: “We’ll handle your paperwork sponsorship. Bring passport and existing permits. Any questions?”

LUKAS: “Just one. House salt—fine or flaky?”

HEAD CHEF: “Both. We season, not hide.”

LUKAS: “Then we’ll get along.”

Zoom berakhir. Ia mengembuskan napas—tersenyum.

“Funny thing—people think I cook because I’m trained. Truth is, I started because I never really had ‘home food.’

Kembali ke saat ini — meneruskan Vlog kedatangan

“Okay, everyone. Not Bali—better, a kitchen with rules, heat, and a Head chef who seasons like he means it. I vlog before and after shifts only. Inside, we work. Outside, I’ll tell you the jokes the city tells me first.”

Ia mengangkat gulungan pisaunya seperti mengangkat gelas untuk bersulang.

“To Bekasi. Surprise me—nicely.”

Ia meraih untuk menghentikan rekaman, lalu menoleh lagi sambil menyeringai.

“Tomorrow, uniform, briefing, lunch service. Wish my shoes luck.”

Mata Lukas terpejam. Ada bayangan samar: seorang nenek berambut perak, di dapur kecil, mengaduk nasi hangat.

OMA (dari ingatan, lembut tapi tegas): “Lukas… makan dulu. Nasi harus dicium, bukan cuma dimakan.”

Lukas menarik napas panjang, seolah mencium aroma yang hanya ada di kepalanya. Matanya sedikit berkaca.

“My Parents never did that. Microwave dinners never hugged me. Only Oma’s sambal… could shut me up and make the world quiet.”

Gambar bayangan hilang. Lukas membuka mata, senyum getir muncul.

“She’s gone. But the taste—maybe I can still chase it. Maybe here, in her country.”

***