Surat Ketiga dari Oldham: Idul Adha, Kue Sultan dan Nasi Gurih yang Agak Gagal

Assalamualaikum

Hai, Sahabatku,

(Hi, My Dear Friend,)

Eid Mubarak!

Selamat Hari Raya Idul Adha—taqabbalallahu minna wa minkum. Mohon maaf lahir dan batin, ya. Apa kabar kamu di sana? Bagaimana suasana lebaran? Semoga semuanya baik dan kamu beserta keluarga selalu dalam lindungan dan berkah Allah SWT.

(I Wish you a joyful Eid al-Adha—taqabbalallahu minna wa minkum. May Allah accept our worship and forgive our shortcomings. How are things with you? How’s Eid? I hope all is well and that you and your loved ones are safe and blessed.)

Di surat kali ini, aku ingin berbagi cerita tentang pengalaman merayakan Idul Adha di Oldham. Ini adalah kali kedua aku berlebaran di sini. Meski tak semeriah suasana di kampung halaman, ada saja hal-hal baru yang berkesan.

(I thought I’d write and share a little story about how I celebrated Eid al-Adha here in Oldham. This was my second time spending Eid in this town. It may not be as lively or festive as back home, but there’s always something special to be found.)

Malam takbiran, aku dan suami duduk di dapur menikmati makan malam. Anak kami sudah tertidur sejak sejam sebelumnya. Suasana di luar hening—tak ada gema takbir yang bersahut-sahutan, apalagi pawai mobil berhias lampu warna-warni berbentuk masjid seperti yang biasa aku lihat di rumah. Rasanya bukan malam raya, kalau bukan karena makanan spesial yang tersaji di meja: rendang sapi, bakwan, perkedel, tumis buncis tempe bumbu tauco, bumbu kacang, dan Dubai Chocolate Cheese Cake. Dua yang terakhir kubuat sendiri, sisanya kreasi suami. Alhamdulillah, teamwork!

(The night before Eid, my husband and I were sitting in the kitchen finishing dinner while our little one slept soundly in the next room. Outside, it was completely still—no echoing takbir chants, no parade of cars decorated with mosque-shaped lights like I used to see back home. It didn’t feel like Eid night, if not for the special food on the table: beef rendang, vegetable fritters, potato cakes, sautéed green beans with tempeh in tauco sauce, peanut sauce, and a Dubai Chocolate Cheesecake. I made the last two, and the rest was my husband’s creation. Alhamdulillah—teamwork!)

Ngomong-ngomong soal kue itu, kamu pernah coba? Masih viral banget di sini! Kabarnya rasanya luar biasa enak, tapi harganya... astaghfirullah, bikin dompet megap-megap. Kalau kue biasa dijual seharga £2 per potong, yang ini bisa £5—itu pun di bakery supermarket. Akhirnya, aku putuskan untuk bikin sendiri. Setelah menonton berbagai video di YouTube, aku tertarik pada resep dari seorang chef Arab yang membuka videonya dengan semangat, “Hayya binaa!”

(Speaking of that cake—have you tried it? It’s still super viral here! People say it’s incredibly delicious, but the price… astaghfirullah, it’s wallet-crushing. While regular cakes sell for around £2 a slice, this one can go for £5—even at supermarket bakeries. So, I decided to try making it myself. After watching several YouTube videos, I settled on a recipe from an enthusiastic Arab chef who opened the video with a loud, “Hayya binaa!”)

Menurutku, setelah membuatnya, memang pantas kue ini dijuluki “kue sultan.” Bahan-bahannya mewah: pistachio spread, kunafa, double cream, soft cheese, mascarpone cheese, dan cokelat. Bayangkan kalau kue ini dijual di Indonesia, bisa-bisa harganya tembus satu juta rupiah, tergantung ukurannya. Cara membuatnya pun simpel, tanpa oven, tanpa tepung, tanpa telur—ya, seperti judul video-video di Youtube, kan? Rasanya? Masya Allah... lapisan kunafa yang garing berpadu dengan krim pistachio, krim putih keju manis, dan cokelat hitam di atasnya.

(Honestly, after making it, I totally get why they call this a “sultan’s cake.” The ingredients are luxurious: pistachio spread, kunafa, double cream, soft cheese, mascarpone, and chocolate. Imagine selling that cake in Indonesia—it would easily cost over a million rupiah, depending on the size. And the method? Surprisingly simple—no oven, no flour, no eggs. Sounds like the common title on Youtube, right? The taste? MasyaAllah… the crispy kunafa layer pairs beautifully with the pistachio cream, sweet cheesy white cream, and dark chocolate on top.)

Hasil percobaanku? Sekitar 95% berhasil. Sayangnya, pistachio spread-nya kurang, jadi lapisan kunafa kurang lengket dan agak terurai saat dipotong. Tapi rasanya? Mantap! InsyaAllah, lain kali bisa 100% sempurna.

(How did it turn out? Not bad! A solid 95%. I ran out of pistachio spread, so the base didn’t hold together as well as it should’ve, but the taste? MasyaAllah, truly delicious. I’ll get it perfect next time, inshaAllah.)

Esok paginya, aku berencana membuat nasi gurih. Setelah Subuh, langsung turun ke dapur. Semua bahan sudah siap, termasuk santan, meski dalam bentuk pressed cream. Tapi aku ragu soal takaran beras dan santannya. Dalam kebingungan itu, jadilah nasi gurih yang kebanyakan santan. Nasinya jadi agak lembek, dan cream santannya terasa menggumpal di lidah. Ah, gagal! Tapi masih bisa dimakan, kok. Aku sempat memperbaikinya dengan cara... ah, nggak usah kubahas. Hahaha. Yang penting, nasi itu habis tak bersisa!

(On Eid morning, I planned to make coconut milk rice. After Fajr prayer, I headed to the kitchen with all the ingredients ready—except the coconut cream came in pressed form, and I wasn’t sure how much to use. Long story short, I got the ratio wrong and ended up with rice that was way too creamy. A bit mushy and clumpy. A small fail. But still edible—and somehow, I managed to fix it… don’t ask how. Haha. What matters is, we ate it all!)

Untuk shalat Id, kami memilih ke Masjid EIC (European Islamic Centre) yang mengadakan tiga sesi jamaah: pukul 7, 9, dan 10.15. Ada ceramah dalam bahasa Inggris 20 menit sebelum shalat, lalu khutbah dalam bahasa Arab setelahnya. Kami memilih jamaah terakhir. Rasanya lebih santai—aku bisa beres-beres rumah, anakku pun ikut shalat, dan biasanya teman-temanku juga datang di waktu itu.

(For Eid prayer, we chose to go to the European Islamic Centre (EIC), which held three congregations: 7:00, 9:00, and 10:15 a.m. There’s a 20-minute sermon in English before the prayer, while the khutbah in Arabic is after the prayer. We opted for the last session. It felt more relaxed—I could tidy up the house, my son could join the prayer, and most of my friends usually go at that time too.)

Kami berangkat bertiga, dan alhamdulillah cuaca cerah, tak seperti prediksi sebelumnya. Mendekati masjid, baru terasa suasana lebaran. Orang-orang tampil rapi dan berwarna. Yang dari Pakistan memakai salwar kameez, yang dari Afrika mengenakan bazin. Kalau di di Indonesia aku biasa melihat para perempuan memakai mukena putih. Tapi itu bukan budaya di sini. Semuanya shalat langsung dengan baju hari rayanya. 

(The three of us walked to the mosque, and alhamdulillah, the weather turned out sunny, contrary to the forecast. As we approached the mosque, the Eid atmosphere finally set in. People were dressed up in bright, beautiful clothes. The Pakistanis wore salwar kameez, the Africans in bazin attire. Back home, I was used to seeing women in white praying clothes, but that’s not the custom here. Everyone prays in their Eid clothes—no extra coverings.)

Memasuki masjid, suara takbir menyambut dari pengeras suara. Jamaah laki-laki berada di lantai 1, sedangkan perempuan dan anak-anak di lantai 2. Sebenarnya ada ruang perempuan di bawah, tapi karena jamaah laki-laki ramai, semua diarahkan ke atas.

(Upon entering the mosque, the sound of takbir played through the speakers. Men prayed on the ground floor, while women and children went upstairs. There is a women’s area downstairs too, but because of the large crowd, everyone was directed to the upper floor.)

Nah, jangan dibayangkan semua orang di atas duduk khusyuk bertakbir bersama, ya. Anak-anak berlarian, tertawa dan menjerit riang, menutupi suara takbir. Seperti playground! Tapi inilah yang disebut “children-friendly space.” Seperti saat tarawih, lantai dua memang disediakan untuk ibu-ibu dengan anak-anak di bawah 12 tahun. Ibu bisa shalat, anak-anak bisa tetap bermain—semuanya berada dalam lingkungan masjid.

(Now, don’t picture everyone sitting quietly upstairs reciting takbir. The kids were running around, laughing and squealing with joy, totally drowning out the chants. It was like a playground! But that’s what they call a “child-friendly space.” Just like during tarawih in Ramadan month, the second floor is designated for moms with kids under 12. Moms can pray while their children play—all within the mosque.)

Pukul 9.55, ceramah dimulai. Tapi terus terang, aku tak bisa menangkap isi khutbahnya. Yang jelas hanya kata-kata “Allah” yang sesekali terdengar. Riuhnya tetap tak tertahankan. Tapi ketika shalat dimulai, barulah semua tenang. Alhamdulillah...

(At 9:55 a.m., the sermon began. Honestly, I couldn’t follow what was being said. All I caught were the occasional mentions of “Allah.” The noise was unrelenting. But when the prayer started, everything fell quiet. Alhamdulillah.)

Tata cara shalat Id di sini sedikit berbeda. Rakaat pertama ada lima takbir sebelum Al-Fatihah. Namun di rakaat kedua, takbirnya dilakukan sebelum rukuk. Ada yang bingung, bahkan ada yang sudah rukuk atau sujud saat takbir masih berlangsung.

(The way Eid prayer is performed here is a bit different. The first rak’ah includes five takbir before Al-Fatihah. But in the second rak’ah, the takbir comes just before ruku’. Some people seemed confused—some were already bowing or even prostrating while takbir was still going on!)

Selesai shalat, kami sempat berfoto di halaman masjid. Saat itu hujan rintik-rintik mulai turun, tapi tak lama kemudian langit kembali cerah. Kami pun pulang dan menikmati sarapan, lalu menelpon keluarga di kampung. Alhamdulillah, teknologi bisa mengobati rindu, meski tak bisa menggantikan pelukan.

(After the prayer, we took a few photos outside the mosque. It started to drizzle, but shortly after, the sky cleared up again. We headed home, had breakfast, and called our families back home. Alhamdulillah—technology helps ease the longing, even if it can’t replace a hug.)

Langit masih biru cerah. Aku mencuci baju—mumpung matahari muncul. Saat menjemur, suamiku memberi kabar bahwa landlady kami mengundang kami ke rumah kakaknya. Kami menyiapkan beberapa makanan untuk dibawa: bakwan, boh rom-rom, dan gyoza.

(The skies stayed clear and blue, perfect for laundry! While I hung clothes outside, my husband told me our landlady had invited us to her sister’s house. We quickly packed up some food—fritters, boh rom-rom, and gyoza.)

Meskipun masih kenyang, aku tetap bisa menikmati nasi biryani kambing yang dihidangkan. Ada kambing bakar juga, dan hidangan khas Pakistan lainnya. Setelah cukup lama di sana, kami pulang lewat taman. Kami pikir hanya akan melewatinya saja. Tapi anakku menolak pulang sebelum bermain pasir.

(I was still full from earlier, but I managed to enjoy a plate of lamb biryani, grilled meat, and other Pakistani dishes. On our way home, we passed through the park. However, our son refused to leave without playing in the sand in the park.)

Ngomong-ngomong soal pasir, itu tempat favorit anak-anak sekaligus mimpi buruk orang tua. Aku sering lihat orang tua melarang anaknya main di sana—mungkin karena kotor dan sulit dibersihkan. Apalagi kalau sudah masuk ke rambut!

(Ah yes, the sandpit—a kids’ paradise and a parent’s nightmare. I often see parents stopping their kids from playing there, probably because it’s messy and hard to clean off—especially from hair!)

Pernah aku melihat seorang anak laki-laki usia delapan tahunan, tidur terlentang di pasir, memejamkan mata, lalu menggosokkan pasir ke rambut keritingnya. Ia tampak menikmati sekali, lalu duduk dan menggoyangkan kepala sampai pasirnya rontok. Hahaha! Entah bagaimana nanti bersihinnya.

(One time, I saw a boy about eight years old lying flat on his back, eyes closed, rolling his curly hair into the sand like he was in heaven—then standing up and shaking his head wildly like a puppy. Sand everywhere! I don’t even want to imagine how he would clean that up.)

Anakku? Tak jauh beda. Dia suka berguling-guling, melempar pasir ke mana-mana, bahkan ke... kepalaku! Ya Allah...

(My son? Just the same. Rolling around, flinging sand in the air—right at my head too! Ya Allah…)

Sebelum malam tiba, kami pulang. Aku teringat, beberapa hari lalu buah cherry di taman mulai memerah, banyak yang jatuh. Tapi cherry taman ini kecil-kecil, mungkin untuk burung. Tapi tetap saja aku suka melihat dan mencicipinya. Suamiku juga. Ia bahkan sempat memanjat dan memetik beberapa. Warnanya cantik, merah hati. Rasanya? Alamak... gak jelas.

(Before sunset, we finally went home. I remembered how, a few days earlier, the cherries in the park started turning red, with many already fallen. They’re tiny—not really for eating, more for the birds, I guess. Still, I love seeing and tasting them. So does my husband. He even climbed up and picked a few. They were such a deep, lovely red. The taste? Oh dear, it's hard to explain.)

Begitulah cerita lebaran kami di Oldham tahun ini—sederhana, tapi tetap membawa rasa syukur yang besar. Momen-momen kecil seperti ini mengajarkan bahwa kebahagiaan itu tak harus megah; cukup ada keluarga, hangatnya makanan, dan anak-anak yang tertawa riang.

(And that’s our Eid story in Oldham this year—simple, but filled with gratitude. Moments like these remind us that joy doesn’t have to be grand; it’s enough to have family, warm meals, and children’s laughter.)

Besoknya, hari kembali berjalan seperti biasa. Tapi di sini biasanya ada Eid Festival di taman, lengkap dengan food stalls, permainan, dan hiburan. Tak hanya selama hari tasyrik, dalam sebulan ini selalu saja ada yang mengadakan. Kadang juga ada gathering atau potluck sesama sister di masjid, seperti yang kuhadiri dua hari setelahnya.

(The next day, things went back to normal. But here, Eid celebrations often continue with festivals in the park—food stalls, games, and activities. There are usually gatherings at the mosque too—potlucks, sister circles, and family events.)

Bagaimana lebaranmu di sana? Apa menu lebaranmu kali ini?

(How was your Eid over there? What did you cook this year?)

Salam hangat,

Aku yang sedang merindukan keluarga besarku.

(Warm hugs,

From me, missing my big family dearly.)