Beyond the plate: An Indonesian chef-sommelier’s culinary vision

Kaskara Hasibuan reflects on his international career, his pop-up platform Comocasa, and how global training has shaped his approach to cooking and wine.

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Chef and certified sommelier Kaskara Hasibuan holds a wine glass while sitting down in this undated picture. PHOTO: COLLECTED/THE JAKARTA POST

January 12, 2026

JAKARTA – Chef and certified sommelier Kaskara Hasibuan has built an international career spanning kitchens and dining rooms from Jakarta to New York and California’s Napa Valley in the United States, as well as London.

His formal training at the Culinary Institute of America was followed by stints in some of the world’s most exacting kitchens, including the two-Michelin-starred Atomix in New York and the iconic three-Michelin-starred The French Laundry in California. Both are widely regarded among the most demanding restaurants in the world.

Alongside his work on the line, he earned certification from the Court of Master Sommeliers, formalizing a parallel discipline in wine, beverage storytelling and fine-dining service to a rigorously tested international standard.

In 2020, after leaving his studies in political science, he founded Comocasa, a pop-up dining platform that has since staged narrative-driven dinners across Jakarta, London and New York, establishing a distinct voice rooted in discipline, storytelling and hospitality.

Most recently, Kaskara took part in a sold-out six-hands dinner at The Penthouse, The Papilion Kemang, in South Jakarta, cooking alongside fellow internationally trained chefs Ashley Clarise Widjaja and Giangregorio Bartolatta. The event drew a select guest list and showcased a wine program he personally curated, featuring rare and characterful bottles tailored to the Jakarta market.

Against that backdrop, the chef reflects on his international journey and what it means for Indonesia’s next generation of chefs. Below are excerpts.

Question: Your path into food began outside the classic culinary school narrative, and yet you now sit comfortably as an established chef with a track record across several major cities. How do you describe that early decision to leave political science behind and build Comocasa? And looking back, how has Comocasa evolved from a small experiment into a recognized platform?

Answer: It was the path I assumed I’d follow until the pandemic created a pause that let me take cooking seriously. Comocasa began as a small dinner series, but it quickly showed potential. It forced me to decide whether cooking would remain something I loved or become something I took full responsibility for. Within a year, it evolved into a structured pop-up platform with a clear voice. Dinners in New York and London confirmed it wasn’t a side project, but the foundation of my work.

You have moved into some of the world’s most closely watched kitchens, including Atomix and The French Laundry. As an established chef, how do you now see the long-term impact of those years?

Those kitchens didn’t just improve my technical ability; they reset my understanding of professionalism. The intensity and discipline make expectations very clear, very quickly. What stayed with me weren’t specific techniques, but habits: consistency, accountability and clarity under pressure. Those standards are now internal, and they shape how I lead teams and structure work today.

Many chefs visit international restaurants, but relatively few have sustained professional experience inside two- and three-Michelin-starred dining rooms. How has that history influenced the way you design menus in Indonesia today?

Working in those kitchens teaches you to think beyond individual dishes. You start to see cuisine as a system shaped by season, product and intention. Rather than borrowing dishes, I’m inspired by structure. I ground my menus in products that make sense, local or imported, and apply the discipline I learned abroad. The challenge is always making the ideas feel clear and resolved.

Comocasa has now run across multiple global cities. When you bring your work into places like London and New York, what questions do you ask about how Indonesian ideas will be received?

Cities like London and New York are open to new ideas, so I see them as opportunities rather than challenges. The question isn’t whether Indonesian flavors will be accepted, but how clearly they’re expressed. Over time, curiosity has turned into trust, making it easier to present Indonesian ideas without compromise.

Your recognition as a certified sommelier adds another dimension to your profile. Why was it important to formalize your wine knowledge?

Wine began as curiosity, but deepened through mentors who treated it seriously. As a chef and future restaurateur, I see wine as inseparable from the dining experience. Certification gave that knowledge structure and discipline, and collaborators now give me full authority when making decisions for wine and service.

The certification demands deep technical knowledge. How do you integrate that expertise without intimidating guests?

Knowledge only matters if it serves the guest. Most of the technical work happens before service. During the event, it’s about reading the room. Some guests want context, others just want to enjoy the wine. Hospitality always comes first.

At the six-hands dinner at The Papilion Kemang, you curated a wine list featuring distinctive and underrepresented bottles. What message were you trying to send?

The list reflects how far Jakarta has come. There’s now an audience that’s curious and open to exploration when the curation feels intentional. It was a statement of confidence: Jakarta no longer needs to rely only on familiar names to feel credible globally.

You shared the kitchen with Ashley Clarise Widjaja and Giangregorio Bartolatta. What did that collaboration represent for you?

It felt natural. The focus wasn’t on individual expression, but on building something coherent together. The strong response, especially the sell-out, confirmed that the work is connecting in a sustainable way.

The menu structure felt conversational. How did it express your identity as a chef moving between Indonesia and global hubs?

Earlier pop-ups were more experimental. This year has been about refinement, clarifying what already feels honest to me. French foundations with shades of Chinese and Korean influence shape how I cook, and this dinner marked a more deliberate commitment to that direction.

When placing your dishes alongside chefs with strong European pedigrees, what’s your benchmark?

Clarity. If a dish knows what it’s trying to say and is executed with discipline, it belongs, regardless of origin.

From a broader perspective, how do you see your work contributing to Indonesia’s culinary reputation?

Representation happens through consistency, not statements. Delivering serious, thoughtful work shifts perception from novelty to capability. I see this as part of a broader movement, with more Indonesian chefs contributing internationally.

Finally, what kind of legacy are you hoping to build?

I want to build something rooted in depth rather than scale, a fine-dining restaurant that sets clear standards for cooking and hospitality. If the impact lasts, I hope it’s through people. As more chefs return with international experience, Indonesian cuisine can be discussed globally not as a trend, but as a serious, evolving culture.

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