Morning arrives softly in Ubud. Dew settles like crystal on fragrant herbs as dragonflies skim above emerald leaves, while the distant chorus of temple bells drifts through the humid air with the scent of frangipani, wet earth and wood smoke.
Beneath a canopy of tropical foliage, Chef Syrco Bakker begins his day not behind polished marble or gleaming steel, but in the garden.He pauses to inspect a leaf, crushes a sprig of native basil between his fingertips, exchanges quiet greetings with the farmers who know this land by heart, and watches Bali awaken one harvest at a time.
It is an almost cinematic ritual—one that feels less like the opening scene of a celebrated fine dining destination than a forgotten chapter from Eat, Pray, Love, rewritten through the language of flavour, craftsmanship and belonging.
Yet this unassuming sanctuary is precisely where one of the world’s most accomplished chefs has chosen to redefine luxury.Having reached the pinnacle of European gastronomy with two Michelin stars, Bakker could easily have continued refining perfection. Instead, he travelled thousands of miles to embrace uncertainty, exchanging inherited culinary orthodoxy for the restless abundance of Indonesia’s islands.
At SYRCO BASÈ, luxury is measured not by excess but by intimacy: traceable ingredients gathered with reverence, forgotten traditions rediscovered through curiosity, and plates that whisper rather than shout.
In an age intoxicated by spectacle, the restaurant offers something infinitely rarer—stillness, sincerity and an unwavering sense of place. Every course unfolds like an elegant conversation between Bali’s extraordinary biodiversity and Bakker’s disciplined European craftsmanship, dissolving the boundaries between garden and table, memory and modernity, heritage and innovation.This is not merely a destination for dinner. It is an invitation to taste Bali beyond its postcard beauty—to discover an island speaking through leaves, fire, salt, ceremony and soul, one exquisitely restrained, breathtakingly beautiful plate at a time.
Exclusively for EPOULOGUE, Chef Syrco Bakker reflects on his remarkable culinary journey, his decision to establish SYRCO BASÈ on Bali’s fabled Island of the Gods, and his perspective on the meteoric rise of Southeast Asia’s fine dining scene.
Having already attained the highest echelons of European fine dining with two Michelin stars in the Netherlands, what compelled you to leave behind a fully established legacy in favour of beginning anew in Bali — an island whose culinary identity remains, in many ways, resistant to the conventions of Western haute cuisine?
What attracted me to Bali was exactly that it is different from the environment I had spent most of my career in.
In Europe I was fortunate to work at a very high level. We built something I am still incredibly proud of. But after many years in french influenced fine dining, I felt a growing curiosity to learn again and challenge myself in a completely different context.
Bali offered that. Different products, different traditions, different ways of thinking about food and hospitality. Instead of refining something I already knew, I had the opportunity to start exploring again.
I never came here to recreate what I had done in Europe. I came because I felt there was an opportunity to build something new, rooted in this place, while bringing the experience I had gained over the years.
The fact that Bali doesn’t follow the traditional rules of Western fine dining was never a challenge. It was one of the reasons I came.
Your Indonesian heritage appears to sit quietly beneath much of your work rather than announce itself overtly. Has opening Syrco BASÈ become, in some sense, an act of personal excavation as much as a culinary endeavour?In some ways, yes.
Growing up in the Netherlands, I was exposed to Indonesian food through my mother’s side of the family. Many Indonesian dishes and preparations were part of special occasions and family gatherings, so that influence was always there. Looking back, it probably found its way into my cooking more than I realised at the time.
At the same time, my professional career was built in European kitchens. That’s where I learned my craft and developed my style as a chef.
Living in Indonesia has given me the opportunity to explore much deeper. Not only the ingredients, but also the incredible diversity of traditions, products and food cultures across the different islands. Every region has its own identity, techniques and way of thinking about food.
More than anything, it has made me curious. I still feel like I’m learning every day, and that’s one of the things I enjoy most about being here.
There is a noticeable difference between chefs who merely import luxury into Bali and those who genuinely engage with the island’s cultural and agricultural realities. Where do you believe Syrco BASÈ positions itself within that conversation?For us, it starts with the products that are available around us.
We work with local products and to stay as close as possible to what nature gives us. If a product isn’t available because of seasonality, weather or other circumstances, we don’t immediately look elsewhere. We adapt the preparation or work with a different ingredient.
That approach keeps us connected to where we are. First to Bali, and then to Indonesia more broadly.
It’s not always the easiest route, but it often leads to more interesting cooking. It forces creativity and keeps us engaged with the reality of the place we operate in.
Bali today exists at a fascinating crossroads of spirituality, tourism, wellness culture and conspicuous luxury. Do you think the island risks becoming aesthetically seductive yet culturally diluted — particularly through the lens of hospitality and fine dining?
I think that risk always exists when a destination becomes internationally popular.
At the same time, one of the things that continues to impress me about Bali is how strongly people remain connected to their traditions, beliefs and culture. Even as the island develops and modernises, those foundations are still very visible in everyday life.
Of course tourism brings change, and not every development is positive. But I don’t think Bali is losing itself. The cultural identity here is incredibly strong.
For me, the important thing is that businesses and hospitality concepts respect and engage with that reality rather than simply using it as a backdrop.
Indonesian cuisine possesses extraordinary regional depth, yet it remains comparatively underrepresented within the global fine dining canon. Why do you think Indonesia has not achieved the same international culinary visibility as Japan, Thailand or Peru?Part of it comes down to promotion, infrastructure and government support.
Countries like Japan, Thailand and Peru have invested heavily in showcasing their culinary identity internationally. The Indonesian goverment is now becoming much more aware of the strength and uniqueness of its own food culture, and I feel there is growing support to share that story with the world.
The other challenge is the sheer diversity of Indonesia. It’s one country, but every island and region has its own products, traditions and culinary identity. The food in Bali is completely different from what you’ll find in Sumatra, Sulawesi, Java or Papua.
That diversity is one of Indonesia’s greatest strengths, but it also makes it more complex to present a single narrative internationally.
What excites me is that heritage is becoming increasingly important for younger generations of chefs. More people are looking back at local traditions, ingredients and techniques with fresh eyes. I think Indonesia is in a very strong position because there is still so much to discover and share.
Fine dining in Southeast Asia often walks a delicate line between authenticity and performance. How do you ensure Indonesian flavours and traditions are interpreted with integrity rather than transformed into something merely palatable for affluent international diners?
The first step is understanding before interpreting.
We spend a lot of time talking with producers, home cooks, farmers and people who carry traditional knowledge. Not because we want to copy exactly what they do, but because we want to understand where things come from.
Once you understand that, you can start creating something new while still respecting the original context.
We don’t see authenticity as freezing something in time. Food evolves. It always has.
The important thing is that the evolution comes from knowledge and respect rather than convenience or trends.
Your philosophy surrounding Traceability, Nature and Transparency feels almost ideological in an era when “sustainability” has become an overused luxury buzzword. Have you become disillusioned with the performative environmentalism that now permeates parts of the global restaurant industry?The challenge today is that sustainability has become such a broad term that it can mean almost anything.
For us, it became more useful to focus on the values that guide our decisions: Traceability, Nature and Transparency.
Those values influence everything we do. How we source products, how we manage waste, how we develop our team, how we build relationships with producers and how we make decisions with a long-term perspective.
We’re not trying to present ourselves as perfect, and we’re certainly not trying to save the world through a restaurant.
We simply want to operate in a way that reflects our values and make decisions that we believe are responsible over the long term.
Many contemporary tasting menus prioritise spectacle and technical theatre. Do you believe fine dining, internationally, has in some ways lost emotional warmth in its pursuit of perfection?
In some cases, yes.
There is a lot of extraordinary talent in fine dining today. The technical level is incredibly high. But technique alone doesn’t create a memorable experience.
For me, hospitality is still about people. It’s about creating a connection between the guest, the food and the team behind it.
The most memorable meals I’ve had were not necessarily the most complex ones. They were the ones that felt genuine.
Ideally you want both. Great technique and genuine warmth. But if I had to choose one, I would always choose connection.
Bali’s restaurant landscape has evolved rapidly over the past decade, with a growing influx of globally ambitious dining concepts. From your perspective, is the island genuinely developing a mature culinary identity, or is it still largely driven by tourism trends and transient aesthetics?
I think both are happening at the same time.
There are certainly concepts that are built primarily around tourism demand and current trends. That’s part of any growing destination.
But underneath that, there is also something more substantial happening.
There are talented Indonesian chefs, passionate producers and restaurants that are investing in long-term relationships rather than short-term attention.
That kind of development is slower, but it’s also what creates a lasting culinary identity.
Ubud, in particular, attracts visitors seeking wellness, spirituality and escapism. Does that atmosphere create greater creative freedom for a chef, or does it risk encouraging a romanticised fantasy of Bali that restaurants feel pressured to indulge?One of the things I enjoy most about Ubud is the diversity of people it attracts. Guests come here for many different reasons, whether it’s nature, culture, wellness, food or simply to slow down for a few days. That creates a very interesting environment for hospitality and creativity.
At the same time, Ubud has a strong identity of its own. The traditions, the ceremonies, the people and the connection to nature are still very present, and that’s something I continue to admire and learn from.
For us, the focus is not so much on fitting into a particular image of Bali. We try to stay focused on our own vision and values, while being respectful of the place where we are.
What I appreciate most is that many guests arrive with an open mind and a curiosity to discover something new. That gives us the freedom to tell our own story through the food, the producers we work with and the experiences we create.
In the end, we simply try to build a restaurant that feels honest to who we are and to the place we call home.
Your cuisine often appears restrained rather than extravagant. In today’s climate of hyper-visibility and social media-driven dining culture, has subtlety become something of a rebellious gesture?I don’t know if it’s rebellious. For us, it’s simply a natural outcome of how we like to cook.
We try to let ingredients speak for themselves. When the ingredient is interesting enough, it doesn’t need a lot of decoration around it.
Social media naturally rewards things that are visually dramatic. That’s understandable. But our responsibility is still to make decisions based on flavour, seasonality and the experience of the guest.
Sometimes the most interesting thing on a table is also the simplest.
How important is discomfort in the dining experience? Should truly memorable cuisine challenge diners intellectually and emotionally rather than simply provide pleasure?
For me, the first responsibility of a restaurant is to create an enjoyable experience.
People come to spend time together, enjoy tasty food, delicious drinks and good company. If we don’t get that right, nothing else really matters.
I’m not interested in challenging guests for the sake of challenging them.
What I do appreciate is when food can create awareness, curiosity or a new perspective. Maybe a guest learns something about an ingredient, a producer or a way of thinking that they hadn’t considered before.
If that happens, that’s a wonderful bonus. But it should never come at the expense of hospitality or enjoyment.
Indonesia’s younger culinary talents are becoming increasingly ambitious and globally aware. What, in your view, is still lacking structurally within the Indonesian fine dining ecosystem for it to evolve into a truly world-leading gastronomic destination?The talent is absolutely there.
What still needs development is the infrastructure around that talent. Better supplier networks, more educational opportunities, stronger professional development and a broader ecosystem that helps people grow over the long term.
What excites me most is the ambition of the younger generation. There are many talented Indonesian chefs who are eager to learn, improve and create something meaningful.
I also think today’s generation sees possibilities that perhaps weren’t as visible before. More examples are emerging of Indonesian chefs building successful careers and creating restaurants that gain recognition both nationally and internationally.
That visibility is important because it inspires others. It shows young chefs that there is real potential here and that it’s possible to build something significant while remaining connected to Indonesia.
Having worked extensively in Europe before establishing yourself in Bali, do you think Asian fine dining is currently more creatively exciting than its European counterpart — perhaps precisely because it is less burdened by tradition and institutional rigidity?
I think there is a lot of exciting energy across Asia right now.
What makes it particularly interesting is the diversity. Different cultures, ingredients, climates and culinary traditions all exist within relatively close proximity to one another. That creates endless opportunities for learning and inspiration.
At the same time, I have enormous respect for European culinary traditions. There is so much knowledge, craftsmanship, technique and experience built into those cultures.
I don’t see it as a competition between Europe and Asia. I see them as different environments that can learn from one another.
Right now, Asia feels particularly dynamic because many chefs are exploring and defining what contemporary Asian cuisine can become while remaining connected to their own heritage.
Finally, when you consider the future of Syrco BASÈ, do you envision it primarily as a restaurant, or as part of a broader cultural dialogue about heritage, sustainability, identity and the evolving meaning of luxury in contemporary Asia?First and foremost, Syrco BASÈ is a restaurant.
Our main responsibility is to create experiences that people enjoy and want to return to. Everything starts there.
At the same time, every restaurant has ambitions and dreams. We hope that through our work we can inspire people, whether that’s guests, young chefs, producers or other hospitality professionals.
If in ten years people remember Syrco BASÈ as a place they always wanted to experience, or as a place that inspired them in some way, that would make me very proud.
Beyond the food, that’s probably the most meaningful legacy a restaurant can leave behind.
To book ypur exquisite dining experience zt SYRCO BASÉ while spending some time in the majestic Island of the Gods, visit https://syrcobase.com/ today to reservr a table.
*Photos courtesy of SYRCO BASÉ.











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