What People Drink in Surabaya: 6 Traditional Alcoholic Beverages

Surabaya, East Java’s big port, drinks at the crossroads of Java, Madura, Bali, and the eastern islands. Its maritime heat, sugarcane legacy, and migrant communities shape what’s poured in markets, warung, and neighborhood gatherings.

Here, palm-sap ferments meet rice wines and small-batch distillates—some sipped in street stalls, others at Chinese-Indonesian banquets or Balinese eateries. This guide focuses on traditional drinks you’re likely to encounter in Surabaya and how locals enjoy them.

Tuak is a lightly alcoholic palm wine made from the fresh sap of lontar (palmyra) or coconut palms, and it’s the most down-to-earth traditional drink you’ll find around Surabaya. Tappers cut the male inflorescences at dawn, collecting sap in bamboo or plastic containers. Natural yeasts kick off fermentation within hours, producing a 3–8% ABV brew that turns drier and more tart as the day warms. In the glass (often a simple tumbler), tuak is slightly cloudy with aromas of palm sugar, green banana, and yogurt-like tang.

Surabaya’s proximity to Madura—linked by the Suramadu Bridge—means Madurese-run warung tuak appear on the city’s fringes and transport hubs. Fishermen and market workers often drink it late afternoon when the heat softens, pairing it with fried snacks or grilled fish. The dry season favors tapping because sugar concentration rises and wild fermentation is steady. Expect variability: morning tuak tastes sweeter, while evening batches lean sour. It’s a social drink served fast and fresh; ask for "tuak manis" (sweeter) or "tuak asam" (more fermented) to match your preference.

Arak Bali is a traditional distillate typically made by fermenting palm sap (lontar or coconut) or, in some cases, rice, then running the wash through simple pot stills. The clear spirit ranges from about 30–45% ABV, with a mildly fruity, sometimes grassy bouquet and a clean, slightly oily palate. Small-scale producers on Bali often use fire-heated copper or stainless stills; heads and tails cuts influence whether the spirit leans floral or solventy. Recent provincial rules (Bali Governor Regulation No. 1/2020) have helped formalize production and labeling, improving quality and traceability.

In Surabaya, arak Bali shows up at Balinese eateries, contemporary cocktail bars, and specialty shops that stock labeled bottles shipped from Denpasar. Traditional pairings include honey and lime over ice, or simple soda long drinks that tame the heat without masking the spirit’s tropical esters. While Surabaya is not a production center, the city’s role as a trading hub ensures steady availability. For safety and consistency, stick to sealed, branded arak rather than unlabelled street versions, and enjoy it with grilled satay or spicy sambal—fat and heat complement its clean, warm finish.

Brem is a rice-based ferment with two distinct forms: liquid brem wine (common in Bali) and the famous solid brem of Madiun in East Java. For the wine, steamed glutinous rice—often a mix of white and red—ferments with ragi tape (starter cultures of molds and yeasts) before the mash is pressed into a sweet-sour wine, typically 5–12% ABV. Aromas suggest rice pudding, light caramel, and banana ester, with a soft, gently acidic palate. In Bali, brem plays a role in offerings and ceremonies, showing up alongside temple festivities and family celebrations.

Surabaya’s markets and Chinese-Indonesian groceries carry bottled Bali brem, as well as the non-liquid Madiun brem confection—a tangy, melt-in-the-mouth block that hints at its fermented roots. Locals drink brem chilled with seafood or spicy salads, especially during hot evenings when a lower-ABV option is welcome. The city’s humid heat and coastal cuisine pair well with brem’s mellow sweetness and mild acidity. If you’re browsing for a souvenir, compare labels by rice type and residual sugar; drier brem is food-friendly, while sweeter bottles suit dessert or casual sipping.

Javanese arrack is a historic cane-based spirit distilled from molasses fermented with red rice starter cultures that provide wild yeasts and molds. Traditionally double-distilled in pot stills, it sits around 40–50% ABV, pouring clear with a distinctive aroma: grassy molasses, light smoke, and faint tropical fruit. The red rice inoculation helps create a complex, slightly funky ester profile that cocktail bartenders value. On Java’s north coast—today including the Jakarta area—arrack gained renown centuries ago and became a trading staple shipped from major ports.

In Surabaya, a port city with deep sugar and shipping ties, you’ll encounter labeled Javanese arrack in bottle shops and craft-forward bars, sometimes listed by its export name, "Batavia arrack." It’s typically mixed into punches with citrus and spice, or stirred with aged Indonesian sugar syrups to echo colonial-era recipes. Expect a drier, more robust character than rum, with savory hints that stand up to cloves, nutmeg, and coffee. If you’re spirits-curious, try a neat pour first, then compare classic punch builds; the drink’s character changes dramatically with dilution and citrus oils.

Sopi is a traditional distillate from the eastern islands (notably Flores, Alor, and Timor) made by fermenting and then pot-distilling the sap of lontar or aren palms. Depending on the cut and still, it ranges from roughly 30–50% ABV and can be much higher in untamed batches. In the nose, sopi is clean and lightly peppery, with a saline edge; on the palate it’s warming and slightly sweet, sometimes with a mineral snap. Production uses simple metal or bamboo condensers—techniques passed down through families and refined at community level.

Surabaya’s sizable migrant communities from Nusa Tenggara bring sopi into the city for weddings, reunions, and regional food stalls; you may also find properly labeled bottles in specialty shops that import via Kupang. It’s traditionally shared in small glasses during toasts and storytelling, often alongside grilled pork (where culturally appropriate) or chewy cassava snacks. In the tropical heat, people sometimes chase it with cold water or coconut. If you’re buying, prioritize sealed, traceable product; well-made sopi should be clean and gently aromatic, not harsh or overly solventy.

Ang ciu is a Chinese-style rice wine made with red yeast rice (angkak/monascus) that gives it a russet hue and savory depth. Typically clocking in at 14–18% ABV, it’s fermented rather than distilled, with aromas reminiscent of sherry, roasted grains, and dried fruit. While widely used in Peranakan cooking for its umami note, it’s also sipped in small cups at banquets and family gatherings. Some bottles are imported; others are produced in Java using traditional starter cultures similar to ragi tape.

In Surabaya, look for ang ciu around Kembang Jepun (the city’s historic Chinatown) and Chinese-Indonesian restaurants where it accompanies celebratory dishes—think steamed fish with ginger, roast meats, and rich noodle platters. The city’s humid climate and seafood-heavy menus make a lightly chilled pour appealing, balancing salinity with gentle sweetness. If you’re tasting, compare drier, amber-leaning styles versus sweeter, fruitier versions; both pair differently with spice and soy. As with any traditional wine, bottle labeling and provenance matter—choose reputable brands with clear ingredient and alcohol statements.

These drinks reflect Surabaya’s role as a maritime crossroads: palm-sap ferments from Madura and the eastern isles, rice wines from Bali and East Java, and cane spirits tied to the island’s sugar past. To appreciate them, seek fresh, well-sourced pours, ask vendors about origin and method, and match flavors to the city’s seafood and spice-forward cuisine.