Breaking the mould with Kunal

How a Punjabi boy growing up in a household full of bankers went on to become one of India's most decorated celebrity chefs - and his mission of taking Indian food to new heights

He may be a celebrity chef in his own right, but there's none of that 'celebrity' aura hovering above chef Kunal Kapur's presence at Patiala, in Souk al Bahar, a restaurant he now co-owns. The evening I stroll in to meet him, he's in dire need of coffee, and a bit high-strung from a long day in the kitchen. "It's very easy to set up a new restaurant, but it's very difficult to keep one running while you're simultaneously making changes," he says. "But why not just 'shut it down' Gordon Ramsay-style?" I suggest. "What can I say, I'm a bit superstitious. I say if the register is still ringing, don't touch it," he laughs.
Punjab-born, 36-year-old Kunal is in Dubai, giving Patiala a much-needed makeover, but with his own signature twist. And it's something he's invested in, not just monetarily. "I've been on the hunt for a venture outside of India for some time," adding that it's not for want of opportunities - he's had plenty, especially after his long stint on MasterChef India and several other TV shows and a book (A Chef in Every Home) - "but I've only just found the right partner. I wanted to have an Indian restaurant that was my baby, and this is that chance," he says, just as the coffee arrives.
"So why Dubai, and not India?" I ask. "I've been doing restaurants in India all my life... Dubai is the place to be in right now. People here love to eat out and want to eat out." And Kunal is quite amped up about bringing in his level of classic and traditional Indian food that goes beyond the norm of Indian fare that we're so used to seeing and eating - much like what he's been doing on his TV show My Yellow Table. "People haven't seen this kind of food apart from maybe their mom's or grandparents' kitchens. It's different from the chicken tikka and kebabs and naan."

Now, Indian food - and we've said this many times before - is rather hard to put on a menu without it running into a mini-novel of sorts. It's diverse and most places tend to pass off Punjabi food as Indian food, unless otherwise expressly specified. "One of the most difficult things to do is to break the mould that Indian food goes beyond butter chicken and naan. Especially Punjabi food," says Kunal. And he thinks it's no ?coincidence, funnily enough, that Indian food has gotten synonymous with Punjabi food and vice versa. "I don't think that's a bad thing, but it has become a focus the world over, and that means that you need to have paneer tikka, chicken tikka, naan and butter naan, and tandoori chicken on your menu. People haven't moved on from that in India," he says. Basically, if you don't do your butter chicken right, or your dal makhni, and your rotis aren't karak (crisp and hot), then you're not capable of competing in the mass market in India - and there's a lot of competition. "What happens is there's not much room to ?experiment. Even in India, there are restaurants in the metros that are doing some amazing things with Indian food, but if you go outside the metros, it's just dead. You're going to struggle big time unless you do the staples."
Being Punjabi, you'd think that Kunal has foodie genes in his DNA, but his story is actually quite different. "My family is full of bankers," he says. "But I can't do numbers. I just can't. So, although I was expected to go into finance, I took this major detour." Kunal grew up in a joint family in Punjab and was, "fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it," he jokes, the only boy amongst nine cousins - all girls. "I didn't want to play with them, so I found myself with the men in the kitchen. My father used to cook the big family meals, especially on weekends and holidays, so I was in the kitchen with him, along with my uncles. He would upturn an empty plastic tub (like the ones ghee used to come in), which was my seat, and give me a long ladle and get me to stir the curries. He would show me the spices - 'this is elaichi, called cardamom in English', he'd tell me - and explain how the spices needed to be cooked out, or how the meat has to be browned for flavour."
When it was time to head off to college, Kunal says he told his father, reluctantly, that he was just not cut out to be a banker. "He asked me what else I wanted to do, and I had no clue. 'Well, you better figure it out soon, or else.' is what he said to me. I had a friend who was in hotel management at the time. I didn't even know what that was, but I signed up." In a short span of time, he excelled in the kitchen, mostly because all of his father's impromptu cooking lessons had sunk in, he says. He hasn't looked back since.
Kunal was 19 when he got his first gig working in a kitchen. He's been cooking professionally for over 15 years now, and he's all about reviving traditional and classic dishes from Indian cuisine that's largely disappeared from restaurants and, even, some homes. In fact, it has become quite a mission for the MasterChef host. And it all starts with taste. "Of course, presentation is important but, for me, taste is king and presentation is only secondary," he says.
"Indian food, by virtue of the way it is cooked at home, was never meant to be portioned the way, say, European food is. The cultural difference is huge, which shows up in presentation. When food is limited, one way to ensure everyone gets something is to portion, and the other way is to keep everything together so as to say: 'That's it, it's what we have'. So, when you eat together from the same dish, you bond and build respect and trust." He adds that, nowadays, we don't see these same values because we are in a time of abundance. "When food is eaten together, it will always seem enough, and a lot less is wasted. These are important things, which desi cuisine has sidelined in the need to copy Western cooking," says Kunal. "It's sad that Indians are always waiting for somebody to tell them that what they're doing is the right thing."
He's also very keen on vegetarian food and showcasing classic recipes from every corner of India. His favourite? Tinda (an Indian vegetable, also called round gourd). His eyes light up when I mention it - "My mother used to feed it to me when I was a kid," he says nostalgically. "I love vegetarian food more than most people realise, and India has such great vegetarian food. It's so incredibly versatile." He flies into an impassioned account of making fresh turmeric kulfi, and a spinach-based dessert that he swears by, revealing he has quite the sweet tooth.
His other beef is with organic food. "What is it? It's actually what we in India call swastik khaana. It's simple food, fresh, no preservatives and healthy. Sadly, today, we've ruined our own farming techniques in India from greed and malpractice. We were doing 'organic' food much before it became popular," he says. And he laments how eating healthy now costs much more than eating processed foods. "It's shameful that an apple that is plucked from a regular orchard is more expensive than one that is grown on an industrial scale and shipped to supermarkets."
Naturally, another one of Kunal's ongoing goals is to give people that connection to food, that has largely disappeared, back to them, much like one of his biggest influences - Jamie Oliver. "I think what he has done for the home chef is commendable. The way he presents food. he makes it so appealing to cook and eat."
His other favourite chef is the original Indian celebrity chef Sanjeev Kapoor. "Had he not moved out of the kitchen to the TV, we would still have been dealing with a situation where everyone's a cook or a halwai. He lent a sense of pride to becoming a chef. One man glorified the home chef and the other glorified the Indian chef," says Kunal.
Kunal considers himself lucky to have had good teachers in his formative years. "I have had the privilege of learning from some real masters, and you don't find teachers like that. Nobody wants to teach anymore. Everybody just wants to make money. The new generation is also very impatient. They want to do things fast, instead of taking the time to learn things the proper way."
The key to being a good chef, according to Kunal, is attitude. "I remember 7-8 years ago, I had an argument with a head chef. I was far more junior, so when I pointed out that the food he had just sent out wasn't good, he told me to leave the kitchen. I asked him if he would have sent the same food if it were his own family. He would have naturally ensured that they only used the freshest ingredients, and that it tasted very good. It's the same recipe, same chef, but the attitude is completely different. That's what takes your dish from what you want to where it should be," says Kunal. "It's not about how much you know and what ingredients you're using. A simple thing like a tadka dal can be phenomenal, if you do it right and serve it right. Which is why chef-run or chef-managed restaurants do so well - the chefs are involved in every step of the experience." It's why you'll find chef Kunal Kapur hovering in the dining room of Patiala every night. "Until I get my driver's licence, at least," he laughs.
rohit@khaleejtimes.com

• Food and Dining