Latest news with #Semma
Mint
08-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Mint
I really want to cook goat blood curry, says chef Vijay Kumar
Ruth Dsouza Prabhu In an exclusive interview, the James Beard Award 2025 winner talks about his time growing up in the village, catching fish for his mother, struggles to source the right produce, and how the famed snail curry made it to the Semma menu Chef Vijay Kumar; (right) the dish 'nathai pirattal' or stir-fried snails at Semma. Gift this article 'There's no such thing as poor person's food or rich person's food, it is food," said chef Vijay Kumar while accepting the James Beard Foundation Award for the 'Best Chef in New York State' last month. Dressed in a veshti and chunky pearls around his neck, the 44-year-old's speech took over our Instagram feeds, as he unabashedly went on to share his journey 'as a dark-skinned boy from Tamil Nadu" making it to the top, at the awards ceremony that recognises excellence in the culinary arts in the United States. Kumar steers the kitchen at the Michelin-starred restaurant Semma, in New York, where he serves nathai pirattal, a dish of spicy stir-fried snails that his grandmother cooked back home in the village. 'There's no such thing as poor person's food or rich person's food, it is food," said chef Vijay Kumar while accepting the James Beard Foundation Award for the 'Best Chef in New York State' last month. Dressed in a veshti and chunky pearls around his neck, the 44-year-old's speech took over our Instagram feeds, as he unabashedly went on to share his journey 'as a dark-skinned boy from Tamil Nadu" making it to the top, at the awards ceremony that recognises excellence in the culinary arts in the United States. Kumar steers the kitchen at the Michelin-starred restaurant Semma, in New York, where he serves nathai pirattal, a dish of spicy stir-fried snails that his grandmother cooked back home in the village. Kumar was born and raised in a town called Natham in Tamil Nadu, and completed his schooling in Samuthirapatti. An ace student, he wanted to become an engineer. While his father was a government employee, his mother managed the farm. Due to financial constraints, Kumar had to leave the engineering dream behind and follow another passion, and that was cooking, at the State Institute of Hotel Management and Catering Technology in Trichy in 1998. Three years later, he joined Taj Connemara in Chennai followed by a few other stints, until he got an opportunity to head to the US in 2007. Semma is a Tamil slang for 'fantastic', and has been the talk of the food world since it opened in 2021. Reservations are hard to get, and diners from diverse cultural backgrounds are encouraged to eat with their hands. It's not every day that a restaurant attempts to break the stereotypes associated with Indian food in the western world. Dindigul biryani at Semma. The menu reflects Kumar's humble Tamil farmer-family roots, and sticks to the original flavours. Take the snails that he serves with spongy kal dosa. He recalls being nervous in the initial days of serving the dish, but is proud to see how diners enjoy it the way his grandmother made it. More so, because back in school, it was not a dish that he would share with others. He thought it would be made fun of as poor man's food. That escargot was a French delicacy was a revelation much later in culinary school, he says. His face lights up talking about spiced goat intestines, wild rabbit leg, and tiger prawns cooked with a generous dose of green chillies, each a throwback to the times on the farm, and in his family kitchens. Also Read | Disfrutar versus Noma: A tale of two Michelin meals 'I am so sorry to have you working so late," is the first thing Kumar says when he logs in for a Zoom interview. It was 9pm IST, and 11.30am in NYC. The rush of the win was evident as he settled in for a chat. He shares that although celebrations were on, the team had a responsibility, especially now that the queues were longer with over 50 people waiting for a spot at the 12-seater bar in the restaurant. Edited excerpts from the interview: Take us through some of your favourite food memories. Growing up on the farm, we always had fresh ingredients to cook with. We'd grow or raise everything, including goats and chickens for consumption. During school vacations, all the siblings went to our grandparents' place, and since there were no buses, we had to walk three kilometres to get there. We'd go fishing, work in the paddy fields, or go hunting. My memories are all about cooking with fresh ingredients, in clay pots on open fire, and eating on banana leaves. Did you have a favourite dish growing up? My mom's fish curry. She is one of those perfectionists, like most Indian moms. If she buys fish, it has to be freshly caught. Otherwise, it must be fished by us from the river. Nothing else would do. She is picky about her ingredients, and I think I inherited that from her. That's what we are doing right now at Semma — going back to cooking the way I am used to. It was a shift in mindset, from wanting to be an engineer to going to culinary school. How did you cope? From my childhood, I always wanted to do my best at everything. It was a hard transition because one is always afraid of what society thinks. I didn't tell my friends that I was going to culinary school, and when they found out, they made fun of me. I had challenges, growing up in a village, and moving to big cities. My first language was not English, but I adapted. I persevered. So, where did it all begin? I started at a small place in Virginia as soon as I arrived in the US. Then I worked at the restaurant Dosa followed by Rasa in California in 2014, where I got my first Michelin star. Back then I was cooking contemporary Indian food. But I felt something was missing. We were deboning fish and turning down spice levels. I felt we were trying to fit into someone else's mold. I was fortunate enough to meet chef Chintan Pandya and restaurateur Roni Mazumdar of Unapologetic Foods in 2021, and partner with them to open Semma. I was given complete freedom to create the menu, which today represents the Tamil cuisine of my childhood. Tell us everything about the food at Semma. South Indian food is largely associated with idli and dosa, which is sad because it is a cuisine that's been around for thousands of years, and has not diluted with time. I have a responsibility to represent it. When we discussed the nathai pirattal, many were sceptical, but Roni said that it was about what I ate growing up. I didn't want the business to lose money because of such bold decisions, but they (Roni and Chintan) were clear about going ahead and being unapologetic about my roots. Our menu changes regularly. We had a venison curry for a while. Though deer hunting is illegal in India now, I remember going hunting for deer as a child. What I really want to do is make goat blood curry, another delicacy from my childhood, but I haven't had good luck acquiring fresh blood for it. Is there any diner reaction that has stayed with you? It's an incident that is both upsetting and memorable. One day, it was raining heavily and the restaurant was flooded. There was a maintenance issue, and water trickled down from the ceiling. A guest was at the table, and I went across to apologise. He brushed it off saying — 'don't worry about it, just give me an umbrella" — which he held on to and continued eating. For me, this is the power of good food. What is that one meal you turn to when you miss home? Rice and sambar, poriyal and appalam. There is so much emotion in that meal. Also Read | Can 'touchings' be the new tapas? Chef Regi Mathew thinks so Ruth DSouza Prabhu is a features journalist based in Bengaluru. Topics You May Be Interested In
Indian Express
06-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
Chef Vijay Kumar, NYC's best chef, on how snails became his badge of honour
There was a time when a young boy growing up in Natham village, in Dindigul district of Tamil Nadu, would hide his school tiffin. He loved the stir-fried snail curry and the slivers of coconut to go with it, but the rich boys would make fun of him for eating something dug out from the soil, from under a rock or the giant coconut palm leaf squelched by the rain. 'Despite being the school topper, they judged me, belittled me because snails were considered no man's food, they shamed me… for years I carried that shame, fear and anxiety. Now that shame is my badge of honour. Look where the snails got me,' says a teary-eyed chef Vijay Kumar, who has just won the James Beard award for being the best chef in New York. Needless to say, much of the honour, regarded as the food Nobel of sorts, had to do with the chef's signature dish, Nathai PirattalI, the spicy, peppery snail curry from his childhood — humble, grounded, unabashed and unapologetic. The Michelin-starred restaurant, Semma, which he helms, means fantastic in Tamil. It keeps to the tiffin-house look with wooden tables and chairs, wicker lamps and ceilings. 'That's my truth and truth has no colour, it is bare, it will stand strong anywhere… provided you stick to it,' says the 43-year-old, who refuses to be invisibilised and has redefined the contours of the subaltern, upturning it even. 'The food I grew up on, the food made with care, with fire, with soul is now taking the main stage. There is no such thing as a poor person's food or a rich person's food. It's food. It's powerful. And the real luxury is to be able to connect with each other around the dinner table,' he said in his winning speech, proudly wearing a veshti. Vijay's story came under the arclights after The New York Times named Semma as the best restaurant in its annual list of 100 best restaurants for 2025. This is the first time an Indian restaurant has topped the list. This is a metaphor at many levels. He is the quintessential immigrant, who has seized the American dream with his warm, toothy smile, turned the tide of scepticism with his flavours and tossed in his bit of history in a salad bowl. Eleven other immigrant chefs have also won the 'best chef' crown in their zones but Vijay has the heart of NYC. He may have been a societal castaway but has stormed Greenwich Village as its cultural stakeholder. He is the self-made Indian who couldn't afford Ivy League but has been on the grind to raise resources for himself and save up for his family back home. 'I have not been home for the last five years. My parents still live at Natham, my mother still doesn't know what this award means. All she understands is that her son is famous because neighbours and local TV channels have been visiting her. My sister and brother, both state government employees, try explaining but she never understands how the dishes she cooked at home would be such an asset for me,' says Vijay over a Zoom call. His office seems spartan and functional as he pores over the menu. On a typical night, about 1,000 people wait in queue for hours to get a table at the 65-seater restaurant. Reservations open at 7 am every 15 days but are booked by 12 noon. That doesn't stop the walk-ins. Vijay has an easy way of meeting the pressure of expectation, going out for a short drive in the woods hugging New York and listening to Ilaiyaraaja's songs from the '80s. These sensory experiences are from his childhood of which he doesn't have many photographs. 'Making ends meet, we did not have cameras to record our childhood except when we got photographed for IDs,' he says. Vijay grew up in a farmer's family. 'We didn't have big tracts of land, just enough to sustain ourselves. Our parents worked hard to give us an education. Like any kid from our time, I wanted to become an engineer or a doctor,' he says. He was a consistent topper at the Government Higher Secondary School. But scores were not enough to pursue the civil engineering course he wanted. 'In 1998, the course cost between Rs 1 and 2 lakh, which my parents could not afford. I ticked off my second-best skill — cooking. So, I went to the State Institute of Hotel Management and Catering Technology at Tiruchirapalli, where I graduated in 2001,' he says. For Vijay, cooking wasn't so much of a passion; instead it was a life skill. 'I have three other siblings and since my mother worked on a farm, all of us helped her in cooking and chores. But the way my mother rustled up a quick meal for us fascinated me,' he says. So strong is the memory that his mother's after-school snack, sprouted moong with spices (Mulaikattiya Thaniyam) and stir-fried seasonal vegetables (Uzhavar Santhai Poriyal) that grew on their farm are now part of Semma's menu. As are goat intestines or Kudal Varuval, something that the village butcher gave away for free and his mother made into a delicacy for her children. 'Offals were the best protein in our growing up years. A throwaway food is now New York's most wanted,' he says as he serves them with caramelised onions and coconut milk gravy, accompanied by a toddy-fermented dosa. So he never regrets the scarcity that he fought all his life. 'That was a blessing. It taught me not only to survive but think of life's possibilities.' But the real introduction to cooking was when his parents sent him over to his grandparents' during school holidays. 'They lived in a tiny village called Arasampatti near Madurai. We would be sent there to help them. This village had no electricity, no bus service and no roads till about 30 years ago. We had to walk at least 3-4 km on muddy tracks to reach their home. We woke up with the sun and went with our grandparents foraging for snails, hunting deer or fishing. Remember there was no market, no refrigeration, no store. My grandmother would cook fresh vegetables with home-ground spices and aromatics in a mud pot on an open fire pit in the middle of a paddy farm; you could feel the soil breathe. Then she would ladle out the snail curry in tamarind sauce and coconut on banana leaves. The seared venison meat was the perfect example of slow cooking,' he says. Assisting his mother and grandparents, Vijay developed a photographic memory of each stage of cooking. The culinary school just helped him understand the science of food. It was at culinary school that he was first taught about the French delicacy escargot, snails cooked in garlic butter. 'I was pleasantly surprised that a poor man's food in India was a delicacy in France,' says Vijay. That helped him shed his inhibitions about owning his kind of food. That confidence saw him work at Taj Connemara in Chennai, followed by a cruise ship, where he hated the monotony of an assembly line job that seldom allowed any creativity. 'But I had a family to take care of. Then my dad passed away and I came back to be with my family. That's when a friend offered me an opportunity to work in the US,' says Vijay. He worked at Dosa in San Francisco and then at Rasa in the San Francisco Bay Area, where he got his first Michelin star in 2016. Semma now has three. 'These were high volume restaurants, offering South Indian staples in a contemporary manner. But I was not happy cooking with artichokes, asparagus and California vegetables. I just wanted to cook like my mother and grandmother, have a kitchen where I could thrive and not debone the meat but let it melt and glide off the bone instead,' says Vijay, almost recreating his childhood kitchen with animated gestures. He had two choices: do his job, make money and help his family back home or follow his passion, risk his everything and stir up a revolution. It was at this juncture that he was introduced to Roni Mazumdar, CEO of Unapologetic Foods and his partner chef Chintan Pandya, himself a James Beard winner for best chef (2022). For the last few years, the two have been consistently changing the curry-house narrative of Indian cuisine, confined to chicken tikka masala, samosa chaats, saag paneer, gobhi masala and lassi. Nor are they pushing nouvelle cuisine. They are picking up Michelin stars simply because their Indian restaurants present regional cuisine at their purest. 'It is unfair to reduce the food democracy of India into 10-odd recognisable dishes, when we have tens and thousands of recipes to offer to the world. Even South Indian food itself is stereotyped by idli, dosa and sambar. We aren't the cult phenomenon that Italian, Chinese or Japanese cuisine has achieved,' says Vijay, whose underdog story convinced Mazumdar and Pandya that the simple farmer's food from the heart deserved an equal place at the high table. Vijay was hesitant at first. That old fear of being judged, derided and lampooned chipped away at his confidence in the run-up to Semma, which was started in 2021. But once New Yorkers sampled the robust flavours of the hearth, it jogged everybody's memory of where they had come from and the food they grew up with. 'Some guests cried, some blessed me, one of them gave me a little Ganesha statue for good luck. At that moment Semma was not just about food or my story, it became the pot of stories that had never been told by millions,' says Vijay. A confident New Yorker now, Vijay doesn't want to pander to Western sensibilities and taste. 'For far too long, we have bowed down to the preferences of others, tweaked our food to feel accepted and been ashamed to cook the food we would like to eat. Why do we shy away from our spices? They give our food character. Do you see any other cuisine humouring our palate? Will the Italians add more paprika for an Indian? Why then are we expected to do that?,' asks Vijay. He believes being real will always be appreciated and rewarded though he was once told that people might not be willing to pay for his kind of food. 'This is the biggest misconception Indians have. Authentic food will always be prized. Indian food has been overlooked for such a long time only because we are not being who we are. Even the hyperlocal can be global provided it tastes good,' says the chef who is now hoping to present the street food of Chennai and Hyderabad. Before that, there are some speed breakers he has to negotiate, particularly when the immigrant experience is being tested all across the US. Vijay, too, had a turbulent ride in between when two social influencers questioned the Michelin star for Semma, trolling its indigenous food, misspelling dishes and making culturally insensitive remarks. However, Vijay was unperturbed. 'People showed love, voted for me, hugged me and were ready to wait in 100°F (38 °C) heat. No troll can understand this. I choose to be positive and a few people cannot change the multi-cultural matrix that is New York,' he says. Fully aware of the constituency he has carefully built, Vijay never lets the ball drop, beginning his work day at 9.30 am and finishing it at 2 am. 'That's why I am only married to my restaurant,' he says, laughing out loud. While he refuses to divulge anything more about his personal life, he lets us in on one secret. 'I use kalpasi or black stone flower, a very underappreciated spice. Once you cook with it, there's so much flavour and smokiness,' says Vijay. There are many more secrets to be unearthed. But Vijay believes in the Tamil proverb, 'Kadamai sei, palanai etharparathey (Do your duty, don't worry about the result).'
Indian Express
05-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
From Madurai to New York: Meet Semma's chef Vijay Kumar, whose authentic Tamil cuisine is turning heads worldwide
It's not every day that a South Indian restaurant tops The New York Times annual list of New York City's 100 best restaurants, beating the likes of Atomix and Le Bernardin. But Semma, a cozy Tamil restaurant in NYC's Greenwich Village, has done that. The brainchild of Madurai-born chef Vijay Kumar, Semma – a Tamil slang term meaning 'fantastic' – clinched the No. 1 spot in 2025, just four years after its debut in 2021. Semma was on No. 7 on the same list last year. In a world where Indian cuisine is finally receiving its long-overdue global recognition, Semma's rise feels personal and symbolic. 'It's an incredible honour, especially for a restaurant honouring food from the villages of South India,' said Vijay, 44, in an exclusive interview with 'But it's also validation that our cuisine, in its truest form, belongs on the world stage.' Growing up on a farm near Madurai, Vijay learned to cook by watching and helping his mother and grandmother in the kitchen. After culinary school and stints at Indian hotels and cruise ships, he moved to the United States, where he led kitchens at Dosa and Rasa in California. In 2021, he relocated to New York to open Semma. His mission was clear: to serve regional, heritage dishes rarely seen on restaurant menus. Some of these are eral thokku, nathai pirattal, and thinai khichdi. 'The nathai pirattal is something you won't find anywhere else. It's a true village dish, one I grew up eating,' he said. His New York move came with a partnership with restaurateur Roni Mazumdar and chef Chintan Pandya of Unapologetic Foods. 'They asked me one simple thing: to cook the food that lives in your bones. That became Semma, a place to celebrate the bold, soulful dishes I grew up eating, without watering anything down,' said Vijay. That philosophy paid off. In addition to Semma's recent top ranking, he won the prestigious 2025 James Beard Award for Best Chef: New York State, often dubbed the 'Oscars of the food world'. A champion of hyper-local and seasonal ingredients, Vijay said he is driven by what's deeply tied to the land and the people. 'I want to explore more native ingredients that haven't had their moment yet, and find ways to bring them to the global table,' he said. What's making Indian chefs and restaurateurs succeed and take risks on the world stage? According to Chef Vijay, it's the refusal to dilute or compromise: 'Nothing is adjusted to 'play it safe'. It's bold, rooted, and deeply personal.' 'For a long time, Indian chefs felt pressure to soften or simplify our food to fit expectations,' he said. 'Now, we're cooking loudly and with pride. The innovation comes from looking inward, at our own traditions, and presenting them unapologetically.' What's next for Semma? Vijay is clear: 'To keep digging deeper into regional recipes, forgotten techniques, and the stories behind them. And to keep evolving without losing what makes Semma special—honest South Indian food, cooked with heart.' Jayashree Narayanan writes on fitness, health, aviation safety, food, culture and everything lifestyle. She is an alumnus of AJKMCRC, Jamia Millia Islamia and Kamala Nehru College, University of Delhi ... Read More
Time of India
04-07-2025
- Business
- Time of India
Cooking Up a Storm: Desi Chefs Spice up the Big Apple
Tired of too many ads? Remove Ads Tired of too many ads? Remove Ads Tired of too many ads? Remove Ads At 7:30 on a sweltering summer evening in New York City, the Garment District is winding down. The frantic activity of the Big Apple 's fashion hub gives way to a quieter time of day. But the air still hums with the excitement of secrets to be revealed. Times Square is to the north with its bright lights and heaving crowds, while the Empire State Building is unmissable, awash with colour from the lights. The mannequins in the shop windows, draped in sequined fabric, seem glimmeringly sentient. Tucked away on West 37th Street, a storefront announces Chatti in a flamboyant italic script and, in smaller but no less confident font, By Regi is the celebrated Indian chef's toddy shop-inspired, Kerala-style kitchen. And it's part of a wave. New York is in the throes of a spice-sprinkled gourmet glasnost that is unapologetically city's Indian food scene used to be split, only half-jokingly, into butter chicken for the masses, molecular gastronomy for the those extremes lay an arid vacuum. The ground has shifted with a bunch of intrepid, creative chefs serving Indian food that's uncompromisingly hyperlocal and high concept to NYC. Diners can't get enough of it. And the food critics, powerful enough to make or break restaurants in this part of the world, are the first time in its nearly century long history, the New York Times anointed an Indian restaurant—Semma—as No. 1 in its Top 100 Restaurants in NYC South Indian fine-dining destination, helmed by chef Vijay Kumar (formerly of California's Michelin-starred Rasa) and backed by restaurateurs Roni Mazumdar and Chintan Pandya of Unapologetic Foods, has emerged as an unmistakable disruptor in fine dining. Alongside Semma, several other Indian restaurants made it to the Times' Top 100, including Dhamaka, known for its fiery, rustic menu from the Indian hinterlands; Masalawala undefined Bungalow , a newer entrant from celebrity chef Vikas Khanna blending artful plating with deep-rooted Punjabi flavours; and Dera, a Jackson Heights staple offering a rich blend of Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi Foods is at the heart of this spice-splashed revolution. Pandya has also won the much sought-after James Beard prize for chefs. Most importantly, their growing empire—Semma, Dhamaka, Adda, Masalawala & Sons and Rowdy Rooster—doesn't pander to Western palates. Dhamaka and Semma are booked months in advance. Diners are lucky if they can snag a reservation on Resy.'The Indian food scene right now is as exciting as it's ever been in New York City,' says veteran food writer Andrea Strong. 'And that's in large part because of Chintan and Roni and Vijay.'Bungalow is Vikas Khanna's most personal offering to date.'This is my last restaurant,' he says, a culinary venture that caps off a 41-year career. 'New York is not an easy restaurant space, of course; it's the greatest, and it's also the toughest.'With Bungalow, he's reclaiming memory, an ode to what his late sister told him after admonishing him for 'chasing lists.''I have so many failed businesses where I could not break the code,' he says, but Bungalow is his York has had great South Asian food for quite some time, says Ryan Sutton, a food critic who has spent over two decades writing about food for Eater and now publishes The Lo Times. 'I remember going to a wedding at the original Junoon about a decade ago—probably the best wedding food I've ever had.'There was also Hemant Mathur's now-closed Tulsi, which had a Michelin star, like Junoon. 'And of course Indian Accent rolled into town a while back, and that venue (like the late Floyd Cardoz's shuttered Tabla) proved that New Yorkers were willing to pay a serious premium for really good South Asian fare,' remembers Sutton. But admittedly, what's going on is more exciting than just trendy amuse Chatti, the room is filling up fast. Within the hour, it's packed—tables claimed, voices rising in a familiar rhythm. For a moment, it doesn't feel like New York anymore.'For so long, people only knew one kind of Indian food,' says Mathew. 'People become like a community… good food in smaller portions. Now, they're discovering the flavours of Kerala. They're discovering our stories.'Stories that—until a few years back—weren't an option in the fine dining circuit of New York's food scene. These ideas were mostly pushed to the confines of the immigrant-reliant borough of Queens.'What's happening is not a trend,' says Pandya, who fired up the kitchen at Dhamaka, listed as a Michelin Bib Gourmand restaurant. 'I think it took a lot of crazy steps, almost, that didn't make logical or business sense for us to arrive at this point, and those were the breakthroughs that we needed.'What is happening differently with Indian food, and specifically in their restaurants, is that they are serving the real thing. 'Food we've been cooking for a long time—at our households, at our events—but it was never represented,' says March 2017, common friends had introduced Mazumdar and Pandya to each other. Pandya says Mazumdar was 'a crazy entrepreneur' who wanted someone to partner with.'We knew one thing—our cuisine needed a radical shift,' Mazumdar says. 'Chintan had spent his whole career in fine dining. I came in with a disruptive mindset. That's where we connected. We didn't have a white paper or a protocol.'It was uncharted territory. Indian food had never really worked in this city. 'So we asked, what do we do about it?'Whether that meant serving gurda kapoora (goat kidney and testicles) or refusing to do takeout at the pandemic-born Dhamaka.'The very first time when you open the lid of a freshly cooked dish and that steam comes out—that's a dhamaka,' Pandya says. 'I cannot recreate that in a plastic container.'Currently, Semma is what every Indian wants to talk about. Kumar has taken the city by storm, given that it's unprecedented for a Tamil food-centric restaurant to get a Michelin Kumar wasn't hired to build Semma. He had written to Mazumdar when Rahi launched, saying he would love to join them he finally joined the kitchen at Rahi, his dishes stood out. At that point, Mazumdar said if they end up serving this, they would end up confusing Rahi's core consumers. So Semma was born. Rahi has since closed.'Semma showcases Tamil Nadu. Masalawala brings Kolkata. Dhamaka brought offal. This isn't about fusion or elevation. It's about recognition,' says says: 'The food is spicy, it's loud, it's rowdy, and it's fun. There's an energy to it that's similar to what you'd find in Bombay or Calcutta.'Unapologetic Foods is planning to open an Adda in Philadelphia and a fast-casual Kababwala in NYC by the end of this at Chatti, Mathew is busy attending to guests at every table—explaining toddy shop culture. Khanna says there are nights he sees scores waiting outside. 'They're just coming as a part of a pilgrimage. Agar restaurant ye create kar sakta hai, it means there's so much more.'For the first time, Indian food in New York isn't whispering. It's making noise—and it's not asking for permission. It's unapologetically Indian.
Economic Times
03-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Economic Times
Semma to Chatti and Bungalow: Desi restaurants in Big Apple do a Dhamaka
Indian restaurants in New York are going unapologetically hyperlocal New York: At 7:30 on a sweltering summer evening in New York City, the Garment District is winding down. The frantic activity of the Big Apple's fashion hub gives way to a quieter time of day. But the air still hums with the excitement of secrets to be revealed. Times Square is to the north with its bright lights and heaving crowds, while the Empire State Building is unmissable, awash with colour from the lights. The mannequins in the shop windows, draped in sequined fabric, seem glimmeringly sentient. Tucked away on West 37th Street, a storefront announces Chatti in a flamboyant italic script and, in smaller but no less confident font, By Regi is the celebrated Indian chef's toddy shop-inspired, Kerala-style kitchen. And it's part of a wave. New York is in the throes of a spice-sprinkled gourmet glasnost that is unapologetically city's Indian food scene used to be split, only half-jokingly, into butter chicken for the masses, molecular gastronomy for the those extremes lay an arid vacuum. The ground has shifted with a bunch of intrepid, creative chefs serving Indian food that's uncompromisingly hyperlocal and high concept to NYC. Diners can't get enough of it. And the food critics, powerful enough to make or break restaurants in this part of the world, are the first time in its nearly century long history, the New York Times anointed an Indian restaurant—Semma—as No. 1 in its Top 100 Restaurants in NYC list. The South Indian fine-dining destination, helmed by chef Vijay Kumar (formerly of California's Michelin-starred Rasa) and backed by restaurateurs Roni Mazumdar and Chintan Pandya of Unapologetic Foods, has emerged as an unmistakable disruptor in fine dining. Alongside Semma, several other Indian restaurants made it to the Times' Top 100, including Dhamaka, known for its fiery, rustic menu from the Indian hinterlands; Masalawala & Sons, a nostalgic tribute to Bengali home cooking; Bungalow, a newer entrant from celebrity chef Vikas Khanna blending artful plating with deep-rooted Punjabi flavours; and Dera, a Jackson Heights staple offering a rich blend of Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi Foods is at the heart of this spice-splashed revolution. Pandya has also won the much sought-after James Beard prize for chefs. Most importantly, their growing empire—Semma, Dhamaka, Adda, Masalawala & Sons and Rowdy Rooster—doesn't pander to Western palates. Dhamaka and Semma are booked months in advance. Diners are lucky if they can snag a reservation on Resy.'The Indian food scene right now is as exciting as it's ever been in New York City,' says veteran food writer Andrea Strong. 'And that's in large part because of Chintan and Roni and Vijay.'Bungalow is Vikas Khanna's most personal offering to date.'This is my last restaurant,' he says, a culinary venture that caps off a 41-year career. 'New York is not an easy restaurant space, of course; it's the greatest, and it's also the toughest.'With Bungalow, he's reclaiming memory, an ode to what his late sister told him after admonishing him for 'chasing lists.''I have so many failed businesses where I could not break the code,' he says, but Bungalow is his homecoming. New York has had great South Asian food for quite some time, says Ryan Sutton, a food critic who has spent over two decades writing about food for Eater and now publishes The Lo Times. 'I remember going to a wedding at the original Junoon about a decade ago—probably the best wedding food I've ever had.' There was also Hemant Mathur's now-closed Tulsi, which had a Michelin star, like Junoon. 'And of course Indian Accent rolled into town a while back, and that venue (like the late Floyd Cardoz's shuttered Tabla) proved that New Yorkers were willing to pay a serious premium for really good South Asian fare,' remembers Sutton. But admittedly, what's going on is more exciting than just trendy amuse bouche. Inside Chatti, the room is filling up fast. Within the hour, it's packed—tables claimed, voices rising in a familiar rhythm. For a moment, it doesn't feel like New York anymore.'For so long, people only knew one kind of Indian food,' says Mathew. 'People become like a community… good food in smaller portions. Now, they're discovering the flavours of Kerala. They're discovering our stories.'Stories that—until a few years back—weren't an option in the fine dining circuit of New York's food scene. These ideas were mostly pushed to the confines of the immigrant-reliant borough of Queens.'What's happening is not a trend,' says Pandya, who fired up the kitchen at Dhamaka, listed as a Michelin Bib Gourmand restaurant. 'I think it took a lot of crazy steps, almost, that didn't make logical or business sense for us to arrive at this point, and those were the breakthroughs that we needed.'What is happening differently with Indian food, and specifically in their restaurants, is that they are serving the real thing. 'Food we've been cooking for a long time—at our households, at our events—but it was never represented,' says March 2017, common friends had introduced Mazumdar and Pandya to each other. Pandya says Mazumdar was 'a crazy entrepreneur' who wanted someone to partner with.'We knew one thing—our cuisine needed a radical shift,' Mazumdar says. 'Chintan had spent his whole career in fine dining. I came in with a disruptive mindset. That's where we connected. We didn't have a white paper or a protocol.'It was uncharted territory. Indian food had never really worked in this city. 'So we asked, what do we do about it?'Whether that meant serving gurda kapoora (goat kidney and testicles) or refusing to do takeout at the pandemic-born Dhamaka.'The very first time when you open the lid of a freshly cooked dish and that steam comes out—that's a dhamaka,' Pandya says. 'I cannot recreate that in a plastic container.'Currently, Semma is what every Indian wants to talk about. Kumar has taken the city by storm, given that it's unprecedented for a Tamil food-centric restaurant to get a Michelin Kumar wasn't hired to build Semma. He had written to Mazumdar when Rahi launched, saying he would love to join them he finally joined the kitchen at Rahi, his dishes stood out. At that point, Mazumdar said if they end up serving this, they would end up confusing Rahi's core consumers. So Semma was born. Rahi has since closed.'Semma showcases Tamil Nadu. Masalawala brings Kolkata. Dhamaka brought offal. This isn't about fusion or elevation. It's about recognition,' says says: 'The food is spicy, it's loud, it's rowdy, and it's fun. There's an energy to it that's similar to what you'd find in Bombay or Calcutta.'Unapologetic Foods is planning to open an Adda in Philadelphia and a fast-casual Kababwala in NYC by the end of this at Chatti, Mathew is busy attending to guests at every table—explaining toddy shop culture. Khanna says there are nights he sees scores waiting outside. 'They're just coming as a part of a pilgrimage. Agar restaurant ye create kar sakta hai, it means there's so much more.'For the first time, Indian food in New York isn't whispering. It's making noise—and it's not asking for permission. It's unapologetically Indian.
