Smokin’ HAUTE
FINE FOOD TAKES CENTRESTAGE AS PALATES BECOME ADVENTUROUS, PLATES PRETTY AND TASTES EVEN PRETTIER STILL, CLAIMS CHEF MANU CHANDRA
When it comes to dining out, opinions are almost as varied as the number of dishes available in any given town or city. Clearly, what is fine dining to some may be narrow and predictable to others; what may be genuinely great cuisine served with pomp and flourish can appear stuffy and un necessary by many.
Over the years, the popular mindset in India—read, a very large number of prospective diners—came to regard the finer establishments as either overhyped or inaccessible. On the flip side, well aware that takers were few, no more than a handful of places bothered about pushing the envelope with food, experiences and spaces. This was especially true in the standalone space, where even the pioneering restaurants had to resort to populist tactics to be able to fill seats.
About four years ago, there began a slow and much-needed change in the popular outlook, for a number of reasons. First, both wealth-generation and disposable incomes saw an upward trend; we also saw a bunch of repats make India their home again, seeking replication of the inclusive dining experiences offered by serious restaurants abroad; websites like Zomato, Burrp, food blogs, YouTube made word of mouth take on an altogether new meaning; and the fourth factor—and the most ironic, in my opinion—was the advent of the uber-sexy TV shows that revolved around chefs, cooking competitions and high adrenaline situations, which transfixed the whole world.
It suddenly became apparent that restaurants were a hot bed for the most entertaining action, and chefs a breed unto themselves. What also came through were the pains that went into creating fine food. Earlier taken for granted or scoffed at for being utterly pretentious, fine food suddenly took centrestage as people began to appreciate that making that plate look pretty, taste prettier and hit all the right buttons was no child’s play.
Not only did this bring about a change among the clientele, it also triggered a shift in the perspective of the backroom boys in restaurants and kitchens. Judging a competition not so long ago, I was amazed at the readiness with which budding chefs embraced a number of modernist techniques. Almost every plate showcased a foam, a gel, a stabiliser or some form of nouveau cooking principle. In most cases, though, I found the applications a tad premature: ‘new’ in cooking and dining, while good in theory, needs to built on solid kitchen basics, which were largely missing.
In the professional realm, I believe competent cooking, executed well, presented nicely and with some fun thrown in for good measure, is the ticket to the future. That is precisely the approach of a bunch of new places: The Table and Ellipsis, both in Mumbai; Indian Accent, Tres and Chez Nini and Café Lotta in Delhi; Bohemia in Kolkata and Caperberry, Grasshopper, Monkey Bar and Likethatonly in Bangalore (disclaimer: I own the last two) all follow this philosophy.
It involves ushering people right into their comfort
zones, but building on what they may think of as comfort food. I wasn’t surprised to find Manish Mehrotra, chef at the acclaimed restaurant Indian Accent, agreeing wholeheartedly with the back-to-basics approach. Skill and innovation, he says, can really take the most ubiquitous of ‘comfort’ dishes to the realm of fine dining. He’s planning to transform the good, old-fashioned toor daal khichdi into a show-stealer in his winter menu. Jeera aloo, he warns, maybe next!
Experiments of this nature already abound on the Indian restaurant scene. By reinventing a classic like a tiramisu with tableside liquid nitrogen (Caperberry), stuffing kheema—instead of sweet pork—into a steamed bao and serving it with paya soup (Monkey Bar), these places are putting the focus squarely back on the most basic of diningout pleasures: flavour!
Though some diners still associate a good meal with massive visual impact—think vertical plating or giant birds carved out of vegetables—I can see a lot of chefs putting that trend behind them and introducing eye-oomph in other ways. At Masala Library, a restaurant opened recently in Mumbai by Zorawar Kalra, son of the legendary protector of Indian recipes Jiggs Kalra, the chaat arrives on tiny rickshaws, and paapad and chutneys are served almost Tapas-style, showcasing freshness, colour, variety and novelty. It’s a welcome digression from the plush-and-predictable standards of Indian dining, and hence more approachable.
On the other hand, Royal Vega, at the rather grand ITC Chola in Chennai takes vegetarian dining—usually the province of the neighbourhood Darshini—and dresses it up lavishly in an opulent setting. It’s a win-win for both sides, since the customer is getting something he never had, yet always craved. Old friend and the diva of Italian khaana in India, Ritu Dalmia, feels that while the Indian fine-diner would probably never give up pomp, he now seeks a higher comfort quotient. “The whole fine dining scene is being deformalised. How nice is that!”
If 65 per cent of the population of our country is below the age of 35, it’s safe to assume that that statistic is applicable to the urban centres and consequently to the F&B establishments’ footfalls as well. Despite liquor being a tightly regulated and heavily taxed commodity by the governments, it’s clear that young India enjoys its drinks. Innovation at the bar has now become as important as innovation in the kitchen. People like to be wowed with their tipples, and it’s already progressed beyond the whisky and syrupy sweet cocktails. Not just Likethatonly’s smoked Bloody Mary, a number of places are making genuine efforts to create or execute refreshing and even complex cocktails, run a good wine programme and list a variety that lends credibility to a beverage menu.
Good design, pleasing environs and, of course, some well-thought out music seal the rest of the deal. This is precisely what we had been seeking so desperately. We’ve finally reached a stage where we can proudly show off our restaurants, and not reminisce about “that place” on our last trip abroad. In short, we’ve almost arrived!