On The Table: Truly Madly Deeply

Chef Damian D’Souza does not believe in passion, only madness, but that’s not all there is to it.

IT IS FOUR in the afternoon on a Thursday. The restaurant is on a break before the dinner rush, the floor is getting a light scrub and I’ve just made the chef cry. What felt like an Oprah moment was the answer to the question: “What is your greatest vulnerability?”

I’d hit a nerve. Damian D’Silva – 65, MasterChef Singapore judge and a crusader for Singapore’s food – heaves the heaviest sigh. It reminded him of his late father, whom he felt he’d let down greatly. “For many years after my divorce, I ran away and shut myself from everybody, including my kids. I felt like I’d disappointed my parents. It wasn’t until years later, just before my dad passed, when I asked for his forgiveness and he said that there was nothing to forgive.”

The prodigal son had returned and he’s still here. D’Silva, who spent his years away cooking in Italy and France, came home and brought Europe with him by starting his first restaurant, Citrine Chocolat, in 2000. But as someone who grew up with grandparents who could cook (think Chinese, Malay, Indian, Eurasian and Peranakan), he wanted to shine the spotlight on Singapore’s heritage cuisine, and thus began The Soul Kitchen and until just recently, the now-defunct Restaurant Kin.

He’s currently working on a weekly sharing menu for takeaways (S$160 for four, including delivery), and a casual restaurant that’s scheduled to open in early 2022. For now, he’ll share with us a delicious noodle recipe from his childhood and musings about cooking, madness and humility.

Does cooking keep you young?

Damian D’Silva (DS): Travelling keeps me young. Cooking keeps me going. It keeps my mind ticking.

Would you say that what you’ve done in these past years have well represented the place that you are in now in life?

“My biggest fear is dying too early. What’s

going to happen? Everything in this head

is going to be lost.”

DS: I wouldn’t say I’m not happy, but there’s a lot more to be done. For example, I plan to write a book, and the reason I haven’t written it is that I don’t want to write a book that stays on someone’s shelf. I want it to be something people talk about and use. I want it to eventually become a bible.

Being a guardian of Singapore’s heritage food must be very important to you.

DS: It always has been. People don’t know how much pain I feel when they don’t realise how important it is. It’s who you are and it’s what made us special, whether we are Malay, Chinese, Indian, Peranakan or Eurasian.

Has there been an improvement in the appreciation of Singapore’s heritage food?

DS: It has, but there’s a lot more to go. My biggest fear is dying too early. What’s going to happen? Everything in this head is going to be lost. People tell me I should write it down, but who do I give it to?

Someone!

DS: Who is mad enough with soul? I have a good team, but I haven’t found anyone as mad as me yet. Look at all the artists of the world. What was it that drove them? It’s madness. It wasn’t passion because passion isn’t forever. It’s madness that drives you.

How has your role as a chef changed as you’ve gotten older?

DS: I would say I’ve become a lot humbler. I was a ‘take it or leave it’ kind of person. I’d drive people out of the restaurant for not knowing what they were eating, that they didn’t deserve to eat my food. I’ve also told people who wanted their food served in 10 minutes to go to the McDonald’s across the road. But I’m no longer like that. I’ve become more aware of people’s feelings.

Did the turning point come when someone told you off?

DS: No. Surprisingly, it was because of a frustrated patron. She was with her crying child and her nasi lemak was taking too long to arrive (I always forget how laborious my nasi lemak can be; I soak the rice overnight and steam it four times). But after she ate it, she wrote me a beautiful note, which I still have. It said: “I waited 45 minutes and was so frustrated, but when I ate it, everything made sense. It was the best meal I’d had in a long time and my crying child did not bother me at all.”

What life advice would you give to someone who is successful?

DS: Never forget who you are. Even when you have reached that pinnacle or you’re in the grave, and you think that you’ve done enough, you actually have not. Being humble is important and so is being forgiving. It’s hard to forgive and forget. If you forget, good for you, but forgive first. Let it go.