Rehydrated wakame, moss-green daikon, amber mirin, clear sake, pungent Kikkoman. Chef Farrokh Khambata calls out the Japanese words—for varieties of seaweed, radish, rice vinegar, wine and extra-fermented soy sauce, respectively—as he adds them to butterflied prawns, pearly lobster and tendrils of beet and radish.
The chant of names is poetic, evoking memories of dearly loved haiku. But it’s when the chef sprinkles rust-red shavings over all the ingredients that his Sunomono Salad begins to seem truly exotic.
‘‘Kachopuchi,’’ Khambata, the stolid owner of Joss in Kala Ghoda, But relenting, and with a soupçon of a smile, he explains the kachopuchi is ‘‘very, very tender’’. Its ‘‘iodine’’ taste, he adds, lends to the vegetables ‘‘the flavour of the sea’’.
What Goes In He identifies two reasons for the trend: First, the well-heeled, well-travelled Indian diner doggedly seeks out the new and is keen to experiment. ‘‘They go to Italy, they go to France. They are very, very knowledgeable,’’ he says. ‘‘A layman can tell you risotto rice is arborio.’’
Secondly, he continues, restaurants seek to ‘‘be different’’, especially in metros where they may easily have 400 to 500 rivals.
‘‘It has a mild aroma, rather than a flavour, that gives a different, new dimension to the food,’’ says Dubey, corporate chef of Speciality Restaurants Private Ltd. ‘‘Nothing compares. It’s a there-and-not-there kind of feeling.’’
Like Saha, Dubey says innovative ingredients make his guests feel special.
‘‘They feel good because they are consuming something they don’t get anywhere else,’’ he explains.
To this end, restaurants are trying another tactic—using fairly ordinary ingredients in atypical ways.
Vinegar in a milk-based dessert? It’s a curdling thought, except if your silver is sinking into the creamy Pannacota with Balsamic and Blueberry Reduction at Zenzi in Bandra, Mumbai.
Sous chef Cyrus Irani says the balsamic vinegar lends a ‘‘spicy taste’’ to a ‘‘very sweet’’ vanilla-flavoured dessert.
In New Delhi, chef John Evans at Jaypee Vasant Continental makes a Caramelised Crème Brûlée garnished with paan (betel) leaves. Joss’ dessert attractions include Chocolate Sushi with Wasabi (Japanese horseradish) Dip, while Frangipani offers a Mango and Jalapeno (Mexican chilli pepper) Mousse.
While Saha says experimentation is fine, he cautions that the basics are the food.
Tomato soup flavoured with sandal powder may have a certain snob appeal, he says, but ‘‘a lot of people forget how to make a basic tomato soup’’. They were right, we were wrong. As usual.
Chef Vikas Sethi of Rain in Juhu, Mumbai, ‘paints’ his platter with herb oils, balsamic syrup and pale mint sauces.
For his Smoked Chicken Breast with Risotto, Sethi ‘sticks’ three fried linguine into the creamy rice for a hairpin-like effect, and then sprinkles chopped parsley and paprika on the edges of the calcium white ceramic plate for dramatic visual contrast.
In pursuit of culinary art, chefs across metro kitchens are innovating ways to dress up their dishes. New Delhi’s John Evans’ Strawberry Ice-Cream Dosa is a deceptive dessert. Lift the cone-shaped dosa cover—and voila!—summery berries and cream appear. Evans describes his creation as a novelty that intrigues the diner.
‘‘Presentation is of paramount importance,’’ he says. ‘‘We’ve been able to remove the sourness of the dosa and it is quite sweet.’’
Khambata knew just how luscious his Flambéed Prawns in Champagne Cream tastes. But he had a problem: The dish simply isn’t much of a looker. So he began to serve the seared crustaceans in soup spoons. The scoop effect, he explains, makes it look quite dapper.
‘‘With look and smell being the first two senses that grab a diner, presenting a dish well becomes an absolute necessity if we want them to keep coming back for more,’’ says Khambata.
But like all art, this one, too, has its maxims.
‘‘It is important to dress a dish in a fashion that would appeal to the local people,’’ says Israeli chef Shaqaf Shabtay of Zenzi. ‘‘So I would use the same ingredients differently in various countries. While in France, where the spherical shape is more congenial, I would place the chicken on top of asparagus stems and the sauce around it. In Japan, where linear shapes rule, I would put the sauce and chicken first and then the asparagus to give it a more jagged finish.’’
While such strict rules are not for all, most chefs have their personal axioms. Hemant Oberoi, executive chef of Taj Mahal Hotel & Towers, Mumbai, never uses artificial colours or inedible decorations. Foil, for example, is anathema to him.
‘‘If a steak is rare, the pink of the meat should be visible, which itself is a pretty sight for meat lovers,’’ he says.
Sean Cummings, chef de cuisine at Hyatt Regency, Sahar, Mumbai, says, ‘‘Taste is my utmost priority, but dressing a dish can redefine classical dishes and reinterpret them, to keep up with modern culinary trends.’’
His signature Prawn Cocktail is a fine example. Cummings serves it not in a glass, as is traditionally done, but on a platter. The dish is so attractive that Cummings used it to present his wife with an engagement ring (it was hidden in the crevices of the prawns clubbed artistically on the plate).
Shabtay strives for a ‘‘wild look’’ in his creations, which has meant banishing even numbers from his culinary realm.
‘‘Three or five cherry tomatoes, some orange rinds splattered across the plate, are my style,’’ he says. ‘‘It has to be a party on the platter.’’
Out of the box. That’s how Indrajit Saha, a chef at Frangipani, The Hilton, Mumbai, describes ingredients such as fish scales, which aren’t typically associated with food but are finding use in contemporary cuisine.
We’ve rolled our eyes and heaved a sigh and slumped our shoulders when our moms told us, ‘‘Cooking is an art.’’