Food and feelings amid spells of imaginary rain: Chef Vikas Khanna

Khanna takes Chintan Girish Modi through his journey to the Michelin Star, which started with his Biji's kitchen

On a winter afternoon in January that makes the people of Kolkata cling on to their shawls and sweaters, chef-author-filmmaker Vikas Khanna (51) is raising temperatures with the brightest of smiles. Women of various ages have gathered at the Kolkata Literary Meet to hear him speak about his novel, Imaginary Rain, (2023) published by Penguin Random House, to get autographs and to click selfies with him. The Amritsar-born New York-based Punjabi seems at home amidst all the attention being showered on him at Victoria Memorial Hall.

I am running out of patience because our scheduled conversation has been delayed but the annoyance disappears when he arrives before me, pulls up a chair, and says, “I am sorry to have kept you waiting for so long. This shouldn’t have happened.” There is something so sincere and honest about him that it seems only fair to reciprocate. “I am sorry too. I seem a bit cranky today because I am functioning on an hour of sleep. I had an early flight,” I say.

We are on the lawn behind the designated authors’ lounge at this literature festival. Since Khanna has only a few minutes to spare before other commitments on stage and in front of the camera, we decide to share dessert rather than lunch or coffee. The choice seems perfect given the Bengali habit of incorporating something sweet into almost every possible meal.

Two plates of freshly made light-brown sandesh filled with nolen gur arrive, thanks to a server from Taj Bengal who is among the staff appointed to make sure that all the authors are well-fed. Watching Khanna – who made it to People Magazine’s list of Sexiest Men Alive in 2011 – relish sandesh is quite a sight. He closes his eyes dramatically, and allows the taste to engulf his senses. “Bhai wah! Mazaa aa gaya!” he says, filling me in on how sandesh made in New Jersey and sold in New York can never compete with what is available in Kolkata.

“It’s not the same. Woh nakli sa, fabricated sa lagta hai (it seems fake, fabricated)… it’s refrigerated for two to three days. Saara swaad hi chala jaata hai (the taste is lost),” he adds. It is his favourite Bengali sweet. He prefers to have sandesh that is home-made rather than store-bought. “Who can make something so sophisticated, so delicate, so flavourful with such few ingredients? Isn’t it amazing?” I couldn't agree more. Nolen gur is a winter delicacy, and I look forward to it every year.

The delight that Khanna takes in food comes from his Biji (paternal grandmother). Long before he became a globe-trotting chef and restaurateur and the host of shows like MasterChef India, Twist of Taste and India’s Mega Kitchens, he used to watch Biji in the kitchen and learn through observation and by lending a hand. Most mornings at home used to begin with listening to the Annapurna Chalisa on a small tape recorder while she cooked.

Having read about Biji in his book Barkat (2021), published by Penguin, I invite him to share more. He says, “I had a tough childhood. When someone stands with you like she did, and constantly normalises life for you despite the taunts and remarks others throw at you, a deep confidence begins to grow inside.”

He was born with a club foot, and doctors told his parents that he would find it difficult to walk. When he was bullied, Biji was the refuge he sought. She used to tell his detractors, “Vikku toh mera star hai, dekhna ek din desh ka naam kitna roshan karega (Vikku is my star. You watch, he’ll do the country proud one day).” She helped him find the inner resources to be unfazed by what others said.

Her imprint on his life is unmistakable. It shows up in all of his work, especially Barefoot Empress (2022), his children’s book illustrated by Aaryama Somayaji and published by Bloomsbury. It revolves around the life of Karthyayani Amma, a woman from Haripad in the Alappuzha district of Kerala, who got the Nari Shakti Puraskar in March 2020. She used to sweep streets outside temples to earn her livelihood and enrolled herself in school at the age of 96 after taking care of her children and grandchildren. Her strong desire to learn made her soldier on despite being rebuked by her classmates and their parents. “Her incredible strength reminds me of my Biji,” says Khanna, who has directed a documentary film featuring her story. It was co-produced by Oscar-nominated filmmaker Doug Roland, with Deepak Chopra as an executive producer.

He found her via Twitter. “It is not easy for me to take on a new project because I don’t like to do things in a half-hearted manner. When I heard about her, something struck a chord, and I documented her for four years.” He feels fortunate to have had a chance to tell her story because she reminded him that “if you have dreams, you will also have ordeals”.

When Karthyayani Amma took the Kerala government’s literacy examination with a record-breaking score of 98 out of 100, she stood first, ahead of 43,300 students who appeared for the same examination. Spending time with her has also made Khanna think of ageing differently. “It is not something to be feared. How you age depends on how you choose to live.”

Our conversation veers towards Biji again. When Khanna was pursuing a degree in hotel management in Manipal, she supported him like a rock. His parents were afraid of future prospects, and the fears were fanned by relatives who had no clue about the hospitality industry. His father owned a video cassette library, and wanted him to become an engineer. Khanna says, “In the 1980s and ’90s, being a chef was not seen as a dignified or viable career. People used to say my sister would not be able to get married; I was bringing shame to the family by entering a lowly profession. Biji told them to let me be happy, give me a chance.”

Khanna’s training as a chef comes from having worked at Taj Intercontinental in Delhi, Mughal Sheraton in Agra, Soaltee Oberoi in Kathmandu, and two hotels in Mumbai – Searock Sheraton and Leela Kempinski – before he worked at the restaurant Salaam Bombay in New York, which changed his life. The owners sponsored him for a green card. Being legally entitled to live in the United States did not shield him from racism, especially after 9/11. Instead of letting the hate get to him, he decided to channelise his energy into excelling at work. Eventually, he opened his own restaurant, Junoon, in the Flatiron district of Manhattan in 2010. It got its first Michelin star in 2011, and repeated the feat over consecutive years.

Biji also taught him to never forget his origins – whether it was running a catering business with his mother, or making rotis for the langar at the Golden Temple. “Our elders sacrifice so much for our happiness. Your parents and grandparents must have done so much because of which you are a journalist today. Tomorrow when you write a book, and win the Booker Prize, I hope you too will remember where you came from,” he tells me. He is looking directly at me. His eyes are moist and so are mine. This is a rare moment in an interview.

Our conversation about humility reminds me of another children’s book written by him – A Tree Named Ganga (2018). It is illustrated by Loki Muthu and published by Bloomsbury. This book is about a seed named Ganga that grows into a tree, and forgets the generosity of all the forces of nature that helped her survive and thrive. The arrogance alienates everyone, and suddenly she has no friends. She realises her mistake, and is forced to make amends.

“Biji taught me to never let success go to my head. She was illiterate but also the most intelligent woman I knew. She knew how to bring people together, how to look after them, how to communicate. Yeh sab cheezein trigonometry se thodi aati hain! (You don’t learn these things though trigonometry).” Our sombre faces break into laughter, and the seriousness melts away like soft sandesh. Khanna did not like mathematics much as a child, and neither did I. One finds common ground in strange ways.