Putting spicy stereotypes aside for a moment, deep into a conversation with Chef Sanjeev Kapoor – a man who has cooked for royalty, judged on international television, and holds a Guinness World Record for a 918-kilogram khichdi – he lands on a memory of a single spoonful of maize porridge in a Maasai hut in Kenya.
“I was welcomed into a small, dimly lit hut where a meal was slowly cooking over a wood fire,” he recalls. “An earthen pot held nothing more than white maize flour and water. There was no oil, no spices, no seasoning, just the simplest of ingredients, cooked with care.” As the fire burned, half a dozen children gathered quietly around the pot. “A large bowl was served to me, while very little was left in the pot… I could only bring myself to take one spoonful before giving the rest of my bowl to them. That single spoonful became the most memorable meal I have ever eaten.”
It’s the meal, he says, that taught him everything. “It taught me that the value of food is not measured by how much it costs or what you pay for it. Its true worth lies in understanding how precious it is and never taking it for granted.”
That answer sits oddly with the origin story: a career that began not in a hut but at a rolling pin, wrestling with the impossible geometry of a chapati. “My chapatis were never quite round, so I found my own little solution,” he laughs. “I would roll out the dough, place a tea saucer over it, and trim away the edges to make it perfectly round! At the time, I felt quite pleased with my little trick.”
Between that childhood improvisation and a career spanning 200 cookbooks, a television channel of his own, a Padma Shri, and a spinach-and-paneer dish that quietly launched Indian food television as we know it, sits one of the most consequential culinary lives of the last three decades.
The Dish That Became a Doorway
Ask Kapoor which recipe holds the most meaning for him, and the answer comes without pause: Shaam Savera, the dish that opened Khana Khazana, the show that ran for eighteen years and turned him into a household name across Asia.
“At the time, saag paneer was very popular and many curries looked alike,” he explains. “Since television is a visual medium, I wanted to create a dish that would immediately stand out.” What emerged were spinach koftas cradling a soft paneer centre, bathed in a rich tomato gravy – a dish built as much for the eye as the palate. “When you cut into the kofta, the contrast between the vibrant green spinach and the white paneer reminded me of the changing colours of the sky as evening gives way to morning. That beautiful sense of transition is what inspired its name Shaam Savera.”
“I had no idea then that Khana Khazana would become such an important part of my life and career,” he admits, “so this recipe will always remind me of where that journey began.”
Namak Swad Anusar
If one phrase captures Kapoor’s philosophy, it’s the one he made famous on screen: Namak Swad Anusar – salt, to taste. It sounds like a throwaway instruction. It is, in fact, a worldview.
“Most people outside India think that Indian food is hot, curried and cheap,” he says. “One of the biggest misunderstandings about Indian cooking is that people often see it as complicated. They look at a long list of ingredients or spices and feel it must be difficult. But that isn’t really the case. Once you understand how flavours work together, Indian cooking becomes surprisingly simple and very enjoyable.”
Namak Swad Anusar, he says, “was my way of saying that you should trust your own palate. A recipe can definitely guide you, but your own taste should always have the final say.”
And the advice he’d give any home cook still intimidated by the spice drawer? “Cooking is not about perfection. Don’t be afraid to taste as you cook, make small adjustments, add what feels right, and enjoy the process. The more you cook, the more confident you become. And I believe that confidence is the real secret to becoming a good cook.”
An Australian Curiosity
Kapoor’s recent stint as guest judge on MasterChef Australia gave him a fresh vantage point on how far the world’s relationship with Indian food has travelled. “Earlier, most people outside India were familiar with just a few dishes, like butter chicken, naan, and biryani,” he says. “Today, I find people asking very different questions, and I really enjoy that because it tells me that they are not just trying Indian food anymore but genuinely want to understand it.”
Australia, in particular, stayed with him. “What I found most wonderful about Australia was the curiosity people have towards food. They are not just interested in trying new flavours, but they genuinely want to understand the stories, ingredients, and techniques behind the dishes.” On set, that curiosity had a face: a contestant tackling ragi roti, a finger-millet flatbread that trips up plenty of seasoned cooks. “Seeing someone from a different culinary background understand the technique and execute it so beautifully was truly wonderful,” he says. “This reflects how the perception of Indian cuisine has evolved over the years. It is no longer seen as just a few popular curries.”
Even so, he’s careful not to overstate how far the discovery has gone. “I still feel we have only just scratched the surface. There is still so much of Indian cuisine that the world hasn’t discovered. Because some of our best food is not found in restaurants at all. It is the simple, home-style food that families have been cooking for generations, and I would love to see more of that reach people around the world.”
A Plate Not So Different From Yours
For all the accolades, Kapoor’s own table is disarmingly modest. “People often imagine that a chef’s kitchen at home is very different, but honestly, it is much like anyone else’s,” he says. “Personally, I have always enjoyed simple, wholesome meals. In fact, some of the most satisfying food is often the simplest.”
A typical day, when he’s not travelling, unfolds gently: “It usually begins with a light breakfast. Lunch is generally my main meal, and if I am at home, I enjoy a balanced Indian meal with dal, vegetables, roti, rice, and a little curd. Dinner is usually lighter.”
Cooking for the people he loves, the menu tends to write itself. “My mutton biryani is one of them, truffle risotto and laksa are also family favourites, and quite often, my younger daughter Kriti will request a simple homestyle palak khichdi cooked in an earthen pot.” What stays with people, he’s noticed, is rarely the most ambitious dish on the table. “People don’t always remember the most elaborate meal. More often than not, it is the dish that brings them comfort that stays with them. That, for me, is what cooking has always been about. It is not just about the food on the table, but about bringing people together, sharing conversations, and creating moments that everyone remembers long after the meal is over.”
Asked for the one ingredient he never cooks without, he doesn’t mention a spice at all: “My smile!”
Technology, and the Thing It Can’t Replace
Kapoor has spent as much of his career chasing new platforms as new flavours – from Khana Khazana to his own television channel FoodFood, to Wonderchef, to Tiny Chef, his venture into culinary AI. He treats technology as an expansion, never a substitute. “I think the biggest change technology will bring is making cooking more personal and accessible. It can help people understand ingredients better, discover recipes based on what they have at home, learn new techniques, and even adapt dishes to their own preferences.”
But he draws a firm line. “While technology can support cooking, it can never replace the human side of it. The creativity, instinct, and emotion that go into preparing a meal are what make food truly special.”
Still Hungry to Learn
For a chef who has cooked a record-breaking khichdi, represented India at global culinary forums, and shared kitchens with the likes of Rene Redzepi, the question of what still excites him could seem like an easy one to answer. Instead: “It is still the same feeling that excited me when I first started… the joy of discovering something new. Food is one of those subjects where you never really stop learning. Every region has its own stories, every ingredient has something new to reveal, and every person you meet brings their own way of cooking and understanding food.”
He is, by his own admission, still a student. “There are so many regional recipes waiting to be explored, traditional techniques that deserve to be celebrated, and young cooks who bring fresh perspectives into the kitchen. I’ve always said that the day I cease to learn should be the last day of my life.”
The Dinner Party of a Lifetime
Pressed on his dream guest list – three people, living or dead – Kapoor names Shah Rukh Khan, Sir David Attenborough, and his late father, and the menu he’d cook for each says as much about the man as any award citation.
For Khan: “Mango Butter Chicken with an ambe mohar rice pulao, finished with toasted black sesame and black garlic, to match his personality – smooth, suave, and full of flair.”
For Attenborough: “A delicate curry with ash gourd, pumpkin, and drumsticks, made tangy with kokum, and serve it with a multi-millet khichdi. A simple, planet-forward meal that is local, seasonal, and sustainable, while celebrating biodiversity and tradition.”
And for his father, nothing elaborate at all – “a simple Indian-style masala omelette with plenty of ginger and fresh coriander – just the way he loved it.”
Flair when the moment calls for it, conscience when it matters, and always, underneath everything, a plate cooked with love.
