Chef Satish Arora, who became the world’s youngest executive chef when he joined Mumbai’s iconic Taj Mahal Palace hotel in 1970, chronicles learnings from his illustrious career
Chef Satish Arora made history in the world of hospitality when the fabled Taj Mahal Palace hotel in Mumbai appointed him as the youngest executive chef in the world at the age of 26. This milestone in his life dates back to 1970. In the five decades since then, he has been experimenting, innovating, learning, teaching, and making copious notes about his adventures. These life experiences have come together in the form of a sumptuous book titled Sweets and Bitters: Tales from a Chef’s Life, which he has co-authored with Chandrima Pal.
“My life has been a grand buffet, and as I stand here now, I look back at how each element has come together to create a delectable culinary and personal journey,” remarks Arora, reflecting with delight on an impressive career that gave him the chance to cook for and be of service to several presidents, prime ministers, kings, queens, industrialists, and film stars. Some were fussy and difficult to please, others were generous with their compliments.
Published by Bloomsbury India, the book is a platter full of anecdotes that give us a chance to see these famous people up close, away from podiums, rallies and press conferences. Arora writes, for instance, about a chaat party he threw when Atal Bihari Vajpayee was India’s Prime Minister. As Arora began to prepare the gol gappas, Vajpayee said, “It is more fun when one does it himself.” Recounting how Vajpayee cracked open the puris with his thumb, and filled them with masala and chutney, Arora notes how fortunate he felt “to serve a prime minister who was so grounded, so rooted, that he did not hesitate to throw protocol out of the window” and eat with his hands something that Arora had made especially for him.
An alchemist in his laboratory
He gives a charming account of the time when Mumtaz, a movie star that he had a huge crush on, got married to businessman Mayur Madhvani. “Imagine my excitement when she decided to host her wedding reception at the Taj!” shares Arora (77), filling us in on the lavish banquet organized for close to a thousand guests. “Whatever else you have on the menu, please include butter chicken,” she told him. He ensured that her big day would be memorable. That was the least he could do for a heroine whose films he watched repeatedly on the big screen.
The book gives us a taste of what it is like to handle requests from high-profile guests with a smile, especially in delicate situations where one misstep could lead to an unhappy patron. The best example of this is perhaps the time when Indira Gandhi was India’s Prime Minister, and Arora was asked to cook for her whole family at a state guest house in Mumbai. He created a special menu with Maharashtrian and Parsi dishes. While he was explaining their origin and how they were prepared, Sanjay Gandhi said that he was in the mood for Chinese cuisine. Arora could not turn down the request, so he used his presence of mind. It is a funny story worth reading, particularly because it includes a police jeep with a flashing beacon.
Arora comes across as a man who is grateful for opportunities rather than boastful about accomplishments, never forgetting to mention the encouragement that he received from his mother, the support that he got from his father, and the excellent training from his employers that gave wings to his imagination and enabled him to invent and serve new dishes fearlessly. They sent him to Germany, the United States, Thailand, Pakistan and many other countries to learn new recipes and cooking techniques. He brought the knowledge back to his workplace.
“The kitchens were my laboratories and I saw myself as an alchemist — mixing, matching, blending, pairing, unpairing and stirring it all up into something new, unexpected and always fun,” reminisces Arora. One of his creations is a dish called Spaghetti Burmese, “a colourful flavour-bomb” that is spaghetti reimagined with green chilli, turmeric powder, paprika powder, chopped onions and spring onions, garlic, and coriander leaves in tomato sauce.
The challenges along the way
From this book, it is evident that Arora’s creativity peaked when he was presented with a formidable challenge. One of his inventions is a dish called the Shahenshahi Kofta, created in honour of cine idol Amitabh Bachchan. Arora had the opportunity to prepare it for the actor at St. James’ Court, a Taj property in London. The koftas were made using potatoes, a mixture of vegetables, chopped mushroom, paneer, coriander, jeera, red chilli powder, diced anjeer, pista, and chaat masala. Arora rolled the koftas in sooji and fried them till they were crisp.
Aspiring chefs can learn a lot from reading this book because Arora also opens up about the challenges that he had to take in his stride. His dream job did not come out of the blue. He interned at Nirula’s, La Bohème and The Ashoka in Delhi as well as The Oberoi Grand in Calcutta (now Kolkata) before The Taj employed him. After his work was appreciated there and he was made the executive chef, it was not easy for veterans at the Taj to take instructions from a 26-year-old. He had to summon up all the determination he could to prove himself to his peers, show them that he was in charge and that they had to play on the same team in order to win every day.
Arora shares many examples of occasions when he was frustrated as a novice. Instead of giving up, he made a mental note to improve things for freshers when he became a stalwart. He put training protocols in place so that interns were treated respectfully and mentored. This was a beneficial arrangement not only for The Taj group but also for those talented youth. They stayed on to work in India instead of being attracted to hotel chains in other countries.
Reinventing himself
In addition, the book gives us a behind-the-scenes glimpse of how in-flight kitchens are run; all the planning and effort that go into cooking meals for cranky, sleep-deprived travellers on long-distance flights so that they have something delicious to look forward to, which can perk them up. It also demonstrates how a veteran like Arora had to reinvent himself when he was asked to come up with a menu for Starbucks coffee shops in India, run in partnership with the Tatas.
The book concludes with a selection of his favourite recipes, some of which are: Tali Arbi (crisp fried colocasia flavoured with red chilli, garlic, lemon juice and chaat masala); Idli Chaat Chatori (shallow fried semolina idlis served with yogurt, prunes, powdered masalas, parsley and tamarind chutney); Cannelloni Arora (pasta stuffed with chopped onion, chives, garlic, celery, spinach, thyme, paneer, pineapple, red pepper, crushed black pepper, fresh cream, nutmeg and more, and cooked in cheese sauce and tomato sauce). If this combination of ingredients has got your mouth watering, imagine what reading the book will do to you.
My grouse with this book is that it does not include a biographical note for Arora’s co-author, Pal. She is mentioned by name on the cover and in the acknowledgement section but this is not enough since her creative labour has gone into the pleasing prose that we get to read.
I hope that future editions of this book will make up for this omission, and also hopefully include an entire chapter on Arora’s research trip to Pakistan. He was sent to Lahore, Islamabad and Peshawar before the Taj President launched Gulzar — known for Peshawari cuisine — in India in 1982. He writes, “The whole experience was a celebration of the emotional bond that we share over food in our countries that have so much in common.”
I am sure that several readers would want to know more from Arora, whose mother was born and raised in Rawalpindi. He says, “She may not have cooked for famous people, but she cooked for the people she loved, with a lot of love. And when you cook with love, for love, it shows in every little thing that passes through your hands. Even a glass of lassi or a bowl of dal.” This is a warm and gooey book, stuffed with dollops of nostalgia. Bon appetit!
