NEW DELHI: As the executive chef of the restaurant Semma in Greenwich Village, New York, 42-year-old chef Vijaya Kumar has been unapologetically cooking authentic dishes, always carrying a piece of his homeland in his heart. These memories include his school and a bucolic setting — a small house girdled by verdant green paddy fields, his grandparents’ place in Arukkampatti. Those were “glorious” days.
The picturesque images of this village with no electricity or buses, and people trudging miles to reach this off-grid place run through Vijaya’s mind even now. It’s not just the serenity of the place that he misses, but also the experiences of going out with his grandparents for fishing, catching snails, hunting rabbits, picking mangoes, and the most significant memory of his grandma cooking snail stir fry. It is the cooking styles of his grandmother that he is showcasing at Semma. “The concept of sustainability is a new one. In those times, we used to cook and eat what was available to us, what we grew in our fields, and maybe it was sustainable.” “The whole menu is inspired by my childhood,” he says.
Reliving childhood memories by replicating his grandmother’s farm-cooking approach, aloof from the grandeur of urban suaveness, from a town named Natham in Dindigul, Vijaya restores the regional culinary tradition of a place in South India.
The Semma restaurant is now featured as No. 7, among the top restaurants in New York by The New York Times. Vijaya who also has been a Michelin star chef says, “I feel that with this accomplishment, I don’t feel pressure, but more responsibility towards my customers. There must be around 35,000 restaurants in New York, and being ranked seventh among these brilliant eateries is a dream come true for me. I could not believe it when I read in the news.”
Relying on his roots
Earlier, Vijaya worked as chef de cuisine at Rasa, where he experimented with South Indian food imbued with tints of contemporary cooking style. Rasa, too, earned the Michelin recognition. But as the pandemic hit, uncertainty had made him anxious about the job scenario; he had “even thought of applying for cleaning jobs” in case he lost his job as a chef.
The partnership with Unapologetic Foods was a turning point in his life. Restaurateurs Roni Mazumdar and Chintan Pandya encouraged him to include his childhood delicacy like Nathai Pirattal (snail stir fry) to the menu. “Till then I never thought of including this dish, which I was embarrassed to present to the world,” he adds.
He says that Indian food has become an equivalent to paneer butter masala, paneer tikka, etc., but it isn’t the whole deal. “Regional food needs proper representation too,” he adds. What is cooked in our kitchens and what we eat is often not discussed openly by many, especially in India, where the food politics is so dire. Rather than presenting what is considered ‘mainstream Indian food’, he presents regional food to the world. “If other restaurants, say a French restaurant, can write the menu in French and serve their local food, why do we Indians have to underestimate and under-represent ours?” he asks. Encouraged by the response he has been getting, he has plans to add some local toddy-based cocktails to his menu.
A piece of India
Despite having lived in San Francisco and New York for many years, he has never compromised with the tastes of his chutneys, spices, herbs, and flavours — in a bid to impress anyone or appeal to the taste buds of his American customers.
He also shares his daily experiences of joy at his restaurant. He recalls a woman who teared up after eating the food. “They were tears of happiness and contentment of experiencing the exact food made in her native place,” he says.
The wafting aroma of freshly ground spices in mortar and pestle without losing one bit of its flavour, which otherwise would be subdued when crushed in a grinder what you will find at Semma. The restaurant is suffused with a warm ambience; there are paintings of Kathakali, banana plants, plantains, interspersed on the white walls recalling Tamil Nadu in particular and south India in general. The menu represents the entire region – with Gunpowder Dosa, Paniyaaram, Valiya Chemmeen Moilee, Mangalore Huukosu, and so on. When asked about his favourite food from the restaurant, he responds, “I consider all these dishes as my babies. I cook with my heart. How do I choose among them and mark out a favourite?”
While he celebrates his recent accomplishment, he feels obliged to convey the message to youngsters that his battles during the initial phases of his life as a chef were real too, and he has also been assailed by self-doubts. The transition from being in an ordinary Tamil-medium school to a reputed culinary school and to a top-notch Taj hotel had often made him feel inhibited. But he made sure that his struggles did not translate into failures.
As a kid, Vijaya would help his mother in the kitchen which ultimately led to his keen interest in cooking. His culinary classes at the State Institute of Hotel Management also gave him a space to explore, hone his skills, and feel more confident about himself. He says, “I have always wanted to do the best in whatever I do.” This conviction has seen him through the tough times. The present ranking is a validation of that and shows that he has a long culinary career ahead.
