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Journalism of Courage
Long before the term ‘celebrity chef’ became fashionable, Hemant Oberoi already embodied it. But food wasn’t his first love — he simply loved eating, especially the chicken and mutton dishes his nani, a vegetarian herself, cooked to perfection back in Firozpur, Punjab. He remembers devouring ‘tawa wala meat’ for four annas at a dhaba in Ludhiana, ‘cycle-pipe wale chole’ with thin kulchas for one anna outside his school and homestyle ‘tariwala’ meat and rajma during his hostel days in Kapurthala. Yet, when it came to a career, his heart was set on medicine.
He took his medical entrance exams but missed selection by a few marks. The next option was the Army. He cleared the written exam and was in Bengaluru for the physical when he fell seriously ill and had to return home, dejected. That’s when his sister suggested hospitality — a field he reluctantly took up. “The word ‘chef’ wasn’t even recognised then. Even after I enrolled, my goal was front office or F&B service,” he laughs.
But fate had other plans. “Everything I made turned out well — I’m an accidental chef,” he says.
At just 19, Oberoi joined The Taj Mahal Palace, Mumbai, as a trainee, earning Rs 150 a month. By 31, he was an executive chef – something unheard of. Over the next four decades, he transformed the iconic hotel’s dining landscape, turning every corner of prime real estate into restaurants that became institutions: The Zodiac Grill (French fine dining), Varq (modern Indian), Souk (Mediterranean), among many others.
Always ahead of his time, Oberoi elevated luxury dining to new heights when he launched Chef’s Studio (2006), a one-of-a-kind dining experience with seating for just eight guests. Equipped with cameras and television screens, it offered diners not only a peek into the art of cooking and plating but also the chance to interact with the chef. With an exceptional wine selection, the experience cost upwards of Rs 3 lakh (exclusive of wine) and defined what immersive dining meant. He served the who’s who of the world, from industrialists and actors to presidents and prime ministers.
At home, a wall along the passage leading to his room bears testimony to that journey — photographs of Oberoi with Vinod Khanna, Amitabh and Jaya Bachchan, Mukesh and Nita Ambani, Barack and Michelle Obama, George W. Bush, and Atal Bihari Vajpayee, among others.
Perhaps, the key ingredient in his success was a refusal to replicate. “When we revived Golden Dragon, we served Peking duck on a painter’s palette. There was a brush and three sauces on the side — guests had to dip the brush in the sauce, paint the pancake, place the duck on top and eat it,” he says.
At a socialite’s wedding in the 1990s, he recreated his childhood memory of cyclewale chole. “We used 70 bicycles, the stands held food containers, ladies’ bicycles had baskets of snacks and riders pedalled around serving guests,” he says.
For Nita Ambani’s 50th birthday in Jodhpur (November 2013), he created a ‘truffle garden’ featuring seven kilos of truffles flown in from Alba and France. At Liz Hurley’s wedding (2007), he showcased his take on Rajasthan’s royal ‘Khad Khargosh’ dish, cooking everything from chicken to mutton in sealed clay pots buried in the earth.
Even at home, presentation is paramount. For this writer, he prepares a quinoa and avocado salad topped with orange slices for zest. Using a ring mould, he layers quinoa tossed with a honey–mustard–mango dressing, top it with mashed avocado, followed by orange. When the mould is lifted, a perfect three-tier salad stands tall. Circling it were small pieces of red bell pepper and cucumber.
“The first time I had quinoa was 20 years ago in Peru, it cost a dollar for 10 kilos. Now it’s $10 for one,” he laughs. A non-vegetarian version of the salad (topped with prawns) featured at his eponymous Hemant Oberoi restaurant in BKC, which opened in 2017 to a grand reception.
In addition to presentation, Oberoi paid great attention to understanding his diners and their needs. So when Japanese chef Masaharu Morimoto was launching Wasabi at the Taj two decades ago, Oberoi operated from the understanding that many of his regulars were vegetarian. “Morimoto said he wouldn’t cook vegetarian food. I told him I’d learn from him and create my own versions,” he recalls. “For his scallop carpaccio, I made mushroom carpaccio using three kinds of mushrooms. Then tofu carpaccio with wasabi sorbet. I even created tortilla pizzas and vegetarian sushis, all with a Japanese sensibility.”
His guiding principle, he says, has always been: “Understand the science first, then create the art.”
The conversation flows seamlessly in their drawing room filled with porcelain figures, ornamental vases, awards, and paintings. Ganesha appears in every form: a sculpture, a chef figurine, a painting.
Oberoi talks about being sent to the Royal Guest Palace in Oman at 21, where he catered to kings, presidents and prime ministers; about exchanging tandoori chicken with Chinese chefs to learn their cuisine and about spending most of his waking hours – 8 am to 1 am – at the Taj.
Despite the accolades, he remains disarmingly humble. Whenever his wife Malika praises him, he only smiles.
As we speak, chef and his wife Malika feed us generously — a comforting bowl of red Thai curry with noodles, a simple yet flavourful preparation of beans with caramelised onions and pepper, finished with almond shavings, and gulab jamun with ‘rabdi’ for dessert. He barely eats any of it except the quinoa salad. When we asked about the dish that gives him comfort at the end of a long day, he takes no time announcing moong dal paired with rice. It is this love for feeding that drives him to bring in fresh saag, carrots, and other produce from Punjab, cook at home, and pack about 20 dabbas to send to his clients-turned-friends — including the Bachchans, Godrejs, Johars, and others. “It’s about the relationship we share,” he says, adding, “Sometimes Mrs. Godrej would call me if her dabba delivery was delayed. ‘Mera dabba kithe?’ she’d ask me in Punjabi.”
At some point, the conversation turns to that fateful night in 2008. Oberoi was at the banquet, surrounded by 300 guests, when the attack began. “I thought it was a gang war,” he recalls. “Then a team member called to say there was a shooting. I instinctively told him to shut all the doors and turn off the lights. We hid under tables. The terrorists passed by us. Seeing it all dark, they moved ahead.” Malika remembers how a TV anchor wrongly announced that the Taj’s top chef had died in the attack, sparking panic. Relief came only when he returned home the next morning.
“I lost seven chefs that night,” he says quietly. “You start seeing life differently. It’s like God gave you another chance.”
When the Taj reopened in March 2009, people were still hesitant to come to the banquet. Oberoi took the lead, hosting his son Sidhart’s wedding function there. “Five hundred people came, everybody from Bajajs to Godrejs, Birlas, Ambanis, Bachchans, Goenkas. Mr Tata, who rarely stayed long at weddings, personally greeted every guest. The next day, bookings reopened,” he says, smiling.
Chef Oberoi retired in 2015, as per Taj policy but slowing down isn’t in his recipe. “The day I feel I have to go to work, I’ll stop,” he says. In the last decade, he has launched many restaurants – Martabaan by Hemant Oberoi in Abu Dhabi has held a Michelin star for four consecutive years, and this July, he launched Indikaya in Dubai. He also runs a luxury wedding and home catering business.
And will India see another Hemant Oberoi restaurant soon? “Fingers crossed,” he says, adding that for now, he has to finish writing his autobiography.
