‘Adapt or perish’, or so believed H.G Wells. And when you’re taking a wide view of the universe, perhaps that is true, but when you narrow the scope down to the world of food, the concept takes on a very different meaning. India’s restaurant scene is thriving, with diners shedding their old distrust for anything new and boldly exploring new cuisines. But that excitement for experimentation gave rise to a wave of fusion cuisines, which often took that innovation a step too far. The last few years have seen a turn back towards localisation with chefs in India and beyond showcasing their heritage in its true form, without embellishment or compromise.
The idea of ‘authenticity’ in food can sometimes feel redundant. After all, what does authentic truly mean? Cuisine is shaped by a host of influences - climate, migration, and the availability of ingredients to name just a few. Yet when chefs showcase the flavours of their own home, the meaning becomes clearer. In that sense, authenticity is simply about staying true to what they know, without altering it to meet someone else’s expectations.
In Mumbai, distilling all the experiences and factors that define authenticity could itself fill a book. Uday Khandeparkar, a journalist turned author, is doing exactly that in his second work, which examines iconic Mumbai restaurants that have flourished for decades while reflecting the city’s socio-economic shifts over the past half-century. With a particular focus on legacy Udupi establishments such as Café Mysore, he brings unique insight into the evolution of the city’s dining culture.
“Thirty years ago, choices were limited, but today people have more disposable income and are open to trying variations across states and communities. Expanding palates and curiosity are driving factors,” he notes. However, he cautions that maintaining authenticity is increasingly difficult: “In the past, cooks were deeply committed and often stayed for decades. Today, younger staff may not always show the same level of dedication. Still, South Indian restaurants attract fast learners, including many Nepali cooks who have become very skilled. The key question is whether future generations will preserve the same level of consistency.”
In Mumbai where restaurants come and go like seasons and where menus and adaptation is often seen as the key to commercial success, a growing number of chefs are taking a different path. They're standing firm on authenticity, carrying their culinary heritage across continents and state borders, determined to serve dishes exactly as they would be prepared back home. These culinary ambassadors are proving that diners, when given the chance, hunger for genuine flavours and stories that transport them to distant kitchens and familiar hearths.
Chef Sudheesan PG At Kerala Quarters
Many Nationalities, One Common Goal
At Kerala Quarters in Lower Parel, and you'll immediately understand what Chef Sudheesan PG means when he describes Kerala cuisine as "unapologetic and fuss-free." The restaurant doesn't pander to expectations or tone down its traditions for unfamiliar palates. Instead, it taps into the raw charm of Kerala’s toddy shops to bring Kerala’s flavours to the landscape of India's financial capital. "The true taste of Kerala lies in home-cooked meals, and that's exactly what we strive to bring to Kerala Quarters," explains Chef Sudheesan PG. "Every dish on our menu is designed to feel comforting, familiar and true to what you'd find in a Malayali household kitchen."
The cuisine of the North East is woefully underrepresented in most parts of India, and until Lin Laishram and Chef Nikesh Asem joined forces to open their cloud kitchen Akhoi, Manipuri cuisine was something Mumbai had never seen in a commercial space. "I grew up in Mumbai, where you can find Burmese, Sri Lankan, Thai and so many other cuisines, but not a single authentic Manipuri restaurant," explains Lin, "I wanted to change that. It was also personal, I missed my home food. Over time, I realised how rich our food and culture are. Earlier, I was embarrassed by fermented foods like nari (fermented fish), but now I see that flavours such as kimchi or seaweed have been embraced by Indians. Why not our own? I felt there was a real need and a gap to fill."
But this phenomenon of exploration can extend beyond Indian borders, and at Tóa 66 in Churchgate, Chef Kanchit and Chef Natanong found a way to introduce Indian diners to an all-vegetarian Thai tasting menu, something even uncommon in Thailand itself. "Of course, in the beginning, there was some nervousness. It is the first time we've cooked a fully vegetarian, 7-course tasting menu, even back home in Thailand, that's unusual," they admit. "There's also a misconception that Thai food is always meat-heavy. In Bangkok, dishes like Phak Boon (morning glory) or wing beans are not side dishes, they're often the highlight of a meal," the chefs explain. "So really, it wasn't about compromising; it was about bringing an authentic but lesser-known side of Thai cuisine to India."
Meanwhile in the bylanes of Bandra, Spanish chef Manuel Olveira at La Loca Maria brings yet another perspective to this authenticity-first approach. Having arrived in India in 2012 to open Arola at the JW Marriott, his journey from not speaking "a word of English" to becoming deeply rooted in Indian soil reflects how food becomes a vessel for cultural exchange. “What I didn’t expect was to fall in love - not just with the food culture here, but with the energy of the country itself, and eventually with my wife and business partner Mickee Tuljapurkar. Those things tied me to India in a way I could never have planned. Once I decided to stay, the most natural thing for me was to bring a piece of home with me - through food,” he says, "Spanish cuisine is who I am, it's my roots, and cooking it here felt like the best way to share that part of myself with my new home."
Chef Manuel Olveira
Native Ingredients - The Building Blocks
For chefs committed to authenticity, certain ingredients and techniques become sacred, elements that simply cannot be compromised, regardless of sourcing difficulties or unfamiliar palates. These non-negotiables often define the soul of their cuisine. Chef Sudheesan is unwavering about two particular ingredients Black Pepper and Kanthari Mulaku (bird's eye chili). “They are the backbone of Kerala spice and give our food its distinct character," he says. When Kerala Quarters first launched in Mumbai, finding the right balance for new palates proved challenging. "Spice can be very subjective," he acknowledges. "But we stuck to our guns. For Malayalis, we serve it exactly as it would be at home, loaded with pepper."
But it’s not just ingredients that shape the personality of a cuisine but the techniques themselves, for Chefs Kanchit and Natanong, it’s the backbone of their kitchen. "The way we balance sweet, sour, salty, and spicy, or the way we treat herbs and vegetables, stays true to Thailand," they explain. This commitment to traditional methodology becomes their defining characteristic, ensuring that each dish maintains its authentic flavour profile regardless of location.
When it comes to Manipuri ingredients, the ingredients are the heart and soul of the dishes and something that Chef Nikesh Asem refuses to bypass, "Manipuri cuisine centres on seasonal ingredients, minimal processing, and simplicity. That is the essence I try to uphold in my cooking," he says, "The fermented ingredients are non-negotiable. Fermented fish, fermented soybeans, and fermented bamboo shoots are essential. These cannot be replaced, so we source them directly from Manipur, even though it is challenging."
Bringing hyperlocal ingredients and maintaining traditional techniques in distant markets presents unique challenges that test even the most determined chefs. Yet these obstacles often lead to unexpected discoveries. In the case of Tóa 66, they discovered a different reality. "The exciting part is that India and Thailand already share a strong partnership, which makes it surprisingly easy for us to source produce like morning glory, thua plu (wing beans), and nam dok mai mangoes," they note that this existing relationship between the countries created unexpected advantages in maintaining authenticity.
But staying true to your legacy doesn't always need to mean eschewing innovation. In the case of Cafe Mysore, Khandeparkar explains how they balance the impact of both, saying, "The philosophy has been to retain 70% of the menu as tried-and-tested classics. About 20–30% can be innovations, like peri-peri dosa or pizza dosa, but the core remains unchanged. Customers want to experience the same flavours their parents and grandparents enjoyed. Consistency, reasonable pricing, and familiarity are the foundation."
Toa 66 Team: (Centre L-R) Chef Natanong, Ishaa Shah Jogani, Deval Jogani, Chef Kanchit
Education Through Food
Yes Mumbai is adventurous with food, but it does sometimes take a little nudge when it comes to unfamiliar names and cuisines. And for restaurants doling out new experiences, patience and storytelling seem to be as important as high quality food. "From the chefs in the kitchen to the servers on the floor, every team member is trained to understand Kerala's rich food culture." explains Chef Sudheesan. This comprehensive approach ensures that every interaction becomes an opportunity to share knowledge about ingredients, techniques, and cultural significance.
Although it's within our own borders, Manipuri cuisine can sometimes feel more foreign to the general Indian palate than say a sushi or Korean ramen, a challenge that Lin and Chef Asem have found instigates varied reactions. "For many, it is their first time, so I’ve seen extremes. Some people love it instantly, others find fermented flavours overwhelming," says Lin, "For example, bamboo shoot or akhuni (fermented soybeans) can be strong at first, but once tried, people discover the umami depth. Some misunderstand dishes if they skip reading descriptions, especially with delivery, but overall I am delighted. It is rewarding to see diners try something new."
Chef Olveira believes conversation and personal anecdotes are what draw in the interest of a diner. "At La Loca Maria, we like to talk to our guests and explain why a dish is made the way it is,” he says, “If someone orders paella, for example, we tell them why it's cooked in a wide pan, why the socarrat, the crispy rice at the bottom, is the bit that everyone fights for, and why it's always shared."
In the case of a more traditionally foreign concept, that is vegetarian Thai food, sometimes it takes a dose of something familiar to bolster trust. "We find that the best education happens through contrast. For instance, many Indians are used to thick, creamy Thai curries,” say the Toa 66 team, “But in their original context, curries are lighter, almost water-like, designed to complement rice rather than overwhelm it. So, when diners here taste it, it's a revelation. Our role is to explain that this is how families in Bangkok would eat at home." This educational moment transforms a potential disappointment, a curry that doesn't match preconceptions, into a cultural experience, and by explaining the 'why' behind the preparation, they help diners understand that authenticity sometimes means challenging their assumptions.
And of course, the stories of the dishes themselves hold a weight as signature dishes often represent not just culinary techniques, but entire emotional landscapes such as the "Kappa and Meen Kudampuli Ithathu" which represents Kerala on a plate; humble, hearty and absolutely homely. The preparation method itself tells a story of patience and tradition. Traditionally cooked in a clay chatti, the curry only gets better as it rests, with the flavours deepening overnight. It's food that tells stories of family kitchens, toddy shops and everyday Kerala life, and that's why we serve it exactly the way it's meant to be.
At Tóa 66, the dish that carries the deepest emotional weight is unexpected – a dessert. "Khanom Krok, our dessert, is the one that connects us most deeply to our childhood," share Chef Kanchit and Chef Natanong. "It's a coconut custard, but with ingredients like corn or spring onion mixed in, which surprises many people outside Thailand. To us, it's the taste of home. It's what our grandmothers made. To serve it as anything else would be like erasing our memories."
These dishes become more than menu items; they're cultural artefacts that connect diners to distant places, family traditions, and collective memories. They represent the chef's homeland on a plate and their personal history and emotional connection to that place.
(L) Chef Nikesh Asem (R) Lin Laishram of Akhoi
Challenging The Palate And Pleasant Surprises
One of the most significant obstacles facing chefs committed to authenticity lies in navigating different palate preferences without compromising their cuisine's integrity. Yet these challenges often yield the most pleasant surprises about diner receptivity. The restaurant industry frequently presents chefs with choice between staying true to traditional preparations and adapting for commercial success. These decisions test not only culinary philosophy but business acumen and personal integrity.
For Chef Asem, authenticity is innate to serving true Manipuri dishes, but he's open to slight adaptations when they serve to improve the experience. "For instance, our iromba is usually very spicy, but we reduced the chilli and lime to suit Mumbai palates," he explains, "However, the authenticity and essence of the dish remain intact. We never skip on the core ingredients, which we continue to source from Manipur. Stay true to the roots. Adaptations may be necessary over time, like replacing traditional alkaline water (khar) in utti with bicarbonate, but they must not compromise authenticity."
Pankaj Gupta, owner of Kerala Quarters discovered something encouraging about Mumbai diners and that's their willingness to learn. "What surprised us most was how ready Mumbai diners were to embrace the depth and diversity of Kerala. Back home, every district has its own way of cooking curries, rice, even the way meals are served, and instead of simplifying that into one uniform version, we chose to showcase the variety, giving each dish its own spotlight. Yes, there were crossroads," he admits, "We could have toned down spices or added fusion twists to play safe (like many restaurants do) but that would have meant losing what made Kerala Quarters special. We chose to stay true to our regionality."
For Matunga's Udipi favourite Cafe Mysore, it's all about giving people a taste of tradition, while also moving with the times. "We have some GSB (Gaud Saraswat Brahim) specialities like Khotto (idlis steamed in jackfruit leaves), but it's the consistency of taste is why people keep returning," says Khandeparkar, "Food has been evolving for centuries. Innovation is part of that natural process, but it should never mean abandoning authenticity. Recipes must evolve organically, not because of market pressure. The human body adapts over time, and food evolves in the same way, slowly, with respect for tradition."
Toa 66 founders Ishaa Jogani Shah and Deval Shah made a pact with the chefs, ‘authenticity first’. They believed in the idea that commercial success will follow if the food is soulful and true. And having both grown up in Bangkok they were abhorred by the idea of diluting Thai food into something generic which might make it easier in the short term, believing it destroys the story they were there to tell. Their philosophy is clear. "We would rather be authentic and build trust than chase trends."
Ishaa Jogani Shah, founder of Tóa 66, brings a personal dimension to this debate saying, "I understand why some chefs choose to adapt, and I don't think there's one 'right' way to do things. But for me, I know I don't want to Indianise Thai food. This is the cuisine of my birth country, something I grew up with and carry with me every day." She continues, "To me, authenticity isn't a risk, it's the reward. It defines us and sets us apart as a place people trust for true Thai flavours, not a watered-down version."
Pankaj Gupta at Kerala Quarters
The Taste Of Trust
The importance of having chefs with genuine cultural connections to their cuisine cannot be overstated. This authenticity creates a trust factor that resonates powerfully with diners seeking genuine experiences. For these chefs, sharing their food culture isn’t just about doing a good job, it’s deeply personal. When you factor in this emotional investment, it explains why authenticity becomes non-negotiable.
For Chef Asem who was trained in Italy and has a mastery of European technique, it was especially rewarding to return to his roots and share his love of Manipuri food with India. "While in Italy, I cooked Italian food professionally, but on my days off I cooked Manipuri food for friends," he recalls, "They loved it and encouraged me to pursue it. Cooking Manipuri food feels more personal, rooted, and allows me to tell my own story. Many South Asian chefs overlook their local cuisines in favour of continental ones. I wanted to change that."
"It's incredibly meaningful. Food for me is memory, it's family meals, festive gatherings, the everyday comfort of Kerala kitchens. Being able to share that in Mumbai and watch people connect to it whether they're Malayalis reliving home or first-timers discovering something new...is very special," reflects Chef Sudheesan.
There’s something quite special about watching someone enjoy food you made, something that even professional chefs don’t seem to ever got used to. "Every night, we peek through the kitchen window and watch diners take their first bite. The little expressions, the surprise, joy, nostalgia, tell us more than words ever could,” say Chefs Kanchit and Natanong, “To see Thai food touch people thousands of miles away from home fills us with pride and gratitude. Food is our language, and through it, we've found a way to connect our heritage with a new audience."
Chef Olveira expresses similar sentiments adding, "It's a very rewarding feeling. When I see guests coming back to the restaurant, smiling, and then bringing their family and friends along, sometimes even from out of town or country, that's when I know the food has truly connected with them. It makes me proud. For me, it's more than serving a meal, it's sharing my culture, my memories, and a part of who I am."
As these chefs demonstrate across very different culinary traditions, it seems the future of hyperlocal cuisine in global contexts lies in a restaurant's decision to resist the urge to adapt. To cook with honesty. Not in compromise but in commitment. And their collective experience suggests that diners today are more adventurous and curious than the restaurant industry often assumes, ready to take a new bite out of Mumbai's culinary future.