Michelin-starred chef Giovanni Papi on introducing traditional Italian dishes to Indian diners

Indeed. Both my grandmothers were my greatest mentors. They came from two different regions of Italy, and through them I discovered the richness and diversity of our cuisine. They cooked with such love and generosity that my interest in food grew organically.

My maternal grandmother was from Sardinia. She made the most beautiful tomato sauce—tomatoes picked fresh from the garden and slowly transformed into something magical. In Italian cooking, spaghetti with tomato sauce is the ultimate classic, and classics are never easy. You must honour tradition, or you risk losing its roots.

My paternal grandmother, from Sicily, lived in North Africa and made an extraordinary couscous, a traditional Tunisian dish. She spent hours preparing it for our Sunday family lunches, starting before dawn. I would stay beside her in the kitchen, watching her cook with quiet devotion. At six, the kitchen felt like pure magic—and I never wanted to leave.

By 16, I knew I wanted to study cooking. Even today, working with seasonal vegetables or making the perfect tomato sauce gives me immense satisfaction.

Culinary school gives you the foundation—it teaches discipline, structure, and the fundamentals required to become a professional chef. But the real learning happens inside a working kitchen. This is one profession where you never stop learning; the industry keeps evolving.

Kitchen work is physically and mentally demanding. You deal with heat, fire, long hours, and the pressure of delivering every dish on time and to perfection. It demands patience and emotional control—you simply cannot afford to lose your cool.

Today, cooking often looks glamorous, largely due to television shows. But they don’t reflect reality. Professional cooking is far deeper and far more demanding than what is portrayed on screen.

That’s a stereotype—that everyone in a kitchen is aggressive. When I started out, some seniors did display harsh behaviour. But as I’ve grown and now run my own kitchen with a team, I’ve understood that this cannot be passed on to the next generation.

Leading by example is the most powerful way to teach young chefs. I firmly believe—and practise—that a kitchen should be a space of creativity, where passionate professionals come together to create something meaningful and make guests feel at home. Intimidation stifles creativity. When you work calmly, professionally, and with clarity, things fall into place.

There is, however, positive pressure. As a Michelin-starred chef, I constantly push myself to stay motivated and curious. Cooking demands creativity, and creativity comes from curiosity.

I find this shift very interesting. Globally, wherever Indians travel or dine, there is a growing curiosity about food. At our restaurant, many guests are eager to experiment with Italian cuisine, even if they don’t yet have in-depth knowledge of it. That’s where our role as chefs becomes important—to guide them, suggest dishes, and explain flavour combinations.

Indian food culture itself is vast. Its spices, aromas, herbs, and techniques are complex yet delicate, often elaborate and time-consuming. You can’t cook butter chicken in ten minutes, for instance.

Recently, a guest asked for Alfredo pasta, which they had heard about. Alfredo, however, isn’t a traditional Italian classic. Instead, I suggested cacio e pepe—a simple, authentic Italian dish made with just three ingredients: pecorino cheese, black pepper, and hot water.

The skill lies in precision—the balance of grated cheese, water, and constant whisking to form a smooth paste. Once combined with freshly cooked pasta, it becomes cacio e pepe. When I served it, the guest said it was far better than Alfredo. That’s how chefs create awareness—by introducing people to the authentic roots of food.

Globally, there is a strong conversation around sustainable cuisine, along with a focus on home-grown and locally sourced ingredients. Tasting menus are another significant trend, with many restaurants offering only seven- or fourteen-course experiences.

Another trend gaining prominence is storytelling around every dish—sometimes to the point of feeling forced. It’s as if a dish is believed to have no soul without a narrative. I’m not entirely convinced by this approach. For me, storytelling can be as simple as explaining the ingredients on the plate. Not every dish needs a travel anecdote or a discovery story.

Today, however, it often feels like without storytelling, food is considered soulless. I find this an aggressive trend. That said, there is no innovation without tradition—but not every traditional dish needs to be innovated.

Indian spices are incredibly diverse. I enjoy working with cardamom, coriander, and curry leaves. When it comes to eating, I love butter chicken and, occasionally, pani puri. I don’t enjoy very spicy food, so a mildly spiced yet flavourful butter chicken is perfect for me.