Roopa Gulati on her one regret from childhood, the unsung heroes of Indian cuisine and food as connection

“I wanted this book very much to be focused on India’s home cooks,” she explains. “They know what their family likes. They’re aware of cultural traditions, and it’s a little bit of history every time they put a meal on the plate.”

The book features more than 100 recipes, each accompanied by an essay about the cook behind it. These range from simple comfort dishes like keema matar to more complex regional specialities such as the Mandalorian chicken curry from the south of India. “It’s not just a recipe on a page,” Roopa says. “It is somebody’s identity, someone’s culture. It’s a statement of belonging.”

A childhood of two worlds

Roopa grew up in the Cumbrian village of Dalston, just outside Carlisle. Her upbringing was a blend of traditional British and Punjabi influences. “We had proper Cumberland sausage and mash lunches, apple crumble or apple plate pie for pudding,” she recalls. “But every evening, Mum would cook a full-on Punjabi meal."

Her mother’s cooking was deeply rooted in tradition, grinding her own spices and preparing elaborate dinners from scratch. “There would be a chicken or a lamb curry, sometimes fish. There would be a dal, there would be a vegetable, there would be rice, there would be salad."

Despite this rich culinary heritage, Roopa admits she didn’t fully appreciate it at the time. “My one regret is not saying thank you. When I was growing up, it was what mums did. I was more interested in this new thing of baking.”

That interest in baking led her to the Cordon Bleu school in Marylebone, where she learned the importance of precision and standardisation – skills that would later help her document recipes from across India.

Returning to India – and relearning her roots

In the late 1970s, Roopa moved back to India with a handful of kitchen gadgets and a head full of French techniques. “I’d just done the Cordon Bleu thing. So it was all about fancy, fancy French cuisine,” she says. But she quickly realised that she had a lot to learn about Indian food.

“I was put in my place within a few weeks because, well, 'she can’t make chapati',” she laughs. Her mother sent her a handwritten notebook of family recipes and Roopa began to reconnect with her culinary roots.

Working in a hotel kitchen, she was exposed to the incredible variety of Indian regional cuisines. “A chef from a different region would cook food every day. And that just opened my eyes. I thought, oh, so Indian food isn’t Punjabi.”

She was particularly struck by how ingredients and techniques varied across the country. “You travel to Kerala and they’ve got heaps of coconuts in the shed. You go up to Punjab and it’s winter and you’ve got those fresh, beautiful cauliflowers. You go to the coast and they cook with fish because that’s what’s on their doorstep.”

Recipes that tell a story

Many of the recipes in Indian Kitchens are deeply personal to Roopa. One standout is her mother’s chicken curry, which she calls her all-time favourite dish. “You can taste mood and emotion in food,” she says. “When she was cross and she was making that chicken curry, the cumin would cremate as it hit the oil and we would go, oh, we better be okay.”

Roopa has written a version of the recipe in the book, but she notes that it’s more of a guideline than a strict formula. “Sometimes I’ll add a bit more garam masala. Sometimes the green chillies aren’t that strong, so I’ll add an extra green chilli. And it just evolves. Every time I make it, it’s slightly different.”

Another memorable dish is a lamb and orange pilau, inspired by a conversation with a man from Simla who challenged her to create a recipe using oranges. “That’s the one that features in the book,” she says. “It’s just so top-loaded with emotion.”

Even her take on a humble biscuit – her spin on the nan khatai – tells a story. Based on the street hawker biscuits she once saw being baked over charcoal in Old Delhi, her version uses semolina and gram flour for texture and freshly ground cardamom for flavour. “Honestly, that’s one of the best biscuits I’ve ever had,” she’s told.

Food as connection

For Roopa, food is more than sustenance – it’s a bridge between people, places and memories. Whether she’s cooking in a remote Indian village or sharing a childhood story from Cumbria, her passion for food is rooted in connection.

“Everyone has a story in them,” she says. “And everyone loves food. It’s not all about Michelin stars. For most people, food is about attachment, memory and sharing a bond.”