Indian food falls into the category of cuisines that the average American thinks are difficult and somewhat exotic. Whenever I talk to people about cooking it, the first thing they say is, “Oh my God, the spices. There are so many, and I don't know anything about them.” There's this barrier that makes people think it's complicated, and I believe the average Indian cookbook can sometimes reinforce that perception by emphasizing specialty ingredients and elaborate spice knowledge.

The biggest thing I want people to take away is: if you can make pancakes, I can show you how to cook. If you can make Italian, if you can do taco Tuesday, you can do chicken tikka Thursday. I promise. A billion people are cooking every day, and they're just as busy as anyone else. They're opening the fridge and figuring out what to make with what's available. I wanted to write the easiest Indian cookbook you've ever opened without compromising the flavor. I'm a pretty lazy cook myself, so I like figuring out how to make something delicious without having to run to the grocery store for one missing ingredient.

The menu was driven by my desire to bridge the gap between the foods I grew up loving and what I felt would appeal to the American palate. I wasn't going to say, “This is my vision, and whether people like it or not is their problem.” Every dish had to make someone who's never tried it take a bite and think, “Where has this been my whole life?”

As a restaurateur, you have to meet people where they are, but you can't simply give people what they already want, either. There's a middle ground where you can honor your vision and still make people feel that a dish was made for them. Sometimes that can be as simple as a name. Our Sloppy Jai, for example, was one of our most popular early dishes. It's based on kheema pav, a dish with a long history, but the familiar name helped people connect with it.

Operationally, you have to know what makes sense to produce in-house and where a specialized purveyor can do something better. Our menu is labor-intensive, so I don't want to drive myself crazy making something we can source from someone who does it exceptionally well. We work with purveyors to customize products for us, too. You'd be surprised how willing they are to collaborate. That can create opportunities for both sides while allowing you to deliver an amazing customer experience without unnecessarily burdening your staff.

I think one of the biggest factors is the generational change among Indians in America. For decades, immigrant parents often wanted their children to become doctors or engineers rather than pursue culinary careers. Now, we're seeing a generation of second- and third-generation Indians who feel liberated from those expectations. They're falling in love with food and cuisine and opening incredible restaurants.

What's particularly remarkable is that this is happening beyond major metropolitan areas. It's not just New York or San Francisco; it's happening in places like North Carolina, Mississippi and other smaller markets. That's how Indian food will truly become part of the mainstream.

I also think we need to rethink authenticity. Cuisine has to understand where it came from, but it must always look forward. Many ingredients we now consider quintessentially Indian, including chilies, tomatoes and potatoes, arrived on the subcontinent through trade and colonization. So where do you start the clock when deciding what's authentic?

Every dish should evolve to suit its time, its people and its place. At Chai Pani, we use ingredients like kale, collards, sweet potatoes and okra because we're Southerners running an Indian restaurant in the South. You have to ask whether a dish still makes sense as it is or whether it can be reworked to reflect where you are and how people eat today. Tradition matters, but it shouldn't prevent you from making something better.

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