The possibilities of positivity.

Suvir Saran contemplates the unexpected turns his life has taken with cheerful equanimity. "I always wanted to be either a singer or a painter. Now I'm a chef," he shrugs. "Life has its own, I guess, ways of giving us fun stuff to do."

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In 1991, Saran set out to become an artist by attending the Sir JJ School of Art in Mumbai. He continued his education in New York in 1993 at The School of Visual Arts. "I realized very quickly that my hands had become obsolete for the world of design. Everything was being done on the computer." Soon enough, Saran found a different artistic outlet while entertaining guests at his New York home in the evenings. "All the Indian food was so horrible that I started cooking for friends and family in my small little apartment," he says. "Word spread that a young boy was cooking the best Indian food New York had. People started calling me to cater the weddings of their children, or to do their anniversary parties and birthday dinners." Out of this came his catering business, Rasoi, which quickly earned him widespread critical acclaim, as well as clients that included The Asia Society and Carnegie Hall. At the same time, he became an adjunct professor at New York University, teaching classes on Indian cuisine. Before he was 30, Saran was an established authority on the cooking of his native country.

It may sound like a lot to achieve in a short span of time but it is unsurprising to Saran, who believes his success lies in his everyday outlook. "Indian mysticism, and a mystical approach to life, left in me this endless hope that everything resolves itself," he explains. "So in the kitchen I think that was the best tool I could have had: that no matter how strenuous the moment, how challenging the recipe, how mind-boggling the number of people and the number of dishes to be made, nothing fazed me or frightened me." Then he laughs. "In some ways, it's Deepak Chopra-like. If you think positively, it happens."

Of course it isn't all about the power of creative visualization. Saran's lifelong passion for the home cooking of India was a firm foundation on which to build a culinary career. The name Rasoi, which means "kitchen" in Hindi, represented Saran's commitment to the simpler, subtler dishes of Indian cuisine, and it's a commitment he hasn't strayed from since he set off down this path.

Saran learned to appreciate this type of cooking in his own home, where a Brahmin priest prepared the family meals. "Every morning the rituals of cooking for the family deities began somewhere around five," he recalls. "That ritual of food was almost sacrosanct-that was what got my attention. It was mystical, it was shrouded in all this drama and ceremony." The rituals impressed the importance and beauty of simplicity upon him and inspired Saran to keep numerous diaries documenting all the dishes that were made. "Now when I need recipes, I just open them up and there are all the steps needed." They are the kind of recipes, I just open them up and there are all the steps needed." They are the kind of recipes that made Saran's name in a city where Indian restaurant menus were typically filled with "terribly creamy and almost gloppy" dishes.

Nevertheless one restaurant, Diwan, had a better reputation and a well-respected chef, Hemant Mathur, at the helm. Saran dined there one evening and was disappointed when he was served a dish that was "wonderfully tasty" but bore little resemblance to its promising description on the menu. He called Mathur to the table to ask for an explanation, and Mathur agreed that the execution wasn't authentic. "The owner doesn't care," he told Saran. "He wants me to do this . ... mistake." Saran asked Mathur to come see what he was doing at Rasoi, and Mathur accepted. Impressed, Mathur soon began working with Saran. "His eyes would grow big as I would show him recipes," Saran laughs. "He was amazed at how I was making a name cooking these peasant-like dishes. He thought restaurant dishes with butter and cream and all kinds of French-style sauces were the true fancy dishes of India."

Together their reputation grew until investors approached them with an offer of a restaurant of their own, a small space with only twenty-eight seats. Mathur balked at the idea, but Saran was intrigued. "I had never wanted to give my name to a restaurant, in fear that if I don't give every meal perfectly, I'll have lost my metier," he says. "But I felt that if any restaurant could afford for me to give a tasting menu that had never been presented in the world of Indian food anywhere in the world, this was the opportunity. Twenty-eight seats, you could give people magic with every bite." In 2003, Amma opened and the reputation of the co-chefs continued to grow. In 2004, they opened Devi, and now, in 2007, they have a Michelin star for their efforts. "It's a great thing that happened," Saran comments. "Is it something we can count on? We'll continue doing our best and the rest is, as I say, kismet and life."

After twelve years together, the relationship between the chefs works, Saran explains, because they complement each other so well. As a dedicated ambassador of true Indian cooking, Saran travels frequently to teach and to find new sources of inspiration for his menus. Meanwhile, Mathur is happy to see to the day-to-day running of the restaurant. "Hemant brought this loyalty and dedication that I couldn't have found anywhere. He pushes me to travel, because he says as I travel I come back with a whole world full of recipes and experience that will get translated in our kitchen. He loves the creation of the same thing again and again, and I love the hunger for searching for the old jewels of India. So together we make it happen."

In 2005, Saran opened Veda in New Delhi, the city he grew up in. It did not, however, open to rave reviews. "I was slapped in my face by many writers for bringing old Indian food back to India," he says. Even prominent journalist Vir Sanghvi of the Hindustan Times published a scathing account of the restaurant and attacked Saran personally. After several months though, Sanghvi retracted his remarks by acknowledging that Saran was doing valuable work for the future of Indian cuisine. "They felt insulted that this kid coming back was giving them what we had forgotten. And now it's all the rage. They realize that I wasn't just flippant, I was bringing back what was beautiful, so they've all come around," Saran notes with some satisfaction.

Having convinced his toughest critics, Saran continues to educate people about Indian cuisine and search for new dishes. His first cookbook, Indian Home Cooking (2004) presents the "humble, less-is-more dishes of India" that form the basis of his professional cooking. His upcoming book, American Masala (October 2007), documents his experience of living in the U.S. through the updated comfort-food recipes of both cultures. In addition to his involvement in his restaurants and books, Saran recently purchased a Hudson Valley farm where he will produce organic vegetables, meats and cheese. Called American Masala Farm, it will be the home base from which he will test and develop recipes, and contribute to the growing appreciation of sustainable living. "I sleep three to four hours a night," he says wryly. "But I find time to knit, and embroider, and cook, and write, and paint, and tend the chickens and the goats."

Suvir Saran and Hemant Mathur

Co-Executive Chefs, DEVI

New York City