In a dining landscape often defined by labels, Chef Niyati Rao resists easy categorisation. Her craft does not seek to fit into a cuisine; instead, it begins with an ingredient, a memory, or a question, and unfolds from there. As the creative force behind Ekaa and the mind behind the evocative bar concept Bombay Daak, Rao is quietly reshaping how India experiences its own culinary identity – less as a fixed tradition, and more as a living, evolving conversation. 

FL: When did you first realise that your culinary voice didn’t fit neatly into an existing category?

NR: It became clear when my food didn’t quite fit into expected boxes. It wasn’t strictly traditional, but it wasn’t trying to be modern for the sake of it either. At some point, I stopped trying to define it and accepted that this in-between space was exactly where my voice belonged.

FL: Are there any “rules” or formulas you consciously choose to resist, despite their success?

NR: I resist the idea that food needs to be louder, richer, visually perfect, or overly complicated to feel special. Sometimes, the most powerful expression of an ingredient lies in letting it exist with very little interference.

FL: Who or what shaped your sensibility early on?

NR: My early sensibility was shaped by a mix of home cooking, curiosity, and observation. The connection between food, memory, and people fascinated me long before professional kitchens. Working in rigorous restaurant environments taught me discipline, consistency, and a deep respect for craft. Just as influential, however, were travels, books, art, and conversations outside the kitchen – something I credit my parents for.

FL: What does success look like to you now, versus five years ago?

NR: Five years ago, success felt like external recognition. Longevity and consistency are what define success for me now.

FL: What are you currently unlearning?

NR: I’m unlearning the idea that every step forward has to follow a predictable path. In kitchens, we’re trained to chase structure and perfection, but creativity often needs room for uncertainty. I’m learning to slow down, question habits, and let ideas evolve naturally.

FL: What do you hope your food stirs in the people who experience it?

NR: A quiet recognition of familiar tastes, paired with a sense of surprise. I want people to feel something familiar, even if they can’t immediately name it. If a dish makes someone pause, even briefly, and feel something personal, that’s meaningful to me. 

FL: What nuance do you think is still missing in India’s culinary space?

NR: We often focus on spectacle, big flavours, big formats, big statements. I believe there’s room for deeper exploration of subtlety, regional nuance, and the everyday rituals that shape how people truly eat.

FL: What’s next for you?

NR: Right now, I’m focused on making food that’s more thoughtful and deeply connected to where I am, what I’m experiencing, and what I see around me. The next chapter is less about expansion and more about depth: exploring ideas more fully, collaborating with inspiring people, and creating spaces where food, culture, and conversation intersect.

The Tastemaker Code

Rule you’re happy to break

That dishes must follow a familiar structure or narrative

A ritual you’re obsessed with right now

Seasonality and the ritual of sourcing

What you never compromise on

Integrity of flavour and respect for ingredients.

Currently watching / reading / listening to

Listening to “The Less I Know the Better” by Tame Impala and “Ae Mohabbat Tere Anjaam Pe Rona Aaya” by Begum Akhtar; reading Stars from Another Sky by Saadat Hasan Manto; and watching The Exchange.

One Decision That Changed Everything

Trusting my instincts and returning to India from Noma to build something of my own.