Akshay Bhardwaj
Being in restaurants, you’ve got to be able to roll with the punches - and that's something that I've grown to love. We had five chefs before I took over as head chef, and I learned from each one of them. They all had different styles and I always told myself, one day when I'm the chef of my own kitchen, I want to be that guiding light. That calming influence on my cooks, so when shit hits the fan - I'm there ready, ready to be a sponge to absorb the stress. Like, throw it on me, I got it.
My way into the industry is definitely a bit different given that it’s a family business. I started with back-end operations doing accounting. One day the chef approached me and suggested it’d be a good idea to learn the ins and outs of running a restaurant - and that it could, one day, be very much my restaurant. But there were no shortcuts here. He made it clear that if this is what I wanted, I should know everything - because restaurant owners, the successful ones, are either chefs by trade or have worked under other chefs. And so I got placed into the kitchen as an apprentice. I fell in love with the line, the atmosphere, even the stress of the kitchen. Everything about it made me want to pursue it as a career.
It was interesting because my parents, my brother, pretty much everybody doubted me - and I wanted to prove them wrong. There’s a part of me that carries a chip on my shoulder, wanting to show that I'm always going to rise to the challenge. At the same time, there was no shortage of unconditional support and love. My mom was definitely one to make that clear. We had an open kitchen in the original Junoon location, and in the early days of my career, during dinner service, my mom along with my grandma would peep their head in through the open kitchen window to have a sneaky look. She would stay back to make sure I got a ride home at night - If I needed a ride anytime, she would wait two, or three hours extra for me.
My first memories in the industry were rough. I joined Junoon, as a 19 year-old, soon after it retained it’s Michelin star second year running. I didn't know how to hold a knife, nor did I know how to properly use a peeler, or how to make sauces using a Chinois - really none of the basics. By my second week, New York Restaurant Week had come around. Now typically, our restaurant did about 150 covers, but during Restaurant Week, the reservation count would go all the way up to 350. Junoon is a fine dining establishment, which means every plate has 2-3 components and the kitchen gets pretty intense. I remember the night when an abrupt emergency prompted one of our cooks to leave - and with no surplus of staff, it left me working the fry station for the night. And I’ve never fried anything in my life. I turned to one of the cooks for guidance on how long it takes to fry the paneer pakora, to which they responded “2 minutes”. I stood there with my phone out, timing two minutes to the dot, which when you're cooking, is not the way to do it. You have to go by feel, take a look at it, see if it's golden brown, is it crispy? I looked like a fool.
The first order of appetizers came through and as I was taking the tray out, it slipped out of my hands - and all the paneer fell to the floor. It’s 5:30 pm and dinner service has started. I’m about to cry, I’m shaking, ready to walk out. My chef turns around to me: “Tell the front of house, all the guys, to 86 the paneer.” And that was literally the first 15 minutes of my career on the line - 86’ing a dish for Restaurant Week, 350 covers. And it clicked - kitchens are all about the team. No one cares if you’re the owner's son. Everyone’s got to pull their own weight and have an equal part to play. And I loved that about it. And it was those guys, my team, that I grew closest to. When shit f*cks up, we don't have time to fuss, we move.
A lot of hard work, a few suspensions, and some sobering discussions later, I was given the chance to step up as the head chef. I started my career at a time when Junoon was arguably one of the greatest Indian kitchens you could join in the country. The pressure of the Michelin was there from day one. We have high standards - and the chef, of course, sets those standards. We don't know when the Michelin guy comes, and the day it’s announced is a complete surprise. They ring you from a blocked number to give you the news. I remember cooking at the James Beard house the weekend we got that call, man it was a stressful week. We got the star, I cooked at James Beard, and the next day I was back at work. And that’s really just how things work at the back of the kitchen.
Today we’re proud to have two names under us, with both restaurants being very different in concept and menu. Junoon is modern Indian through the lens of New York City - meaning we get creative with seasonal ingredients local to New York, while still maintaining the nostalgic flavors of India. At Jazba, it is more about doing a ton of research to replicate very authentic recipes. Our chefs were sent for a year or so to different regions to learn the dishes prior to opening. There's less creativity there but the food’s going to take you right to India. Right now, my focus is on Junoon turning 15 next year. It's amazing to think that half of my life has been intertwined with Junoon's journey since its inception. Surviving the pandemic led us to relocate, prompting various iterations of the restaurant's concept over time. From initially offering a three-course tasting menu to now contemplating a complete overhaul, including a shift towards a more vegetarian-focused approach - inspired by the tree of life motif, that has always been central to our identity.
So why the restaurant industry?
A. I'm passionate about it. I'm lucky that I found my passion.
B. Being here has brought me closer to Indian culture. Growing up more American than Indian, food connected me to my family. Now, I understand the effort my dad puts into the restaurant. He brought it this far, and it's my duty and passion to take it to the next level.
My NYC spots: I'll give you two. One is Ichiran - It'll transport you to Japan. They have just one dish on the menu, Tonkotsu Ramen. Based on that, you can just choose if you want more scallions, less scallions, a little spicy, less spicy, a little salty, and no salt. I love going there. Second is Tappo, which is a thin-crust pizza. I'm not that big a fan of thin-crust pizza, but for them, they're very consistent. Ten years now I've been having it, and it's always the same. It's a comfort food.
