Yes Chef!

There are chefs I have the privilege of calling friends, some of whom I even turn quasi mentor to. And then there are some whom I admire and observe from a distance.

Full disclosure, I don’t know Chef Nooresha personally. We have a visual familiarity that’s accorded to a patron who religiously frequents and spends copious sums at a restaurant enough times to have put a down payment on a flat in Mumbai instead. Still, that genuine smile of acknowledgement, mutual appreciation, can sometimes be far more valuable than even a legally binding contract.

The frequency of my visits to Izumi, the quintessential authentic Japanese diner, perhaps the only one in India, began in a very personal circumstance. I had just lost my mother and found myself required to renew bonds with my father, whom I have since cared for. At the time, he had begun to lose his eyesight to prolonged diabetes. So we had to put the precious time to good use to build memories for the rest of his lifetime.

Routinely every Sunday, we found our way to a tiny, cramped 12-seater garage conversion that was Izumi at the time. It took no reservations and opened its doors at 6 pm. We would eagerly line up at 5.30 pm to make sure we snagged a perch at the sushi counter. From behind the glass window, Chef Nooresha would watch us patiently dig our heels before the doors opened and throw us a knowing smile.

After all, customer recognition and acknowledgement are sometimes even more important than the meal itself. And then once inside, with mature grace, she would indulgently pay us some more attention.

It wasn’t that we were looking to feel special. But it was important to spend our special time where the meal was memorable. And Izumi, in its fledgling avatar, exceeded every promise.

Which is why when she organically expanded to the current outpost off Linking Road, the queues only grew. This, despite the fact that one could even reserve a table now! Having been a happy repeat patron, a constant alibi to Izumi’s strong roots in the Mumbai restaurant community, I attribute this popularity to Chef Nooresha’s watchful temperament.

In all my visits, I couldn’t help but admiringly note how she commandeers her open kitchen with nonverbal cues, always scanning the dining hall to ensure service is swift, courteous and perfunctory. There is no time to loiter over a meal at Izumi. The prescription is clear – tables need to turn around, without disrupting their previous tenants.

The fare on offer is consistently comparable to top-class Japanese cuisine, in spite of the limited produce and resources available in India to a Japanese restaurant. Definitely perfectly proportioned nigiris, glistening slices of sashimi, a constantly fired-up robata grill that delivers skewers of delightfully dressed proteins, ramen bowls, donburi... the menu heaves with wholesomeness.

Once you’re in, you cannot miss the torched salmon or the plump scallops. My all-time favourite is the chicken wings drenched in miso butter.

And then there’s genius. The smoked crispy pork belly – black and blue balanced, dressed in a yuzu flavoured kewpie, cannot be skipped. Nor can you forfeit the hamachi truffle ponzu with wasabi jelly – the artistry lies in the balance between sweet fish, a citric dressing, and the jelly bursts at the right time to add a hint of heat. I could go on.

But as near perfection as the meals at Izumi consistently are, for me, the real victory lies in its creator, its founder, its chef.

Nooresha Kably is more than a culinary professional. She is a steady nurturer of her ambition, her team, and her culture. She gives just enough of herself to this wonderful restaurant called Izumi, and then allows many like me to become informal stakeholders that bind us to it as if it were our home.

Beyond being a chef and restaurateur, she is an unassuming role model whom I hope more like me have an opportunity to observe, and even perhaps work with.

I think what makes her special is that she doesn’t realise this herself. In an industry which needs more balanced gender representation, Nooresha achieving her ambitions through a patient, self-motivated, tenacious journey, is the stuff that can inspire many to dare to follow.

Ikigai, in Japanese, means “a reason for being’. For the memories, more than the meals, but never one without the other, Chef Nooresha has found hers and given one to many of us who flock to Izumi.

As for my father, eight years later, he can’t see anymore, and doesn’t leave our home much. But his face lights up when, on a Sunday evening, I order takeaway from Izumi. Mission accomplished.

And for that, I tip my hat, with gratitude, to Chef Nooresha and say Yes, Chef!