Vikas Khanna On Food, Success, Luxury And His Journey From Amritsar To New York

Celebrity chef, restaurateur, author, filmmaker, and philanthropist Vikas Khanna recently added another feather to his cap: a spot on Time’s List of the 100 Most Influential People of 2026. Khanna’s name was listed under the Innovators’ category that recognises individuals reshaping industries and fuelling new ideas. From Amritsar to New York City, Khanna has come a long way. He’s had world leaders and celebrities seated at his table, as well as his share of Michelin glory, but has never forgotten his humble beginnings. He also never forgets that global acclaim comes with responsibility. Khanna’s culinary legacy is rooted in the flavours and sensibilities of what he’s known as home, and his restaurant Bungalow on New York’s uber-chic East Side is a celebration of those roots. Humility continues to shape the work he does even beyond the four walls of his restaurant kitchen. Not surprising, given that Khanna’s life philosophy is founded on seva or the practice of selfless service.

RR: What do you crave most at the end of the day? 

VK: Silence... and something warm. Often, it’s the simplest dal with rice, a touch of ghee, and achaar. After all the complexity I live with in the kitchen, I crave honesty on a plate. Food that doesn’t perform, but comforts. 

RR: What’s the one dish that still feels like home, no matter where you are? 

VK: Rajma chawal. It carries the rhythm of Amritsar, the patience of slow cooking, and the warmth of family sitting together without the need for an occasion. 

RR: What ingredient do you trust instinctively? 

VK: Haldi. It’s not just an ingredient—it’s memory, medicine, and identity. It has never failed me.

RR: What’s your earliest food memory? 

VK: Sitting beside my grandmother, watching her hands move faster than I could imagine, rolling rotis, stirring pots, feeding everyone before she herself had eaten. I didn’t know then that I was witnessing greatness. 

RR: You’ve often spoken about your grandmother being your biggest inspiration. If there’s one dish you could serve her, what would it be?

VK: I would make her a simple phulka with dal; not to impress her, but to ask, “Did I carry your legacy well?” 

RR: What does success smell like to you? 

VK: Like freshly baked bread in a kitchen that feeds strangers, with love. Success is not perfume—it’s nourishment. 

RR: What’s the most underrated Indian ingredient right now? 

VK: Kokum. It’s delicate, complex, and deeply rooted in coastal India. The world is only just beginning to understand its elegance. 

RR: What’s the one thing international chefs still don’t get right about Indian cuisine? 

VK: They often chase complexity instead of understanding emotion. Indian food is not about layering spices—it’s about layering memory, geography, and time. 

RR: What does luxury mean to you? 

VK: Time. The ability to sit with someone you love and not rush a meal. That is the highest form of luxury. 

RR: If you could cook one meal for your younger self, what would it be? 

VK: The same humble chole bhature I once sold. But this time, I’d sit beside my younger self and say, “Don’t worry, it will all make sense one day.”

RR: What is your relationship with New York now? 

VK: New York tested me, broke me, and rebuilt me. Today, it feels like a city that has finally allowed me to belong. 

RR: You’ve been included in Time’s list of The 100 Most Influential People of 2026. What does influence mean to you today? 

VK: Influence is responsibility. It means your voice can uplift others, not just yourself. It’s not about being seen—it’s about what you help others see. 

RR: What would people be surprised to know about you? 

VK: That I still doubt myself before every service. The fear never leaves. It just becomes quieter. 

RR: Innovation without alienation has been your mantra, but what’s the one dish you would never reinvent? 

VK: Khichdi. It is sacred in its simplicity. It doesn’t need interpretation. It needs respect. 

RR: What’s a skill you wish you had outside the kitchen? 

VK: To be able to play an instrument. Music, like food, speaks where words fail. 

RR: Looking back, what would you do differently? 

VK: Worry less and trust the journey sooner.