Prateek Sadhu opens his new restaurant, Naar | The forager is putting down roots Premium

After two years of research, and roaming the Himalayan belt, chef Prateek Sadhu is bringing his learning — from local ferments to foraged foods — to the plate at a world-class destination restaurant, Naar

Winding up through the hairpin bends, arriving at the luxurious Amaya, a hotel tucked away into the terraced mountain forests near Kasauli in Himachal Pradesh, I’m reminded of the wise words of my Nepali grandmother. She’d always reassure us on road trips in the mountains that “the more difficult the road, the more glorious the destination”. And she’s always been right.

It is on this breathtaking 25-acre property nesting among the chir, or longleaf Indian pine trees, wild grass, fruit trees and terraced kitchen gardens that acclaimed chef Prateek Sadhu has decided to plant his feet after nearly two years of being a nomad. Here, canopied, cobbled and curving paths lead to the doors of his new, and first-ever, restaurant Naar.

It is named after the Kashmiri word for fire and has been built to “celebrate Himalayan food culture”. Over 15 courses, diners at the intimate 18-seater restaurant will sample little bits from everything that this region has to offer. There will be charcuterie plates that highlight the lesser-known sausage-making culture along the Himalayan belt to fresh fish — carp and rainbow trout — from nearby rivers to Yak milk cheeses from the Zanskar Valley served with foraged wild berry jams, ciders and more.

Over the past eight years, including his time as executive chef at Masque in Mumbai (which entered Asia’s 50 Best Restaurants in 2021), he has been deep-diving into the diversity of ‘Indian’ food. “I keep finding new things — ingredients, stories, cooking techniques. And have come to strongly believe there’s no singular category such as ‘Indian’ food at all,” Sadhu says, on our walk in the forest, the spindly pine leaves shimmering like silver in the breeze. “Growing up, if anyone had asked me what a curry leaf was, I’d have said, ‘I have no idea.’ I might have even thought it is European,” he jokes. “Because there was no concept of it in my mother’s cooking at home.” That’s the wonderful thing for him. Therefore, it’s important for Sadhu that the 29 Indian states continue to tell their own “distinct but not disconnected stories of Indian food”.

In the last two years, Sadhu has been trekking in forests tasting berries, blooms and shoots from across the Himalayan region. And occasionally taking breaks, popping into restaurant kitchens around the world to collaborate with other feted chefs, riffing on menus that reflect their individual culinary journeys and unique ingredients. But at the back of his mind, a little more than a year ago, he began to plot Naar, because he has always wanted to tell “the food story of the mountains”.

For 36-year-old Sadhu, who was born in Baramulla, near Srinagar in Kashmir, the mountains are home. “It’s emotional, it is where I belong. It is where I want to cook, live and die,” he earnestly admits. While it might look like a “crazy, random idea” to others, for him, “it is about doing something honest, at a place where I feel most connected,” he declares.

This time around, he will be channelling his time observing the way people from this region “really eat in their everyday”. He will direct these learnings into the foundations that build up the seasonal menus at Naar. While fine dining culture has made it seem like “foraging and fermenting are cool things, in this [Himalayan] region, it is born out of necessity”, he points out. “If you didn’t do these things for survival, you’d die.”