Booktime: Interview with Asma Khan, author of Monsoon

What drew you into becoming a chef and restaurateur?
Cooking was my way of building a bridge back home. I moved to the UK in the 1980s, long before social media and video calls, with just one two-minute phone call a week to my parents. Food was the only way I could nurture the roots I had left behind in India. I remember walking past rows of barren trees in the depths of winter, feeling a deep connection to their stark branches – just as bare and lost as I felt. One day, the aroma of hot ghee in a pan wafted from a house cooking parathas, striking me to my core and overwhelming me with emotion. I wanted to knock on their door, but all I could do was cry. In that moment, I knew I had to return to India to learn how to cook – so I could carry those roots with me. Cooking the dishes of my heritage, hosting, and serving allows me to stay connected to the culture that raised me. Becoming a restaurateur was never the plan, but it was a natural evolution of expressing my heritage through food.

Monsoon is structured around six core Ayurvedic tastes. Do you think it’s important to understand flavours before you start cooking?
Absolutely. Indian cooking, in particular, is about making a dish greater than the sum of its parts. The only way to achieve that is by understanding the flavour profiles you’re working with – allowing them to blend harmoniously, like notes in a symphony. Flavour is the colour palette on a cook’s easel. In Monsoon, I take you by the hand and guide you through the six Ayurvedic tastes – tangy, bitter, hot, sweet, sour, and salty – so you can create meals that stimulate the entire palate.

The book also reflects the six seasons in Bengal. Which time of year do you enjoy most?
I was born in July, at the height of monsoon season, so it holds deep nostalgia for me. The scent of 'mitti' – the earth after the first rain – and the rhythmic pounding of raindrops are etched into my memories. I hold monsoon close to my heart, which is why I named the book after it.

Do you have a favourite recipe from the book?
I love all of them! But if I had to choose one, it would be the biyer bari roast. It’s one of the few dishes my entire family enjoys. My husband and two sons have very different palates, but this one is a crowd-pleaser. My sons devour it when they visit their grandmother in Bangladesh.

Have you seen a change in the way Indian food is cooked in Britain since you first arrived? And does it differ from how it’s cooked in India?
When I first arrived, Indian food in Britain was represented almost entirely by 'curry houses' run by Sylheti immigrants from Bangladesh. The food was very different from what I knew – dishes were often dramatically altered from their original versions. To operate efficiently and affordably, these restaurants relied on modular menus with a few base sauces and spice blends. Today, there is a much broader and more authentic representation of Indian cuisine. But we must never forget that we stand on the shoulders of those first-wave immigrants, who endured unimaginable racism and hardship to establish a place for Indian food in Britain.

Your restaurant, Darjeeling Express, employs an all-women team. How important is it to you to champion women in the cookery world?
Throughout history, it has always been women who cooked – yet their labour has gone unnoticed and uncompensated. By honouring the women in my kitchen, I bring dignity to the craft of home cooking. I also want women and girls to realise that the skills they take for granted can be turned into businesses if they choose. I don’t believe every skill must be monetised, but I want people to recognise the power of the knowledge passed down from mothers and grandmothers – it has the potential to change the world.

Which other chefs inspire you in your work?
Aside from my mother, who ran a successful catering business and was an exceptional cook, I am grateful to our family’s cook, Hajji Saheb, who cooked for us with such skill. I also deeply admire Madhur Jaffrey – her pioneering work in cookbooks paved the way for South Asian representation in the culinary world, especially as a woman.

What do independent bookshops mean to you?
Independent bookshops, like independent cafés and restaurants, are pillars of community spirit. They provide a safe third space for people to gather, support emerging authors, and foster engagement with their audiences. In an increasingly corporate and homogenised world, these bookshops offer a much-needed refuge.