Mumbai’s beaches are rightly celebrated as a breathing space for the residents of one of the most densely-populated populated places on earth. Going into the water is not really advisable or practical, but that’s not really the point: the beach is a place to families to promenade, for shy young couples to hold hands, and for friends separated by the bustle of metropolitan life to meet up.

Photo Credit: ¡kuba! cc

A bit of time to spare, and the company of friends and family, calls for recreational eating – a portion of Bhelpuri or Golgappa on Bombay’s seafront plays the same role as fish and chips on Brighton’s. The Hindi term for snacks, chaat, and the word chutney share the same Sanskrit root: it translates to something like “to lick”, or more figuratively, “to devour noisily”. Our Bombay Samosa Chaat celebrates the festival atmosphere of the city at play by transforming an everyday samosa with tangy tamarind, crunchy vermicelli, fresh herb chutney and smooth yoghurt.

Trace the origins of India’s wildly successful snacks businesses, however, and you will find that the engine of Indian culinary innovation is the home kitchen. Our tribute to home-cooked snacks is Khakra, a hand-turned Gujarati cracker traditionally made of wheat and moth bean flour and oil. We acknowledge the everyday celebration that links chutney and chaat –the transformation that turns something simple into something extraordinary – with a complimentary spicy tomato relish. We hope you will enjoy our chaat the way it is supposed to be enjoyed: by devouring it noisily.

Where are you from and what first interested you in food?

I’m from Brighton, Patcham more specifically. My father is a food journalist and so I’ve seen kitchens in action from a young age. Because I was familiar with that environment, I started working as a kitchen porter at the age of 15.

How did you get into the apprenticeship, and how does it work?

I finished college, and was working in kitchens for a few years. Having done some work experience at the Chilli Pickle, I immediately saw how it was different to other kitchens I had worked in. I got in touch with Executive Chef Alun Sperring and he told me there was an apprenticeship scheme in place. My academic commitments are pretty informal, and I’m treated as a young chef, not as a student.

As a Brighton native, what drew you to Indian food?

Curry is the British national dish!  But because we’re taking care over the food, there’s a certain difference. The regional influences mean that your experience of cooking is more varied and interesting – the chefs I’m learning from are from Nepal, from South India, from all over. As a young chef, it makes you proud to be able to make dishes that no one else can.

How do you find working in a multicultural kitchen?

Everyone works hard but is exceptionally friendly. I don’t understand the Hindi slang most of the time, but I’ve picked up a couple of phrases.

Restaurant kitchens are known to be pressurised environments. How did you adapt?

It’s not for everyone. Choose a big kitchen like the Chilli Pickle’s, because it’s not so pressurised: ultimately everyone has to work together to get the job done.

How do you balance your training with meeting the demands of work?

Because the kitchen at the Chilli Pickle is well organised, and everyone knows their role, you only feel pressured when you’re learning something new. But senior chefs know what it’s like to start out, so if I want to learn something, I can just ask.

What’s the most important thing you’ve learned?

The most important thing is to finish whatever task you start. You also learn to work in an organised way.

What attracted you to learning a trade? Do you think it’s a good idea for young people at the moment?

I wanted to have some plans in place for the future, and so went out to get a skill I can fall back on. I can still go to university whenever I like. As a chef, there’s nowhere in the world I can’t work, and it’s a career for life – I’ve worked with chefs in their sixties who are still learning.

What motivated you to set up an apprenticeship scheme at the Chilli Pickle?

Bringing up and training young chefs is an important aspect of any kitchen, especially as skilled chefs are becoming increasingly difficult to find. I feel an important part of being an experienced chef is to pass on your knowledge. It is also incredibly rewarding seeing a young chef grow in ability and confidence, to become strong.

I asked him why an apprenticeship might be of interest to young people:

You learn fundamentals, things like discipline, knife skills, organisation and good hygiene practice. It’s an opportunity to get the right direction at an early stage. Young chefs will naturally tend to take shortcuts, but if given the right guidance eventually they will take pride in their work and instinctively want to do the job correctly.

What’s required of a chef who’s just starting out?

You have to learn to do things in the right way. But the advantage is that you fit into a team immediately, and take on responsibilities at the start.

How does your team have to adapt to working with apprentices?

The Chilli Pickle is a busy restaurant, and you have to pick up the pace. That said, there’s a positive work ethic in the kitchen brigade, and young chefs respond to it.

What’s the advantage of learning your trade in an Indian restaurant?

As the Argus reported on Tuesday, 1,720 apprentices signed up for placements in Brighton last year, showing how work-based learning is already a strong part of the success not only of local restaurants, but also amongst specialist trades across the city. We are proud of our apprentices and pleased to play our role in passing on culinary craft, and we look forward to seeing them develop as chefs.

Something like a gold rush soon hit this frontier province. The British East India Company took a strain of the tea bush grown by the local Singhpo tribe and, in the usual manner, systematically expropriated land from the locals to plant it in huge estates. By the end of the century, Assam was the largest exporter of tea to Britain, and it remains the largest tea producing region in the world today.

Strangely enough, while tea was flooding out of India, it’s said that only the anglicised sections of the Indian upper classes had acquired a taste for it. Coffee had been the traditional drink of choice in South India since trade with the Middle East brought it over in the 1600s, while in the dairy-producing North milk was preferred. In the 1950s, however, faced with a glut of low-grade tea, the India Tea Board began aggressively marketing it in the northern states.

History records a final twist to this story. In the last decade, India’s economy has boomed while the UK’s has faltered, and Indian companies have taken over many quintessentially English firms. Among these are two of the most recognisable tea traders – Tetley and Typhoo.

While our chai recipe is a closely guarded secret, Chef/Owner Alun Sperring was willing to share a few top tips:

1. Add a little pepper to your chai. To give it an extra zing, add a few whole peppercorns – any more it will take on an acerbic edge. This addition gives a more North Indian style of chai, with warm spices and a stronger brew. In South India, a more milky chai is preferred, with the emphasis on green cardamom and ginger.

2. Don’t let the sugar cook. If it caramelises in the pan, it will mask many of the spice flavours. Simply add it at the end.

3. Let your spices infuse. Chef Alun Sperring prefers to boil his spices for five to ten minutes, and remove the resulting liquor from the heat. Add the tea and cover to infuse normally. This allows the warm spices to compliment, and not overwhelm, the fresh and malty flavour of Assam.

4. Don’t overbrew – strain the chai before the spices are overwhelmed by the heavy tannins in the tea.

5. Mix it up. Chai is a very individual drink, so keep experimenting to find the perfect brew and blend of spices for your taste.

Ali Akbar Khan was a master of the sarod, a fretless mandolin-style instrument considered by some to be the ancestor of the Middle-Eastern oud. Alongside Pandit Ravi Shankar, with whom he first performed in 1939, he is considered have been foremost in popularising Indian classic music in the last century.

Another Sarod virtuoso, Buddhadev Das Gupta studied under Pandit Radhika Mohan Maitra for nearly half a century while also pursuing an alternate career as a civil electrical engineer.

Ustad Sultan Khan played the sarangi, a Nepalese string instrument played with a bow and renowned for its ability to imitate the human voice. Working in radio, he made his lucky break at the age of 28 when he met Lata Mangeshkar and followed her to Mumbai. He is joined on this version of Raga Zila by U Srinivas, a South Indian mandolin player from a new generation of classical Indian musicians who have been heavily influenced by jazz.

Amjad Ali Khan, our third sarod player, represents the sixth generation of musicians in his family, and was taught by his father Hafiz Ali Khan, who was highly influential on sarod technique at the beginning of the 20^th Century.

Hariprasad Chaurasia is a towering figure in Indian Classical music. A flute player from Uttar Pradesh, he is known for his innovative rhythmic technique.

Shivkumar Sharma was born in what is now the state of Jammu and Kashmir. He has played a vital role in promoting the santoor, a hammered dulcimer which comes from his home state but can be traced back to the ancient Middle East.

Born in Maharashtra, Shruti Sadolkar is a scholar and singer, and has toured extensively across the world. She was trained in the Khyal singing tradition, whch takes its inspiration from rousing Sufi qawwali, or devotional singing.

We finish our playlist with violinist, composer, conductor and all-round giant L. Subramaniam. Born in Chennai, he is credited with claiming the violin for Indian Classical music, and has collaborated with leading figures in the Western tradition including Yehudi Menuhin and Stéphane Grappelli.