He was born in Singapore to Sikh Punjabi parents. His father was also born in Singapore, while his mother was a native of Bangkok. The family had moved to Bangkok when Rishi was around 13 years old, finished his education, and essentially went back and forth between Singapore and Bangkok. As a Singapore citizen, he was required to complete national service, which he spent two years completing before returning to Thailand. Soon after, he and his sister decided to pursue food as a business. They both started at Le Cordon Bleu in Bangkok—his sister entered as a pastry chef, while Rishi focused on cuisine and pastry.
This led to opening a restaurant in the capital called Tribeca in 2013. After a few years, it was successful enough for Rishi to sell it to eager buyers. He’d gone back to Chiang Mai for quite some time and eventually shifted back to Singapore to continue his culinary business journey. He spent some time working at the Marina Bay Sands and switched paths to working in delivery kitchens. This subsequently led him to launch a company in Hong Kong and Singapore, which was a B2B meal service, and once COVID hit, Part Thai was born. Now, however, Rishi Arora has ventured off to the ‘Emerald of the Equator’ with his colourful culinary background in tow.
That’s quite a diverse experience. Must have been rooted in your multicultural upbringing. How did that shape your relationship with food as a young man?
Growing up in such a diverse family setting exposed me to a beautiful mix of cuisines. Yes, it was mainly Thai and Indian cuisine because of my household, of course, but you also have to consider the demographics of Singapore. The nation is made up of three major cultures. One is Indian, predominantly South Indian; we kind of make up the North Indian part of the diaspora here. Then, there’s also the Chinese and Malay, and a bit of Indonesian. This is where the ‘Straits cuisine’ originates, along the archipelago, which is heavily influenced by the Malay and Indonesian cultures. Those are a big, nice mishmash of all our flavour profiles and cultures put together.
Thai food is central to your culinary identity. When we consider the Thai- Indian community, how do you see the relationship between Thai flavours and Indian (or Punjabi) flavours in your cooking? Are there intersection points, or do you draw them separately?
Our taste buds, for those who grew up in a multicultural environment, naturally demand punchier food. When I cook Thai food, it’s definitely a little bit punchier, in the sense that the flavours are more pronounced. It may not necessarily mean it’s spicier, but at least the flavours take a front seat. Whether it’s the curry paste or the richness of the food, they definitely come to the forefront.
Personally, the combination or fusion of the two is not necessary. I’m not inclined to make a Thai-Indian dish; they can coexist on different plates on the same dining table. For example, at home during dinner, there will be a type of Indian curry, but also the option of biting into khao pad. My mother used to make kaeng kai with Singapore chicken rice, or Chinese noodles stir-fry, which was quite normal in my household.
Indian masalas are more intense, whereas Thai food is more vibrant, aromatic, and citrusy, and adds fresh herbs. The former would overwhelm the freshness the latter brings. It has to be done in a gentle and finer manner, so it’s better to have the dishes complement each other, rather than mix ingredients from both cuisines to make a fusion dish.
However, I think if you use individual ingredients from the Indian spice chart, such as cumin or turmeric, to add to a Thai dish, it makes for a safer combination, one at a time.
Your restaurant concept in Ubud takes you into Indonesia. What motivated that move? How is running your restaurant, Juna in Ubud, different from Singapore or Thailand?
My new restaurant, Juna, came about when certain things aligned in my culinary journey. My friend and now business partner, Suraj Melwani, has a hotel in Ubud, and we used to spend plenty of quality time discussing endeavours and opportunities. We had similar outlooks on certain aspects of life and business. Ultimately, he had enough faith and confidence in me to move forward and open up this new venture together.
The entire process felt natural. I visited the space, fell in love with it, the idea itself, and what he also had in mind. Working with someone local who has a successfully running business in Ubud, and with the infrastructure already in place, makes it easier to establish a new project.
I’ve already trained a kitchen team and front of house staff for Juna, monitored their progress, and I shuttle back and forth once a month to ensure everything is running smoothly. And there has been a learning curve for sure! But it’s still fun and very rewarding because once you’ve opened up your kind of food to a different country or people from a different culture, and they genuinely love and appreciate it, it’s a wonderful feeling.
The difference between Ubud and getting into the food scene in Singapore and Thailand, specifically in Bangkok, is quite a contrast, actually. In Bangkok, the market is massive, and it’s a very trend-fuelled and hype driven market. Something new is always popping up, and once people have had a taste, they’ll want to move on to the next new, shiny thing.
As for Singapore, it has its own set of challenges, which includes sky-high rental costs, staffing issues, and low footfall—people are not spending as much in Singapore. Moreover, there is a huge influx of Chinese-backed restaurant chains providing mala and hotpot experiences. This is unfortunate because it takes the attention away from local concepts and diversity.
What is your vision with Juna, and what do you hope to achieve with it?
Well, there aren’t any plans of expanding, as we want it to be a unique experience. With Juna, we wanted to create a space for a different type of dining experience. We have this beautiful bamboo structure housing everything, created by a very gifted bamboo architect by the name of Pablo Luna. As for the menu, I wanted to pay homage to Asian flavours in general, not only Thai. It’s important to note: it’s not fusion. They are just dishes from all over Asia coexisting on one menu. We are reimagining dishes that can be considered fun and comfort food with a hint of nostalgia.
We wanted to build this space as an escape from the city, closer to the native culture and traditions. Its surroundings are plush green vegetation, trees, mountains, local traditions, and so on. It’s unique to this space, and we have no desire to copy and paste it elsewhere. But my brain is always working and searching for something new and different, so let’s see what’s in store in the future. For now, Juna is kind of like the new “baby”.
What has been the proudest moment in your culinary journey?
The proudest moments are usually tied to seeing the satisfaction in people’s faces when they try my food. For any chef, that’s the highest compliment when customers provide positive feedback on everything they try. Subsequently, being recognised for my work is another sense of pride. Many years ago, in Bangkok, Tribeca consistently received awards every year, and people still write about me in various publications. It’s definitely something to be proud about, but more importantly, it’s also very humbling.
For young chefs with Thai-Indian heritage or mixed cultural backgrounds who might look up to you: what advice would you give them about carving their own identity in food?
Young chefs should look at the multicultural aspect of their journey, which is definitely a strong point behind future success. Coming from a mixed culture or multicultural background is a superpower; it should be embraced as one. People who grow up with different types of foods, and those who share various experiences and memories of food, have the upper hand because they possess a bigger bank of flavour profiles that can always be tapped into. This becomes an enormous advantage. Even when I was crafting my menus, be it at Juna, Tribeca, or Part Thai, the dishes were always tied to memory. These are things I’ve tried while I was growing up, in my travels, or during times of experimentation.
Favourite Thai dish (non-work) you order when you dine out?
I’m a sucker for good Esarn food. I love dishes like gai yang som tum khao niao and nam chim chaeo.
An Indian dish you keep coming back to at home?
My late mother’s recipe, actually. She used to make this paneer-rice dish that has tomatoes, kala chana, lime juice; it’s like paneer fried rice, Indian style. I go back to the dish often because it’s a unique concoction that my mother left us—a part of her legacy, if you will.
Ingredient you always travel with (or cannot live without in your kitchen)?
Definitely lime! That particular citrus flavour is very important in the way I cook, and it’s in almost every dish I like or make, no matter if it’s Thai, Indian, or so on. And secondly, chili flakes. What’s life without the kick of spice?
If you weren’t a chef, what would you be doing?
I’d probably be a filmmaker. Apart from food, that’s always been my other passion. I love storytelling; filmmaking is something that I studied as well when I was younger.
What’s your favourite food-based or related film?
Well, I remember being completely enamoured and completely hypnotised by Jiro Dreams of Sushi (2011). And this was before the rage of Chef’s Table and other similar documentaries. I was taken by how passionate he was about sushi, how it was shot, and the overall storytelling.
One local Indonesian ingredient you discovered in Ubud that surprised you?
One aspect I love about Indonesian food is that it has a rich variety of sambal, a category of chili-based sauces and pastes in Indonesian cuisine. You add a little bit to your rice, and it’s so flavourful, and each of them has its own unique qualities. It’s magic!