This is the story of a true hero — from an underground name to a star at 25hours Hotel. Chef Kuvam Sharma has been the inspiration behind many of my dinner parties, and I finally got the chance to sit down with him. Known as a pioneer of the underground dining scene in the UAE, he is celebrated for curating unforgettable culinary experiences through his Secret Supper Club. Whether it is his mouthwatering desserts or the gastronomic journeys he creates, Chef Kuvam brings passion and creativity to every dish. Join us as we go behind the scenes of his project, where food, love, and storytelling come together.

— So, let’s start with the back story — how have you decided to become a chef? How did the food story happen?

— There were different positions and things that led me to this profession because it was not about the school but more of a natural career path. My initial career at the university should have been in architecture, so it is a very defined journey. I was lucky to become quite successful at this by the age of 24, thanks to my principles, and I was working as a freelance architect. Then, the second economic downturn of 2014 came by, and obviously, it was not a very fun time. A lot of people were losing their jobs and companies in construction. So here is that — crisis and a pretty depressive episode for the economy and the sector I’m in. 

At the same time, I lost my mother to sickness at the age of 24, which was a really tumultuous time for me. After it happened, I decided to preserve her memory by maintaining her culinary legacy. That was my chief motivation when I came to Dubai. It was seeking therapy through the kitchen, in a way. You know, literally, comfort from bereavement through to the kitchen. That was my zone with memories of my mom. 

Before she was gone, I was completing my second Masters, I was occupied with being a professional in my field, and that is how I became successful so quickly at such a young age. But in the pursuit of all this, I suppose, in some ways, I felt that I lost that connection to my mom. I wasn't able to be there when I wanted to be. So it was quite a heavy burden, I would say, that I took upon myself when I stepped into the kitchen. 

Then my father was obviously the priority, also because he is diabetic. In many ways, his diet had been a factor in his manageable condition. So it sort of became my project to then keep a hold on it, just like my mother did. It was important for me to use cleaner produce, clean ingredients, and clean food. Most importantly, I want to keep that memory of my mother's food alive for my dad. So, without knowing about it, I was already researching so many aspects of food, so many aspects of food combinations that would not have been necessary to a young architect. 

I was cooking for myself, my family, and my friends; it didn’t seem that important. Now it makes sense that my friends often saw me more as a cook, saw that hidden talent, I suppose, because they constantly saw me in a nurturing role. They saw that I could turn up at their house at any given moment, even if there were nothing to eat, there would be wonderful food ready just with whatever they had. 

Whilst I was really successful as a young architect, it was a meteoric and sharp rise and fall. So with the economic downturn, more and more clients were not paying us in full. We had to shut down our family business. It meant liquidating assets. It meant making such tough decisions, like even selling some of my mum's jewellery to pay off our team. We went from a 40-person strong company to going down to the last 10 people and barely staying alive. We paid everyone back, and it was important to us, but in the end, we were completely ruined. 

Many people just wrapped whatever they had and left without their paid salaries. We didn’t do any of that, we decided to stay. At that time, I felt like nothing around me was under control, and the only condition I could actually control was my health — my dad’s health, my own health. 

We were privileged when growing up, and suddenly, after all, we were on the opposite side of all this. But I was never about the physical, as, for instance, my friends would be surprised that I could turn up to a friend who maybe doesn't make as much money as well. But still, I would turn up at their house, and still, I would be able to cook something quite wonderful at their homes. So they always have their idea of me in the kitchen, no matter the circumstances. 

And finally, my friend signed me on to a private chef website — she said, “You're so good at this, and all these people who pretend to be chefs are way worse, so why don't you go ahead?” And I said — “No, no, no, this is not possible.”

[Laughs] 

But in the end, I did an audition for the website’s committee; they loved the food, and I was sent to top-class clients. Unfortunately, their respect for food was really, really low. Back in the day, it was about faceless service — nobody wanted to look at the chef, and nobody wanted to talk to the chef. You stay in the kitchen, and you don't talk about your food; you just serve. And there were big labels that were attached to food, so you should know how to cook these five categories — like you should know how to cook Chinese, you should know how to cook Italian food, and you should know how to cook Arabic. And I, on the other hand, would insist on talking to the clients and on asking them what they want to eat. For instance, they would say, “I want to eat Italian,” and I would ask them, “Do you mean you want to eat five courses of pasta, or do you want to eat food from Sicily? Or do you want to eat a different pesto from a different part of Italy? Do you want to take it through the cheese?” — that all is Italian food. I wanted to tell people the cultural story behind the dishes. 

I was starting from rock bottom; I had nothing to lose, so I threw everything at it, and I wanted to make my culinary experience something else, something meaningful. And the biggest support system here, I suppose, was my friends who said, “Hey, like, why don't you make a dinner for us?” and we decided to start off with a 10-course dinner. I cried during the fourth course because I couldn’t do this on my own. There was meat, there was seafood, and everything was cooked in situ [editor's note: in gastronomy, "in situ" refers to the art of cooking with the different resources that are available at the site of the culinary event. Here, a person is not going to the restaurant, but the restaurant comes to the person's home]. 

The 10-course supper turned out to be like three hours of dining experience that my friends enjoyed. And it all sort of started there. Friends of my friends found out about it, and word of mouth caught on. But the funny thing is — I didn't know how to price this. And I knew what my charges as an architect consultant were, but I did not know what my charges would be as a chef because I didn't even realise that I could do this on a paid basis. So, way back in the day, I used to request people to leave as much money as they thought their meal was worth under their dessert plates. Back in the day, when I was a cook, I was the cleaner; I used to bring all the plates and the dishes from our house to different locations, for instance, to a friend's home in London City, where a lot of the dinners would take place. I would drive all the way there, do the dinners, and clean. So it made sense that dessert was the only time when I was still busy washing plates from the other positions, and my guests had some in private to decide on the payment. Let's say it is 10 people and six courses of food that is 60 plates of food. So I cooked food for and brought over 60 plates. And I'd say to people — hey, just leave whatever money you think cash under your dessert plates. Insane, right? 

There used to be days when 10 people would confirm that they would come and only two would turn up, and I would think that I had spent all my money on the produce, but now all of the food needs to be thrown away. I will eat whatever I can for as long as we can, but then I can't eat everything. And more importantly, I have a broken tyre that I need to fix on my way home, and I need to pay for the petrol. So how am I going to afford to eat? Only two people would turn up, and one of them would say, “Oh, can I pay with a credit card?” Oh, my God…

These were the days when my Secret Supper Club wasn't a thing. And just around that time, I think a year into me doing this, a local writer turned up, and they said they were so excited to join my dinner club. And I said, “It's a supper club?” I never thought of it that way, even though I was exposed to the culture back in London, but I never thought that was what I was doing.

— My food is honest food, and I feel like I am an honest person as well. 

— When I was a young architect from London, Bartlett alumni, I was the youngest architect on the market, and companies were willing to hire me — that worked great. But eventually, when the money started running out of the market, being a Hindu, having a Hindu name and not having any sort of connections worked against us. Similarly, when I got into food — I didn’t really know how to market my food besides just making it. There was no way in the world I’d commercialise the story about my mother for gain. Also, being a cisgender male didn’t help, as even today, there is an appeal that a home chef or a home cook should be a woman, which is a stupid stereotype that I constantly challenge. 

I am from London, I have many friends from single-parent families, and I have many friends of mine whose dads were cooks. I saw many dads who were more modest than their wives and mothers could have been. And it was always quite clear to me that “masculine” is not “man”. Feminine is not female in the same way. “Maternal” is not always about “mother”. And “paternal” is not necessarily “father”. That is the same thing that I practise in the kitchen. For me,  the kitchen is a place of nurturing, and that is a shame that it isn't. 

Still today, Instagram’s algorithm still sort of pushes content where you see a woman in the kitchen, as they think it is much more appealing. 

In a professional kitchen, if you speak to female chefs, you will find out that they still battle draconian laws and are still treated as second-class citizens simply because they are girls. 

And my thing was to challenge all of that completely. I am not going to do checky food. I am going to do mother's food. I am going to talk about Italian mothers, Korean mothers, and mothers from Vietnam, and mothers from Chile, and Peru and make it my mother's food. 

I am going to see if I can make all these mothers’ stories into my own story and tell it from my kitchen. I want to prove to people that it is possible to nurture and be nurturing while still being a male chef. Cooking is a job. Chefing is a job. You cannot assign a gender to it. You cannot assign a sexuality to it. It is about nurturing. And that is what it should really be about. 

Bringing some care into people’s lives, making them care about their food, and making them care about the chefs was my work; that was what was cut out for me. 

Fast-forward seven years, and we are blessed that the chefs actually follow my market prices for five-course dinners. When freelance chefs go out, they follow our standards. I am still not affiliated with any chef's collective; I don't want to be a part of a boys' club. Ironically, all of them follow my models. 

The story of food is a big thing for me. Chefs would come out and say something like, “Oh, we sort of macerated these fruits for 26 hours,” or “We cooked this meat in this special sort of way”, or “We pureed this fruit for you” and whatever. Essentially, they explain the process of cooking, but nobody actually talks about the story of food. 

The story of food is not the processing of food. The story of food is the people that created this food 3000 years ago. The story of food is how that food ended up on your table in the first place. The story of food is about the geography, the topography, and the grannies who created these recipes. It is about them. 

There are chefs who charge 800 dirhams because they are of a different race or because they are a chef in a white chef jacket or whatever. So, I still find myself as an underground artist, and I think it is a very important part of my description and my work. I'm fighting all of these little battles on the other side behind the curtain. 

Many people say — “I want to do food because it's my passion.” And I always tell people — you know, that person who is making tacos every single day, they stand on their feet for 12-15 hours a day? They are not doing it out of passion. It can't be just passion. Passion will not last. Passion is attraction. But it is duty. It is your sense of being; it is also your sense of contributing somewhere. 

I challenge anybody to speak to the street vendors, particularly the street vendors because they are such a big part of any culinary story or culinary legacy of any part of the world. If you speak to them, they will tell you — “I come to my job every day because of my customers”, or “I come here because I see the same family who has been eating my tacos for the last four generations”. And they are proud to do this for these people. Passion doesn't necessarily make you proud. Passion is fire; it burns down by nature. But this is a duty; it's love that keeps you carrying on, even in the ugliest days and the horrible days. I don't think it is just passion. 

You ask runners as well — what gets them past that last 10 metres? It can't be a passion; it is a freaking hard grit that takes you through that. 

We made it look very easy like anybody could pick up a spatula and bake a cake. And voila, a beautiful dinner spread is done in minutes. This is what the majority of people want to promote. But it will never be part of my story because I want to be honest about how much effort one puts into a dish and how much history it has. 

I have cooked for Abu Dhabi’s and Dubai’s number one; I cooked for their families. And I have cooked for people who come from the most humble backgrounds possible as well. The motivation and sensitivity towards food remain the same. I have seen people come together from different communities. I have seen people talk to each other about cancer survival, separation, divorce, love, and how much hard work it takes to be in a marriage. And all of these things happen at my table. 

I think it is because I share my heart and open myself up completely. I think about how I can create a healthy meal for my guests. And yes, I agree. I think the charges that I have now are not for everybody. It is only we know how many discounts and how many things we offer to people, especially people who can't afford, especially for somebody who texts us to say — look, I can't afford this, but I really need community. We have not just supported them for one dinner; we have supported them for years. So it is the legacy that carries on. But it is a long, long journey; I’m very grateful for it.

— Could you maybe let me in behind the scenes and tell me what your childhood table was like? 

—  My mom was a gifted cook. She was known for twisting the recipes. Therefore my two older sisters and I remember a different version of the recipes or different flavours or different ingredients because it was always the addition or the subtraction of one or two. My mother was a bit of a maverick in that sort of way, she could make anything into gold. From the Indian versions of other recipes to authentic pasta and authentic dishes from authentic Arabic food. 

Of course, the improvisation was a requirement, but she always managed to preserve the authenticity. And in the UK, every cultural ingredient that you can think of is not easily available —  you have to go to different parts of the world to shop for them or bring them with you when you come there. Even with those limitations, mom was able to create some really stellar dishes. 

There was no strict cultural distinction between food. If I were to ask anybody who was a 26 or 24-year-old Indian chap, they would say — Muslim food is Muslim food, and Indian food is Hindu food. We weren't like that at all. Like my mom grew up with Sikhs in London, and she was heavily influenced by Muslim and Pakistani friends here and in India. 

There was a pulao that she made, it is called Pathan Pulao. It is Pathan, and literally, the people come from Pakistan or from Peshawar, this is a particular dish that comes from their region. My mum was sort of an expert at making it. I'm inspired by her in so many ways. 

Back when I was young, there would be recipes that took 10 hours, an entire day, or even a day and a half. But once it was presented on a table, let's say if somebody was coming home for dinner, she was ready, dressed in a crisp sari, and she would never ever say anything like “that it took me 20 hours to make this,” as this was a bad taste at our table. 

There were always fresh vegetables that you must eat. There was always a feeling of finishing what was on your plate. At our house, when you were 10 or older, you had to take your own food, and you were responsible for finishing what was on your plate. Even the sort of karmic learning that this is your plate and you have to clean this up as you are getting out. You are responsible for what is on your plate, and eventually, you are responsible for what is on the table. You sort this out. 

We were slow eaters — mom and I were the slowest eaters — and we took great enjoyment in hanging around with the dirty dishes on the table.

— And I can’t help but mention that you create the prettiest tables. Was table decoration always an important part for you?

— Actually, decorating the table was never a priority. I would just stick some flowers because I did not want to add the weight of a vase. I would have to dry the whole thing up, wrap it up, and take it with me. In many cases, I used to do that as well and make the flowers last as long as I could, but flowers are expensive. Eventually, when I was blessed with a team that could support me, I was able to make a little bit of money on the side. I was able to spend a little bit of money on the table itself. My team, my people who are in the kitchen now, and my assistants allow me that sort of creative liberty and creative freedom to spend the extra 10 or 100 dirhams to beautify the table. From there, the storytelling from the table came about as well. 

So when people come to the suppers, it is always abundantly clear that I'm a professional. This is a professional space. Don't assume that there might be shades of Indian hospitality in it, but this is very much a professional space, and I am coming at you with every professionalism that I have learned and built upon. 

People can see me on a normal day when they come to my house and how I am as a host. But then on a surplus day, I am a professional chef that they are coming to. And the table is beautiful indeed, but it is a medium for telling a story.

For instance, we were creating a Nowruz dinner two years ago when tragic events with Masah Amini took place. And we had to do the Nowruz menu, but I needed to do a tablescape, as a lot of my Persian friends, and my Persian clientele will come to the table. They don't want to sit with the usual Nowruz’s grandeur. So we used seven items that you use for your hair — scrunchies, hair bands, we even put scissors on the table. We had the mirror and other things, but we still had the people who knew — they knew. 

I always do these subtle things.

— Do you maybe have any favourite ingredients? And then maybe any ingredients you despise? 

— I don’t use truffles as much because I feel they are too upmarket. Also, salmon is definitely one of those ingredients that I do not use at all, mostly because of what it costs our environment. I have created over 220 five-course menus, and it has been a part of maybe three or four of them.

What I love to use is as many herbs as I can because they grow easily. They grow in Dubai really easily. Practically, anything that grows in Dubai ends up on my menu. 

I have created around 220 menus, and I have had people try 200 of them. So these people tried one menu every single month for the last six to seven years. And so, they know my culinary expression; they are the best ones to know in advance exactly what I'm going to do with the dish. And quite recently, they have made a joke about two main ingredients — one is kohlrabi because kohlrabi seems to be such a boring vegetable for most people, but it grows in Dubai, and I want to use as much local-grown as possible. And the second one — millet, because millet are so great for the environment. I'm so passionate about millet. I think 2023 was the year of the millet. And to be honest, I had been sort of using millet in my menus for the last God knows how long.

— Whenever you are too tired to cook for yourself, if that ever happens, what is your go-to take out?

— So it is a fairly standard Indian restaurant called Gazebo. My favourite dish — they call it a yakhni pulao. There is a reason why all the way from Uzbekistan and down to the south of India, why meat and rice make sense. Personally, I think meat and rice make the most sense. For me, yakhni pulao is essentially small bits of goat meat that are cooked with rice and saffron, then some fresh herbs, which I love, and some caramelised onion. That would be my comfort recipe. I'm very comfortable eating that at any time. If not that, then it is usually a piece of brie with some saffron.

— [Both Laugh] That is a huge difference between the two.

— Even though I didn't go to chef school, that is a completely chef answer, I promise you.

— Are you a sweet tooth or a sour person then? 

— Sweet tooth. 

— Thank God! I am such a sweet tooth as well. And I have a very important question. What is your favourite dessert? What is your favourite dessert that you can also make? 

— In my sleep, I can make a sponge cake.

My birthday cake was for the longest time and still is what they call the berry chantilly, but the chantilly is just a vanilla cream. So vanilla cream with whatever seasonal fruits, a simple sort of vanilla cake — I am in heaven. 

I stopped baking brownies after I tasted my friend’s brownies. If I am not cooking anything at all, in my freezer, I always have her brownie. 

There are a few Indian sweets that I really love as well. 

It would be at this time when I was still travelling from Sharjah in a broken car with almost zero petrol; there was a cake that got my name out — the coconut cake. It is a simple sponge that is made with, amongst other milks, coconut milk. So it is incredibly light. That was my go-to cake for ladies in Jumeirah, who wear the diamonds the size of my fist. Old aunties who play underground card games. During all their card games, it was me coming through the back door and delivering the cake trays. This desert still possesses a special value for me. 

Carrot sponge cake, carrot cake, tres leches cake, or any other sweets on earth is my sweet tooth.

— Mouthwatering talk. So the perfect meal, then, is meat, rice, veggies, herbs, and on the dessert, tres leches, vanilla sponge or carrot cake? 

— Yeah, I think I need a combination of all of them in different situations. 

If I'm having a particularly tough day and I miss home, I want meat and rice. On a normal day, I'm happy with the veggies, as light of a dinner as possible. That is my vibe. If I'm celebrating something, and I'm quite careful with my sugar, it is a sugar intake.

But a perfect meal is something that someone has cooked for me with love. It is when someone wants to watch me eat and is happy to see me eat, and is happy to share a meal with me. You can give me a two minute steak, two minute noodles — whatever. It is a perfect meal for me, if it is cooked with that love.

— I have seen that you have made these beautiful tomato tables. So, where do you source the proper ones?

— So, there are a few, both Azeri and Uzbek, sort of farms that have been associated with Union Coop. And if you can make friends with the farmers — you are all set. But don't go to Al Bersha’s new Union Coop; you need to go to the old-school ones. 

Having said that, I am the biggest spokesperson for vertical farming, for hydroponics. So, in that particular tomato dinner you are referring to, I was given a brief that we need eight courses of tomato, as all the birthday girls has asked for is to have tomato in every course. And I created an eight course dinner, including two drinks that were all laced with tomatoes. The dessert was a tomato sponge with cream cheese ice cream. 

And all those tomatoes were sourced from Pure Harvest, leaders when it comes to vertical farming.

— I realise that you look at the ethics of the produce. So, you source it based on what the brand is about, right?

— Yeah, 100%. At my table, you will hear the story of the ingredients. 

For instance, the fish. Chefs don't like to talk about fish farms, fish farms are nonsense. Of course, not all of them are clean, but what about small Thai places, where small families have a lot of mouths to feed — I'm sorry, there is no other way for them to produce enough fish other than via farms. So, let's not judge them. 

On the other hand, we have our UAE state-of-the-art fish farms, in which the government has invested so much money. Because of federal laws and unanimous food standards, fish available from the UAE fish farms is not just sustainable and incredibly clean to eat but also deeply nutritious. I'm the biggest promoter of the sea bass and sea bream that come from these fish farms. 

On my table, everything is sourced from the UAE as much as possible.

— What is your most popular dish?

— There have been several unexpected heroes here.  

Surprisingly, people always ask for the simplest recipes. One of the most popular menus that always goes around is the Silk Route menu, which I do versions of. I have done the Silk Route menu through land and through sea. The last Silk Route menu we did was based on Marco Polo's travels. So, I told stories of Marco Polo going to different places. For instance, they say that when he sort of came back, he ripped the seams of his coat and rubies fell out of it. This may be true, but they also say that it may not have been rubies, but it may have been beans because that is what he brought from his travels. For somebody like Marco Polo, it makes sense that he would bring actual produce that would be the gems. You don't care about the diamonds when you are starving, as you can't eat diamonds. You have to see what it is like.

Then, the  Emirati menus or my version of Emirati dishes have been well-received and accepted. There is a carrot and kimchi soup that people still speak about, and a lot of people ask about it as well. The problem with this soup is that it cannot be kept for days; it has to be eaten right there on the spot. Although I do my best to promote the kimchi soup. 

— How do you actually create a dish? How do you get inspired? How can you combine ingredients in a new way and make them work, but on paper, it doesn't. 

— Yeah. You know, at some point you just know things — the fragrance of jasmine, the fragrance of rose, the fragrance of olives, for instance. And to create something, you should know these tastes and fragrances by heart and then you should know the limits of the dish. For instance, a ceviche, the top note should always be lime, it cannot be anything else. So it has to be something that goes well with citrus flavour. 

I trained in North Indian classical music, in vocal music, and we were taught ragas. Ragas are essentially a set of notes. Now, within raga you are given a set of seven notes, and you are allowed to improvise as much as you like within notes. And in many ways, I think of ingredients in the same way, where there are limits to how far you can stretch a note or use a flavour.

These boundaries are wonderful because they are set by people who are much smarter and who work in way more adverse conditions than us and were able to create all of these cultures and recipes. 

So, I always feel that if I don't need to reinvent the wheel, I just need to be inspired by the wheel to the extent that I create something new that looks a lot like the wheel. I don't do bells and whistles; I don't care about bells and whistles because I want to see true drama only on stage; I don't want to see it in my food. I want it to be as simple as possible. Don't give me something that is so far off that it is unrelatable. 

— And you change the themes of the menues monthly. So you must be full of ideas every time.

— Yeah, it is important for me to be organised. It is easy to get carried away creatively. My agenda is set until April 2025. When you know what theme you are doing this month, you know how much you can improve on the themes. 

I like to schedule the themes that contrast each other. First european, then asian. That way I'm able to challenge my regulars and myself. I want to challenge them constantly. 

— Would you say people often come alone and then make friends over your table, or do they usually come in groups?

– So the groups were how the supper club started. I didn't really want groups on my table because I thought, like, I'm not sure groups are going to work because I want to create a community. On my supper, you are not allowed to ask what you do, where you are from, how long you have been in Dubai — these have been rules that have been set from day one. 

My dinners are an open space for individuals, for groups, for people who are celebrating birthdays, for couples. There are couples who come in for their, their only date night is their monthly outing for the suppers. I have siblings who come to the dinners. I have people who are new to Dubai and they still come to the dinners on their own. 

Now we usually have two tables in the house, and each table sort of seats about seven to eight people. And you could have one, which is all a group of people who know each other and you could have one where nobody knows each other at all. So everything is welcome and everyone is welcome, but especially people who feel awkward with dinners — this is definitely the space for them.

What is your take on new meats? Do you believe in them? I think they require a lot of energy to produce. 

— Exactly. There is lots of debate around it. But I always thought that if you are making a lifestyle choice, then why not go towards vegetables? Dumbledore said — In life, you must face a choice between what is easy and what is right.

I’m just worried these lab-grown meats will become vegan truffles, becoming the new fashion problem, and impacting communities. 

I'm a vegetable person. In your diet, just eat a few vegetables, eat your meat as well — no problem. But just make sure that you use the bones as well. Don't be that person who is like, “Oh, I can't touch meat if it has bones inside.” Then don't eat meat. Then, go for a vegetarian source of protein because we appreciate an animal. We have to use it nose-to-tail. 

— And last but not least — any new exciting or dream collaborations we should await? 

— This hasn't happened yet, but there is something that we want to do, and as s a musician it really excites me. 

Then, for the rest of this year, we are looking into working with more local farms and more locally available produce — and that is what I'm the most excited about. 

I don't care about the brands, we have done your Gucci, we have done your Loewe. I have done all of those things. From a chef that nobody knows, an underground name, to someone who has done both those things. But what still excites me is using local produce, and local food.

I'm also super excited to take my supper club to Saudi, then take it back to my Mecca,  toLondon. To take it to India, Mumbai, Delhi. So I'm excited to take it to different places. Inshallah. This is part of my manifestation for the rest of the year.