Keen to explore Sienna Cafe’s ‘bajaar to table’ process more closely, I’m following chefs Auroni and Avi on their routine early morning market visit. It is steps away from the restaurant. After all, every self-respecting Bengali kitchen sources its ingredients from the parar bajaar or neighbourhood market. Each one is similar in terms of seasonal offerings but also quite distinct, as defined by its resident vendors.
“How many bajaars can you walk into where the vendors themselves will explain the distinction between the various begun and lebu and the best ways to cook them? We just passed three different varieties of sheem (lablab hyacinth beans) from a single stall,” Auroni reflects. “And absolutely no bajaar anywhere in the country has three dozen varieties of fish on any given day — be it Mapusa in Goa, Crawford in Bombay or INA New Delhi. Those markets function as supply chains — you go there for ingredients that aren’t available in your local neighbourhood market. Here, we’re spoiled for choice.”
The bajaar to table concept isn’t at all new to the Bengali home kitchen and this feeds into Sienna Cafe’s signature style while determining its ever-changing menu. In Kolkata, every hyperlocal neighbourhood market is, in fact, a farmers’ market. As the shoulder season nudges its way into winter, we’re on the lookout for new ingredients to showcase on their upcoming menu. When the produce in the local market changes, so do Sienna’s offerings, served with a considerably more approachable, stripped-down aura than any other fine dining contemporary spot in the country.
On this particular visit, the small, slender, and modestly-priced bok maach catches Avi’s eye. “I’ve never seen this here before,” he says, turning what resembles a miniature swordfish over in his palm. “Maybe the reverse butterfly technique could work,” referencing Josh Niland’s manual on fish butchery and culinary sustainability.
This ‘nose to tail’ approach is a food philosophy that’s been practised in Bengali home kitchens long before the phrase gained popularity and ‘root to fruit’ has been the standard practice for all vegetables. (Many of us carry childhood memories of being forced, cajoled and bribed to eat straight-up fried neem leaves.) That being said, there’s been a growing wave of commodification taking over the cuisine
“It’s a trend now for bars in the city to add nolen gur Old Fashioneds to their menu but it’s obviously not available outside of the winter season. Yes, there’s essence and as a restaurant we can easily have nolen gur year-round but I think these are conversations that should be had to encourage people to think more about these things because the demand ultimately determines supply,” says Auroni.
He urges us to consider more deeply what features on our plates at restaurants, beyond the reductive stereotypes of Bengali food. “You can’t simply sous vide a medium rare piece of meat, put a koshamangsho base underneath it, and call it a contrast. How can we respect the recipes, ingredients and processes while also respecting our diners? I don’t think this is a conversation that the F&B industry is having,” he says.
Snaking our way through the bajaar, we bump into another of Sienna’s chefs, Ankita, on her weekly exploratory visit. A defining aspect of the Sienna kitchen culture is that everyone on the team is expected to be acquainted with the local market. Driven by the desire of showcasing Bengali ingredients in surprising new ways, each member of the Sienna team is encouraged to create something of their own, avoiding the koshamangsho-fication trap of how Bengali cuisine is typically portrayed.
As Ankita reaches for a bouquet of freshly foraged dheki shaak fiddlehead ferns, an inked rendering of the very same fronds unfurls indelibly on her inner arm. “Chef Auroni found these in the bajaar and they’ve been a Sienna staple ever since,” she says.
Back at Sienna Cafe, prep for the day’s service has started. The vibe is Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory meets The Bear meets your grandmother’s kitchen. Someone hands me an apron featuring block prints that have seemingly leapt from the chopping board onto the fabric. The team is presenting a recent crowd favourite, the Bhetki ala Kiev, to Auroni — a dish that he conceptualised and the execution of which has been perfected in his absence. He looks on as his team reveals the intricate technique that was finally devised to securely wrap the fish fillet around a ball of radhuni (wild celery) butter.
Meanwhile, Avi has deftly transformed several of his bajaar-found garfish into fried butterflies. Not completely satisfied with the results, he changes course, delicately skewering those that remain. Auroni is fielding calls from celebrities for a table later that afternoon. A fish egg XO sauce simmers in the corner, one of their secret sauces they keep on hand. (There are a few IYKYK items tucked away in the kitchen that regulars know to ask for.)