6 Culinary Experts On How Travel Helped Them Discover Their Favourite Ingredient

We often think of travel as a means of discovery – of landscapes, cultures, traditions. But for those who cook, create, and eat with intention, travel offers something else: the chance to reimagine flavour. To find an ingredient that challenges everything you know about taste, memory, and even your sense of self. For me, that moment came during a recent trip to Jim Corbett, nestled in the Himalayan foothills of Uttarakhand. I sat down for lunch at The Corbett Kitchen at the Marriott Resort & Spa and was introduced to jakhya. A tiny, crackling seed native to the Kumaon region, was used to temper a smoked paneer tikka and served with velvety hemp seed chutney. One bite in, and I was hooked. The jakhya burst under my teeth with this unexpected crunch– nutty, earthy, deeply aromatic. It felt wild yet comforting, rooted in tradition yet completely new to me. That meal opened the door to a conversation with the chef, Harpal Singh, about everything from stinging nettle saag to rhododendron juice. But it was the jakhya (unassuming but transformative) that stayed with me. Needless to say, I brought home a pack to season my morning bagels. It reminded me that the best ingredients are often the ones hiding in plain sight, waiting to be rediscovered through local eyes and open taste buds.

Ahead, six culinary creatives share the story of one such ingredient and the moment of discovery that changed their lives.

1. Alex Sanchez, Chef & Co-founder, Ek Number Hospitality | A Bowl Of Courage In Orvieto

Twelve-year-old Alex Sanchez didn’t know he’d grow up to become the chef behind Mumbai’s beloved Americano and Otra. At that moment, he was simply a reluctant eater, seated at a trattoria in the hillside town of Orvieto, Italy. “I couldn’t read the menu. The server didn’t speak English. I pointed at something and hoped for the best,” he remembers.

What landed on the table was a steaming bowl of mussels in white wine. “It terrified me,” he laughs. “But I took a bite– and it changed everything.” What struck him wasn’t just the briny sweetness of the mussels but the entire setting: the golden afternoon light, his mother’s delight, the vineyards below. “It taught me that taste is emotion. It’s shaped by context.” Though he doesn’t serve mussels today, that moment is imprinted on every dish he creates. “I try to recreate that feeling of unexpected joy – of risk met with reward. It’s what made me want to become a chef.”

2. Gauri Devidayal, Director & Co-Founder At Food Matters Group | Mimolette And The Meaning Of Going The Distance

Devidayal didn’t stumble upon her life-changing ingredient in a kitchen– she packed it in her luggage. “We were in San Francisco, and our chef asked us to bring back Mimolette for a salad,” she says. “I’d never heard of it.”

She returned to Mumbai with four 10-pound wheels of the bright orange cheese. “We replaced the cheddar in a persimmon salad, and the dish just came alive. It validated everything we believe at The Table – ingredients matter. Go the extra mile.” That moment reaffirmed her approach to hospitality. “We’re constantly bringing back ingredients from our travels. Our job is to curate experiences that didn’t exist before.” For Gauri, Mimolette wasn’t just a cheese. “It was a reminder that sourcing is storytelling. And great stories are worth the weight.”

3. Manish Mehrotra, Chef, Ex-Indian Accent | The Stink That Became Sublime

The first time Chef Mehrotra tasted Thai shrimp paste– kapi– he recoiled. “It smelled awful. It tasted worse. I couldn’t believe people actually ate it,” he says. But something about its stinky audacity stuck with him.

Over time, he grew obsessed. “It’s magic. This revolting paste becomes this deep, delicious umami bomb. It’s addictive.” As a chef trained in Thai cuisine, he realised kapi was a cornerstone of flavour. “It taught me not to judge by smell or appearance. Greatness can be ugly.” It’s a lesson he applied to other divisive ingredients, from blue cheese to fish sauce. “For Indian palates, these can be shocking. But if you persist, you discover something unforgettable.” For Manish, kapi changed his philosophy: “Don’t dismiss an ingredient. Dive deeper. Its beauty awaits.”

4. Sarah Todd, Chef, Restaurateur, & Television Host | The Funk And Fire Of Fermentation

In the misty hills of Mizoram, nestled between pine trees, Todd had her first real encounter with fermented bamboo shoots. “I’d tasted it before in Nagaland, but in Aizawl, I watched it being prepared traditionally – and something clicked,” she says.

Locally known as raphi bai, this pungent, funky ingredient is made by slicing young bamboo shoots and leaving them to ferment for weeks, sometimes in sun-drenched baskets. “The smell is sharp and sour, like a cross between cheese and vinegar. But once it hits the pan, it transforms.” The result? A dish that’s tangy, earthy, and layered with generations of wisdom. “It changed the way I think about acidity and balance,” says Sarah. “In French cooking, we use wine or citrus. In Mizoram, they use bamboo shoots. It’s not clean, but it’s compelling.” She now uses it in everything from glazes to broths and sees it as a symbol of culinary resilience. “This ingredient tells a story of landscape, limitation, and genius.”

5. Sahil Makhija, Content Creator, Headbanger Eats | The Silent Power Of Sesame Oil

It was a food court in Bangkok– not a fine dining restaurant– where Makhija had his defining moment. “I ordered Hainanese chicken rice, and there was this extra layer of flavour I couldn’t place,” he says. “Turns out, it was sesame oil.”

That smoky, nutty note changed his perception of simplicity. “I’d had chicken rice before, but this version was unforgettable.” Since then, sesame oil has made its way into his daily cooking. “Just a few drops transform a dish. I use it in everything – sauces, marinades, meal preps.”

For Sahil, it’s less about grandeur and more about intention. “It reminded me that even small things, especially small things, can be powerful. It’s about nuance, not noise.”

6. Niyati Rao, Head Chef & Partner, Ekaa | The Mother And The Mulberry

Long before she launched Ekaa, Rao was a child clambering up the hills of Igatpuri with her mother. “There was this mulberry tree on a cliff,” she recalls. “My mother would pluck the ripe and unripe berries and feed them to me separately.” At the time, it was a simple, sensory experience — tart green berries, sweet purple ones, the in-betweens tinged with surprise. But that early exposure to the nuances of ripeness planted something much deeper.

“Even back then, I realised that ingredients behave differently based on time, place, and treatment. That was the start of my food journey,” she says. Today at Ekaa, this philosophy lives on. Dishes are named not for the recipe but for the hero ingredient. “Each one is like a human being – they come with quirks and seasonal moods. My role is to understand them.” What began as a childhood memory has grown into a practice of radical empathy with food.

The Last Bite

In kitchens across the world– and in the fields, forests, and tidepools beyond– the most transformative ingredients aren’t always the rarest. Sometimes they’re humble, hidden, even off-putting. But each of these chefs, creators, and culinary leaders reminds us that to truly taste something new, we must be willing to unlearn, to feel, to risk.

Because the real flavour of food lies not just in how it tastes, but in how it changes us.