My parents gave me my work ethic. When I was a kid my dad owned shops, so I worked for him from 13. Being from an Asian family it was expected. One Christmas my old man bought me a bike – a Raleigh. I was over the moon. Then he told me he’d sacked three of his paper lads and I was going to do their rounds. I learned a lesson that day: life gives, but it also takes away.
My route into cooking was unconventional. When I was at my college open day, I only signed up for catering because there was a huge swarm of girls around that part of the room.
I found my upbringing difficult. My parents came over from India in the 60s, but me and my three sisters were born here. I went to India for the first and last time when I was 14. I’d love to go back.
I struggled with the pressure of being the only son. For years I was put to bed at 6pm on a Sunday so I could get up and work early the following morning. My friends would come around and say, “Is Sat coming out to play?” And my parents would say, “No, he’s in bed” and they’d all laugh at me. I could hear them through the walls. It would be blazing sunshine outside and I’d be in bed.
Let me tell you about the importance of the table. My Punjabi upbringing hasn’t really influenced much of my cooking. But the huge extended family I have really did. Growing up, my house was full of people, and because my parents were quite strict, we had to sit at the table. That was fine. I loved the laughs and the unity. We’ve replicated that feel in my restaurant. The table is what made me fall in love with restaurants. The way it brings people together with no hierarchy.
Cooking is freedom for me. I never really had a mentor, which meant I had to work out a lot of things for myself, but I’ve always liked that. I was allowed to be myself. I was into art before I was into cooking, so I guess that’s really how I’ve approached preparing food. It’s just a medium to be me.
My restaurant is 20 years old this year. My wife Amanda and I have no other investors, no other backing. What that gives you is creative freedom – but also fear. Every week I have fear about whether we’re making enough to pay the bills or the VAT man, or whether we can afford that new dishwasher.
Love is an ingredient. I’ve been telling my staff recently to take some extra time in the kitchen. That sounds a bit weird coming from a boss who wants to turn a profit, but I think you can taste it on the plate. I want the people who come to my restaurant to have one of the greatest nights of their life. ■
Restaurant Sat Bains with Rooms, Lenton Lane, Nottingham (restaurantsatbains.com)
