Acclaimed London chef Ms Ravinder Bhogal approached us with an interesting idea. What if she spoke to her friends about the food that means the most to them, and then recreated the dish? Below, she talks to musician and artist Mr Jatinder Singh Durhailay about the delicious dish he returned to multiple times while in the south of India, and serves up a mushroom dosa with tarragon and fontina cheese in the kitchen of her “mixed-heritage” London restaurant, Jikoni.

Mr Jatinder Singh Durhailay is a waifish man with glittering eyes, his mop of jet-black hair wrapped beneath the origami folds of a jauntily tied turban. He is something of a polymath, flitting successfully between two disciplines – art and music. He creates vivid paintings of otherworldly mystics on layers of handmade wasli paper using pigments made from malachite and semi-precious stones (see his Instagram for more), and plays an enchanting but obscure Indian folk instrument called a dilruba, which translates roughly to “heart stealer”.  His compositions vary from the classical to the experimental and avant-garde. He has performed at venues such as Tate Modern and City Hall in London to Vacant in Tokyo. His artworks have been exhibited at Art Basel in Miami and the Brunei Gallery at SOAS.

Trying to pin down someone like Mr Durhailay is challenging. He prefers to operate off-grid, almost as though his creativity depends on it, but when he arrives – albeit an hour late – his youthful enthusiasm makes him easily forgivable. He is wearing slouchy khaadi trousers and a collarless white shirt. He stands comically dwarfed by his luggage – a bag containing his beloved dilruba and a portfolio of paintings tucked under his arm. Mr Wes Anderson could well have written him.

Mr Durhailay and I are both connected through a mutual faith and Punjabi culture, which is heavily dependent on the convivial act of eating. We are sitting at a corner table in my restaurant Jikoni, so I offer him a menu. He is vegan and has been for many years – in fact, he tells me that he has never eaten meat. “I love eating fruit – jackfruit, papayas and bananas are my favourite – and I have been known to eat six bananas a day because they give me so much energy. High-vibe food,” he gushes.

I observe his slight form and order a mountain of food that could fortify an army. “You’re like my mother,” he teases. “Eat… eat…” When he reveals he loves mushrooms “for their dark, magical quality and strange texture,” I immediately add pillowy sweet-potato gnocchi with an umami wild mushroom ragu to our order.

In December 2017, the artist and his “spiritual wife” French artist Ms Johanna Tagada decided to exchange England’s dark winter for the sunnier climes of Auroville in the north of Pondicherry, Tamil Nadu. “It was Johanna’s first time in India. The first trip can be a culture shock and I wanted to introduce her to the country in the kindest way possible, so I took her to a former French colony. I thought the remnants of Gallic architecture and food would provide some comforting familiarity.”

He speaks of the south of India with deep fondness. “It’s such a sensual place, full of lush vegetation, benevolent soil, colossal palms, exotic flowers, birds and fragrance. It’s a land of captivating music and art. The heat on my skin feels like a constant warm embrace – you can’t help but be seduced by it.” The artist particularly enjoys the verdant flora and fauna which he represents in his rich artwork. “The jungle is such a spiritual place for me,” he says, “I think it’s where all the answers are. Nature is a magical force that is not bound to any one religion or person.”

Auroville was founded by the spiritual guru Ms Mirra Alfassa, also known as “The Mother”, in 1968 as an antithesis to capitalist urban centres like New York and London. The township focuses on the values of self-sustainment, environmentally considerate farming, working for the benefit of the community and a commitment to spiritual work and high culture. Real capital is replaced by cultural capital and ideals of a secular and pluralistic India are upheld. In fact, any idea of religion exists as a sort of syncretic practice that is liberally informed by multiple spiritual traditions.

“For me, the most striking thing about Auroville is the sensitivity towards nature.” On his first trip, he was especially impressed by the unobtrusive and low-intervention farming methods in the area, inspired by Japanese farmer and philosopher Mr Masanobu Fukuoka, that he says yield the most delicious varietals of organic fruits and vegetables he has ever tasted.

Pondicherry was colonised several times over, first by the Dutch, then the Portuguese and finally by the French, who left their mark on the culture here. In restaurants you will find croissants, baguettes and crepes as well as French classics such as coq au vin and bouillabaisse all being enjoyed alongside South Indian food classics such as dosa – a fermented rice and lentil crepe – idli and sambar (steamed rice cakes served with a lentil soup). Due to the French influence, the heat and spice in Pondicherry is far more unobtrusive than in other parts of India, which suits Mr Durhailay, who admits he has a sensitive palate.

“I am always in food heaven in South India,” he says. “The food tends to be accidentally vegan because they use coconut oil rather than ghee like in North India, and because people don’t really use refrigerators everything tends to be super fresh – farm to table.” He recalls one particularly special meal eaten at a vegan restaurant a few days after arriving in Auroville that he had initially avoided.

“There was a huge sign on the side of the road for a restaurant with a really cheesy name – Veganza. It attracted lots of hippie travellers, probably because it’s so cheap and offers a menu that has both Western and South Indian food on it.” 

The physical space wasn’t much to write home about. It was located on the flat roof terrace of a ramshackle building with the entrance in an alleyway between two houses. What made it special for Mr Durhailay, however, was the hospitality of the owner, “a permanently chilled Mumbai restaurateur-cum-DJ,” the ambience and views and a mushroom dosa, which he says was so delicious it made him return time and time again.

I imagine Mr Durhailay and Ms Tagada lounging outside Veganza on plastic fold-up chairs with laminated menus while looking over the Edenic fields of Auroville, a cow mooing musically in distance, birdsong and a haze of cannabis in the air. Mr Durhailay is set to return to Auroville a few days after our interview for an art residency. “It feels as though all the essence of sweetness is captured there,” he says while smiling serenely.

Makes around 8 dosas

For the dosas:

200g basmati rice

60g spilt urad lentils

1 tbsp fenugreek seeds

Rapeseed oil to fry

For the mushroom filling:

40g butter

1 small onion, finely chopped

3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped

750g assorted mushrooms, such as chestnut and oyster, sliced

A handful of flat leaf parsley, finely chopped

A handful of tarragon, finely chopped

150g fontina cheese, finely grated

Wash the rice and lentils thoroughly, and then drain and leave to soak along with the fenugreek seeds in a bowl of cold water overnight.

Drain the water from the ingredients, but keep it and set aside. Transfer the soaked ingredients to a food processor and grind to make a smooth paste. Make sure the batter doesn’t look grainy, you can use a little of the soaking water if you need to. It should be like a thick, smooth pancake batter and should coat the back of a spoon. Empty into a large bowl and cover. Keep it in a warm place overnight to allow the batter to ferment. It will double up in volume and be bubbly. If you’re not using the batter straightaway, chill for later – it will keep refrigerated for three days.

For the mushroom filling, melt the butter in a saucepan, add the onion and garlic and cook until soft, then add the mushrooms and cook until they are tender and brown. Season well with sea salt and pepper, stir through the parsley and tarragon and then set aside.

To make the dosas, gently stir the batter. Add a little water if necessary so you have a pourable consistency.

Heat a non-stick frying pan on a low to medium heat for five minutes. Drizzle over a few drops of oil, then wipe the pan with kitchen paper to get rid of any excess oil.

Sprinkle a handful of water on the hot pan to cool it and then dry with some kitchen paper. Pour one ladle of the dosa batter in the middle of the pan. Using the bottom of the ladle, quickly move it in a circular motion, allowing the batter to spread outwards from the middle towards the edge of the pan to form a round and thin pancake.

Drizzle a few drops of oil all over the dosa and increase the temperature to a high heat. When it turns slightly golden and the edges begin to lift, spread some of the mushrooms and cheese on top. Continue to cook until the underside looks completely golden and crisp and the cheese has melted. Use a spatula to loosen the edges, then either roll or fold and serve straightaway. Repeat with the remaining batter.