For me, being organized and taking thoughtful steps always come naturally.
Being entrepreneurial, as in taking ownership, planning, and being in the thick of things, is how my friends and family would describe me. But there is a difference between being entrepreneurial and being an entrepreneur. Nostalgia, instinct, and opportunity — the universe aligned to show me a path across seven seas from my homeland.
Pitching my tent as a food entrepreneur was not as straightforward as it appears. I had professional experience but in a completely different field. I worked in management roles in various domains for a few years, both in India and the US. My stint as an IT professional was good. Honestly, while I did enjoy the fun of travel and corporate life with the little tidings of its own, its allure was limited.
Soon after marrying the love of my life, my priorities changed, and life sure did have different plans for me. Just not the way I expected or perhaps wanted. Starting a business or resuming my job was not on the agenda yet. Instead, I would experience the thrill of setting up a home in a new city and then packing up to do it all over again and again and again. We moved from Hyderabad, India, to Milford, CT, to New London, CT, and Kingston, RI, all the while looking for a place to call home. For a few years after 2007, we found ourselves back in our home country, India. After all the shifting and switching, one of these moves landed us in Boston. Somewhere amid all this, I could sneak in an MBA from the University of Rhode Island (URI), a long-cherished dream. However, I was unsure if I would use this degree to return to a corporate role.
The role that came along in that phase of life was that of a mother. My daughter Arshia was born in 2008 in Ahmedabad. I was captivated by her cute smiles and overwhelmed by her demand for complete attention. My second daughter, Aishani, came along a couple of years later in Dublin, Ohio. I devoted myself to being a full-time mother. Going back to work was a distant thought, and the law of the land was not welcoming of spouses of H1 work visa holders either. There were new flavors to savor. Taking care of a family was sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, but always fulfilling.
However, deep inside, I knew this was temporary, that I would return to work someday, not in a distant future. What was not on the agenda was donning the chef’s hat and running a food business. While the hearth was warm and home cozy, my days had a missing ingredient, like a Kolkata biryani without potatoes, a Punjabi chole without paneer cubes, or an egg roll without chili sauce. I remember yearning for things that would bring the flavors back into my life. The spice and punch of Kolkata’s famous street food was missing both in my palate and life in general.
As the saying goes, “When you want something, all the universe conspires to help you to achieve it.”
With children growing up and self-sufficiency entering the household, I was ready to take my working life head-on.
And so, it happened. In 2014, the US government’s EAD policy was rolled out, and the doors to return to work were wide open. My natural destination would have been a swanky office in a downtown high-rise, but it seems I was destined to take the road less traveled.
All this while, with every bite of a burger or a sandwich, I missed the wholesome and flavorful juiciness of an egg roll. Let alone the service areas on the highway, the quintessential Kolkata dish was conspicuous in its absence in festivities like Durga Pujo. Why on earth would you have idli, dosa, chats, and paratha stalls in these events but not an egg roll? My instinct told me this was a yoke I must break. But was I ready?
I am not an impulsive person at all. I like to plan, organize, and be sure of what and why I am doing something. Having no experience in a commercial kitchen or cooking beyond my own hearth, I could not take a plunge before learning to swim confidently in the proverbial high currents, no matter the intensity of instinct.
I went about meticulously planning my venture. The first thing was to learn the intricacies of the food business. I equipped myself with certifications and hands-on experience. Regulations for eateries are strict and exacting in the US. I needed to be on the right side of the law, and hence, the process of aligning with the law of the land ran parallel to my exploration of being a chef at large.
Rolling out parathas for my family and breaking the eggs for breakfast was one thing; catering to hundreds of orders (I knew I was building for scale) was another ball game altogether. I needed exposure to a commercial kitchen, professional equipment, and managing multiple orders at the backend while keeping the queue of patrons moving smoothly.
My friends often ask me, “Why didn’t you just start your egg roll business and learn in real time?” The answer is straightforward. I am someone who wants to go into battle all prepared. I feel entrepreneurship is like getting all the ingredients ready before you cook the dish. I wanted to learn the ins and outs of operating the back end of a food business. From managing the walk-in refrigerators to putting out fires in the kitchen — I must learn every trick in the book and beyond. I wanted to be on top of all the aspects that came together to create the right business — meticulousness, discipline, team management, and customer service.
An exciting turn of events conspired. I found myself standing in front of one of our favorite eateries. But with a different goal. I wasn’t there to eat — I was here to work. Panera, the friendly neighborhood café, had released a job posting that caught my attention. I felt it was an exciting opportunity for me to get hands-on experience in running a commercial kitchen.
Working at Panera was an investment in myself — something that I knew would pay off in the long run.
If I wanted to make my egg rolls the talk of the town, I had to know how the big companies did it. Panera was the place that would expose me to a world of culinary adventures.
It wasn’t all hunky-dory. It wasn’t all dreary too. Somewhere between freezing, skidding, and stumbling, I learned to make and bake that perfect bread. How did I do that? These are exciting stories that I will share all in good time.
