masala, memory, migration.

I’m Litu Mohiuddin, though most people know me as Litu bhai.

I was born in a rural village in Bangladesh, where farm-to-table was not a movement but everyday life. My relationship with food began early — growing vegetables, selling produce in local markets, and watching how food held families and communities together. I never planned to become a chef, but life slowly led me into the kitchen.

After building Michelin Guide-recognised restaurants, writing and researching Anglo-Indian food, and travelling along the Maritime Silk Route, I began exploring how empire, trade, and migration continue to shape our tastes, memories, and identities.

I love telling food stories — sometimes around a supper table, sometimes through poetry. These days, I am building my next chapter around kari, not curry.

Chef Baby and her team at Curry Court in Pietermaritzburg, SA

Chef Baby and her team at Curry Court in Pietermaritzburg, SA

learn one, teach one

The Olympics has a relay race where one runner carries the baton for part of the journey, then passes it to the next person so the race can continue. I often think life and cooking are a bit like that.

Everything I have learnt — from village markets and restaurant kitchens to archives and journeys along the spice routes — was only possible because somebody shared something with me along the way. A recipe. A technique. A story. A memory. So now it feels natural to pass that knowledge forward to the next cook, the next student, and the next curious guest.

I have always enjoyed cooking for chefs. One day, I would love to build a chefs’ academy rooted in collaboration, shared knowledge, and learning across cultures and generations.

Close-up of a gourmet dish with a grilled fish fillet topped with a green sauce, garnished with microgreens, around it are small dollops of sauce, and two pieces of stuffed, fried plantains, on a white plate with a dark background.
Two bowls of poke salad on a wooden surface. The bowls contain chopped cucumbers, carrots, and fish, garnished with purple microgreens.
A table set for afternoon tea with a blue velvet armchair nearby. The table has a three-tiered stand with snacks, a silver teapot, and small candle holders. In the background, there is a wooden bookshelf with books and decorative items. The scene appears cozy and elegant.
Grilled steak with red bell pepper on a decorative plate, with greens and a side dish in the background.
A black plate with assorted tempura vegetables, garnished with microgreens and sliced onions, on a white table. There is a glass of beer and a bottle labeled "Anglo Ale" in the background.

the restaurant years

east india cafe

After working for a decade in hospitality, I co-founded my first restaurant in 2014 — a turning point that gave me the confidence to fully step into my role as chef patron, a journey that continued for more than six years. East India Cafe was never just a restaurant to us — it became part laboratory, part storytelling space, and part home.

“...the owners have meticulously researched the dishes favoured by the British between the 1880s and the 1940s... an appealing blend of innovation and authenticity... Do not be fooled by the word ‘café’ as this is very much a restaurant.” — Michelin Guide, 2019

It remains deeply meaningful to see how the restaurant continues to evolve today—holding on to the spirit of the original menu and concept, while growing into its next chapter.

memsahibs’ lounge

The energy of Memsahib’s pushed me far beyond my comfort zone, transforming what we once described as the world’s first “gin and tea bar” into a fully fledged restaurant — a blood-and-sweat evolution achieved without expensive kitchen equipment or exposed fire.

“...a stylish two-roomed basement in a smart Georgian terrace... the adjoining dining room has a clubby feel... the Indian dishes are for sharing... the ‘Experience’ tasting menu is perhaps the best way to go...” — Michelin Guide, 2026

Just a couple of years after Covid, I stepped away from day-to-day cooking, leaving behind a team shaped by our shared ethos, training, and years in the kitchen together. I returned to the road to continue another exploration of life — like a river finally seeing the vast ocean ahead.

pages from the journey

along the spice routes

Over nearly two years, I crossed 33 countries and 185 cities, covering roughly 60,000 miles while researching my next publication, From Kari to Curry: Masala, Memory and Migration — a mix of literature, travel, and culinary research exploring the soul of curry. Ironically, curry was the very thing I refused to cook or serve in my first restaurant.

These days, I find myself tracing how “curry” carried empire, memory, and migration across oceans.

Britain is still far behind when it comes to global culinary diplomacy, even though through trade and empire it helped turn curry powder into a global phenomenon. I began imagining a space to question what a “decolonised curry” could even mean, look like, or taste like.

from kitchen to page

Through sold-out culinary masterclasses and guests sharing generations of family recipe books, we slowly gathered the stories, memories, and flavours that became the Memsahib’s Lounge Cookbook. At its heart are our mothers.

“Life is a colourful journey and Memsahib’s Lounge is the fulfilment of a culinary dream that has travelled many thousands of miles... a loving tribute to the trail-blazing Anglo-Indian women, known as Memsahibs, who bridged cultural and geographic divides to introduce new and exciting flavours to the UK.” — Memsahib’s Lounge Cookbook: Small Plates and Celebrations

An artisan publication, the book was also featured at Hatchards, one of Britain’s oldest bookshops — a moment that quietly reminded me to keep writing.

Two men cooking in a kitchen, surrounded by various containers of spices and ingredients, with one chopping and the other preparing food.
People working on an art project in a cozy, rustic indoor space with wooden ceiling beams. One person kneels on the floor, creating a large black and red artwork with paper, while another sits nearby, organizing papers and craft supplies.
Two men are seated on blue plastic chairs having a conversation outdoors, while a group of women dressed in traditional attire sit cross-legged on the ground nearby, possibly involved in a communal activity or prayer, with a backdrop of trees and greenery.
Two men smiling and standing together under a sign that says "Welcome SISO Spice Farm" in Zanzibar, surrounded by trees and a dirt pathway.
A young man wearing a black face mask, grey t-shirt, pink shorts with a white patch, and tan shoes, standing outdoors in a makeshift market area. He is holding a bag of what appears to be dried goods or snacks, and has a backpack over one shoulder. Behind him, there are wooden tables, blue tarps, and makeshift buildings with rusty roofs, under a partly cloudy sky.

working together

culinary collaboration

Working across food, hospitality, and cultural research — from menu development and creative collaborations to culinary events and shared-table experiences.

health & wellbeing

An ongoing interest in how food, rest, movement, and slower living shape both personal wellbeing and kitchen culture — especially for the people who spend their lives feeding others.

supper club

Shared-table supper clubs bringing together food, memory, art, and conversation through collaborative dining experiences — with the next chapter launching in mid-2027.

মুখ ফুটে তোর মনের কথা একলা বলো রে...
Open thy mind and speak out alone...
— Rabindranath Tagore
  • I explore food through memory, migration, and storytelling. Sometimes that becomes a supper club, sometimes a research journey across spice routes, and sometimes simply a very good curry with a long backstory.

  • All three — though the washing up still happens like everyone else’s.
    My work sits between kitchens, archives, travel, and cultural storytelling.

  • Private dining, supper clubs, culinary consultancy, menu development, hospitality concepts and occasionally ambitious ideas that begin with: “This might sound slightly mad…

  • An ongoing exploration tracing how “kari” travelled through trade, empire, migration, and memory to become what much of the world now calls curry.

    Part memoir, part field journal, part culinary anthropology.

  • Because curry is more than a dish.
    It carries stories of migration, survival, adaptation, comfort, identity, and home — often all in the same pot.

  • Not at all. My roots are in Bengal, but my cooking has been shaped by life journeys, curiosity, and cravings. One day I might air fry kimchi and eat it with fava bean falafel, another day slow-cook curried goat with pilaf or Balkan breads. Sometimes it’s spicy Thai boat noodle soup, or East African ugali with a bit of pili pili. On Fridays, I can’t decide whether to make Bengali beef bhuna or Japanese curry for history’s sake, and by Sunday I’m happily thinking about a proper English roast.

    Food travels. So do people. I suppose my cooking simply followed the same route.

  • Through the contact page.
    Whether it’s a dinner, a collaboration, a talk, a cultural project, or simply a meaningful conversation over tea — feel free to get in touch.

What you seek is seeking you.
— Rumi