Floyd Cardoz, an international restaurateur and the first chef to bring the sweep and balance of his native Indian cooking to fine dining in the United States, died on Tuesday at Mountainside Hospital in Montclair, N.J. He was 59.
The cause was the coronavirus, his family said. Read full Obituary here from the NYT here.
It was 1998 when I first heard of and tried Floyd Cardoz's food at Tabla in NYC. It was also about the time that I had begun my own career in the world of food. US News and World Report wanted to do a feature on Indian cuisine and the journalist wanted to use me as her case study. As flattered as I was, I knew it wrong to have a story on the growing influence of Indian cuisine in America focus on me, when the true trailblazer, paving the way of Indian cuisine, was Floyd. Doing a fusion of Indian and French cuisines, in an earnest fashion, with delicious flavors, in a gorgeous setting, with Danny Meyer and his Union Square Hospitality Group as the backer, and with world class service and a beverage program that could rival the best in NYC. I alerted the journalist to Floyd and Tabla, she quoted me, a part time caterer then, as her expert on Indian cuisine and did her story on the changing journey of Indian food, with Floyd as the feature, and my quote. She never forgot my saying no to being a feature in a story, Floyd would never stop thanking me for that, and I can never stope being grateful to Floyd, for having opened Tabla with Danny, and bringing India its first glorious moment in the annals of culinary history in New York City.
Floyd worked hard, with his trademark gorgeous smile, teaching and mentoring hungry chefs about spice and flavor in his incredible kitchen under his peerless tutelage, aying the foundation for what would become a most pivotal moment in the journey of American Cuisine. The spice that Floyd added to American dining was an important one that helped create what we might term today as New American Cuisine.
I left retail becoming a full time cooking teacher, caterer and then chef and restaurant owner. I chose to do unabashedly Indian cuisine in my first two restaurants. Food that couldn't have gotten the reception it got from critics and customers had Tabla not shared its Indian-Fusion cuisine before.
Tabla gave the much needed bridge between the bastardized goopy-gloppy-greasy and cheap and cheery buffet table cuisine that people assumed was the length and breath of Indian cuisine, and what we are now discovering as the regional and seasonal, light and flavorful, fresh and incredibly nuanced cuisines of the Indian sub-continent.
Floyd didn't cook Indian in his early career but he certainly is responsible for putting India proudly on the NY food map. Like Madhur Jaffrey and Julie Sahni gave the world of Indian cookbooks a kickstart, Floyd did the same with the world of Indian restaurants.
Any cause that mattered found a willing partner and host at Floyd's restaurants. He was never too busy to lend his name, kitchen restaurant and ideas for good work that would help others. Through his generosity and kindness, with his true mentoring of his chefs and staff, he gave India and Indian cuisine a place of pride in NYC food circles, and through that in the US as a whole.
I remember doing events at Tabla with Madhur Jaffrey and Julie Sahni at his side. Celebrating India, showcasing the plurality and diversity in which India truly breathes and dances, and its culinary creations. He often provided the platform from which you showcase Indian cuisine, or was found at others where the same was happening.
We did food and wine festivals together in NY and other cities. He always met most graciously and warmly, making it a point to come taste my food and bring me a bite of his. He always extended an invite to his restaurant and asked after Charlie. Barkha his enormously beautiful and gracious wife, would be there at some and like him, be a beaming presence of poetry in motion and on legs. They had grace that was peerless, together and as individuals. Floyd's love for Barkha was doting and absolute. You could see it in both their eyes. His love for his boys Peter and Justin was similarly committed and resolute. He was a father who cared, who wanted to be present, and who participated in their world. I would never leave an event having met him, where I had not learned something new about the goings on in Barkha and his kids' lives.
Floyd was a great chef, of that we have no doubt. It is as important to note that he was equally as great a husband and father. It was these details that made me warm up to him. A rare feat for me, as I always shied away from chefs. I felt a pariah around them, having had no formal training, and gotten into the food business by accident at age 20. It was Floyd's humanity, that outshone his culinary talents, that made him a man I could consider a friend. We were tickled finding each other at the set of Bravo's Top Chef Masters, Season 3. Two brown men, with very different view points and takes on cuisine (at that time he was still doing his brand of fusion and I was still doing unabashed Indian), both from India, on a small set. But, it was comfort from the get go.
I had sworn to Charlie and my PR Team that I would leave the set of TCM if I found such silly ingredients like candy given me. There I was, staring them in the eye, my first challenge on the show.
It must have been that beautiful soulful smile on Floyd's face, I know it had to be that, which made me take the challenge head-on, and make a chaat out of the crap given me. A chaat that even Ruth Reichl, one of the doyennes of food criticism quite liked. It ended up being the reason I survived the elimination round. A round where I ended up being the winning contrast to the dish prepared by another that had them packing and gone.
I had been saved, but at that very first episode, I had understood why I had refused to be on the show on Season 2. It was these gimmicky bits that had me totally not interested. The bruise I was left with was a distrust of the show, and food tv as a whole. I had lost the smile that I came with, even though Floyd was carrying his most handsomely. If he could smile, if he could take the near-racist judging shown him during a cheese-pairing round, I knew I had to be a much more generous man myself, and keep my pride at bay.
In between our rounds of competing on camera against each other, Floyd came to me and asked if I could share recipes for the chutneys I had made, and for a sauce I prepared. There were ingredients in the Tamarind Chutney that he could recognize, but was unable to identify. These ingredients he said, made him want my recipe for the Tamarind and Green chutneys. Of course I shared them with him, and when eliminated, left all my Indian spices and ingredients with him, even the prized pickle I had made on set, for an occasion when I might need it. He was most gracious as he accepted them. His look told me he knew I was returning to peace as I left the set.
Floyd ended up becoming Top Chef Master's winner that season. No small feat. He was competing against an incredible line up of chefs. Each one a champion, an incredible human being, and each armed with experience that was nothing to question or think small. His win came as a shock to some but not a surprise to any of us.
In winning Season 3 of Top Chef Masters, Floyd Cardoz had given India and Indian cuisine another reason to be proud and grateful to him.
Floyd had called to congratulate me when my first cookbook came out. His words could not have been more gracious. That was Floyd. I urged him to write a book. Almost a year later I got a message asking if I had time to chat briefly. It was about One Spice, Two Spice. His beautiful cookbook, authored with the brilliant and able Jane Lear.
I remember telling him how upset some had been that I had given Stephanie Lyness my co-writer equal credit in my first book. How that had robbed me and the book consideration for many awards. He heeded my advice, though like me, he too wanted to give equal credit. But he understood how in end it would benefit the book, the co-writer and him equally, and most of all, further his goal to share the brilliance of Indian spices and aromatics, flavors and tastes.
Both books, One Spice, Two Spice and Flavorwalla, bring bold flavors and familiar dishes to the table in ways that are at once comforting and known.
Both books furthered the journey that Indian food is still making towards mainstreaming in the US.
Here Floyd is standing next to Jonathan Waxman, a much loved NYC chef. Someone whose food is as comforting as the best that one can name. A legend, and an exalted culinarian. He was effusive in his respect and praise for Floyd after hearing of his passage a few hours ago. Is anyone surprised? Not I!
Floyd was a chef who had trained with Gray Kunz and considered this giant his mentor and teacher. In an odd way, its curious to see Floyd pass away so soon after Kunz's passing. At least this harsh coincidence ensures that they will be eating well, and doing wonderful things in their new heavenly journey.
Floyd's journey wasn't all easy. Not all made up of purple prose. He was a trailblazer. He cooked food that was ahead of its time. Food that was sumptuous and delectable. Food that was a mirror to his soul and his place in life in this world.
But was the world ready to see food that represented the utopian view of a global village? Where the world looked like a mosaic that came together brilliantly with parts that were each unique, but in their unison only shone with a glow impossible to match otherwise. It wasn't read then, it wasn't when I opened Tapestry, and it is reluctant still.
The closure of Table and North End Grill were challenging to him, but Floyd had the ability to understand that these were closures that had nothing to do with him. They were not a reflection on his talents, not a critique of his skills, but simply a statement on the times we lived in. It takes courage to smile and remain composed in the face of adversity. Floyd showed courage and grace like few did, smiling bigger, bolder, and better than most would.
In keeping his calm, in being steadfast to his cuisine and vision, and in discovering his hunger to study the food of his homeland, Floyd again brought India another victory. In finding his roots, in discovering his India again, in his restaurants in Bombay, I saw in Floyd a new vigor, grit and savvy. His work changed, his food became Indian, but his resolve and passion remained resolute in chasing quality and flavor.
His restaurants brought to the cuisine of India a clean and fresh approach to classics. Novelty in India, but truer to the India that we are marching towards as we move to Indian Cuisine 2.0, which might emerge in a few years.
Even in his tragic and sudden passing, Floyd's work has already assured him a legacy that will not be forgotten. Floyd has left an impact on Indian cuisine the world over. His has been cheffing that was equal parts cooking, mentoring, executing, vision, creating, crafting, and trailblazing.
Many chefs get stars and awards, pen books, appear on shows, become celebrities, but few truly make advancements in the journey of food as a whole. Floyd did just that.
I end this with a heavy heart. My heart goes out to Barkha, Peter, Justin, your mum and siblings. This tragic loss is even heavier for them to handle than the rest of us that knew Floyd and loved his food.
Floyd, you shall live on through your food, the love you gave all, the mentoring you did of incredible chefs of today, and those who will rise to great heights tomorrow. Most of all, it is your deeds, and the breadth of their reach that shall always keep you alive in countless hearts and minds. RIP, Floyd. You were a class act in life, and will remain through your ever-prevailing and lasting legacy.
Floyd Cardoz: Chef/Son/Husband/Father/Mentor/Boss/Friend = Mensch
PS: Floyd was an avid gardener. This is one of the roses he tended. Follow his account on Instagram to learn more about Floyd, his food, his restaurants, family and passions.
PS2: The Bombay Canteen
PS3: O Pedro, Mumbai
Thank you for taking such time to craft a beautiful remembrance of Floyd. I truly enjoyed your personal insights.
Posted by: JOHN BELLOMO | Thursday, March 26, 2020 at 08:52 AM
That is a beautiful tribute Suvir!
Such sad news. You are right about his smile, it was one of a kind. I have so many wonderful memories of him, Tabla, and his love of barbecue too!
I hope that you and Charlie are well!
Elizabeth Karmel
Posted by: Elizabeth A. Karmel | Thursday, March 26, 2020 at 06:01 PM