“Soenil Revolution” was how Food Inspiration Magazine, an online publication for professional chefs, states. Soenil Bahadoer’s unique gastronomic creations have drawn gourmands from all over Europe – and beyond – to his two-Michelin-starred Restaurant De Lindehof, in the remote Dutch village of Nuenen.
Trained in classical French cuisine under legendary chefs in Belgium, France and the Netherlands, Soenil has been showered with culinary awards since he began incorporating elements from his Surinamese background into his dishes.
Reviewers rave about the subtle spiciness he has injected into haute European cuisine. In the Netherlands, he was named SVH Meesterkok (or Masterchef) in 2015. In 2021, he was ranked 58th in the International Chef Chef Awards. AND Gault & Millau guide fees De Lindehof a score of 17 out of 20, also naming Soenil Chef of the Year in 2020.
“Classic French cuisine is and always will be great,” he says. “But at a certain point in my career I got tired of the inevitable orange duck. I don’t feel at home with measured recipes, with rules and instructions. Feeling! This is what my kitchen is all about. What I do is look for the flavors. I want them to be more intense. They have to touch you.”
This commitment to emotion permeates his entire conversation. “Cooking is about making contact,” he says.
In contrast to celebrity TV “masterchefs” who swear and sweat in testosterone-fueled cooking competitions, Soenil sees food in terms of warmth and comfort, family and community. Attendees appreciate the welcoming atmosphere he creates at De Lindehof, personally welcoming guests at the door and helping to bring dishes to their table.
This looks the part of the Caribbean persona he has stuck to with tousled curls, gray jeans and sneakers under his boss jacket. Like its menu, it’s a mix: intense yet relaxed, loud as well as business-like, spontaneous yet reflective.
“The key to cooking is finding balance and harmony,” he says.
“Balance” seems to be his favorite word. It constantly negotiates tradition and innovation, experiences and trends, spontaneity and the pursuit of excellence.
“We have seven cultures in Suriname and 13 indigenous groups…” His eyes widen in surprise. “And all these flavors mix…”
ort De Lindehof, he uses this wide range of tradition and technique to weave an epicurean tapestry threaded with nuances of ancient tropical flavors. Amuse bouche follows amuse bouche between courses, each a delicate combination of shapes, colors and flavors – starters like king crab with caviar and phulauri (fulury); and main courses like lobster with okra and bitter melon chutney.
But when asked what his favorite food is, he chooses the simplest and most traditional food.
“My mother’s roti,” he says. “Home food is the best.”
He learned to cook from her, he says. And she still goes by the restaurant regularly to check on him.
“As a child, when I was bad, my mother used to put me under house arrest. She would smother me in the kitchen while all the other kids were outside playing. So I started watching how she grinds different spices to make masala and developed a knowledge of different aromas and effects.”
He often talks about his years as a child in rural Suriname, his hard work and his loving family. His family immigrated to the Netherlands when he was eight years old. Until then, he and his four siblings walked 10 miles to and from school and had to help on their parents’ farm when they got home.
But his memories of those days contain a kind of joy in the richness of his experiences. He talks about his father going hunting in the forest and fishing in the rivers of South America. You sense that’s what gave him a kind of pure appreciation of different food items, of what’s fresh and natural and straight from the source.
“We lived in my grandmother’s house,” he says. “The women used clay from the river behind the house to make an oven and cooked fish from the river with spices in a large cast iron pan. You never forget the smell of that cooking.”
To this day, he has ingredients and spices flown in from Suriname on a weekly basis.
“When I spot a mango,” he wrote in his book Spicy Chef, “Good manners go out the window. You just eat it with your hands, tear the skin with your teeth and knock yourself out.”
DConsidering the restrictions of the Coronavirus, when restaurants could not open, Soenil could not just sit on his hands. He designed a real food truck and sold food on the street. People came from Germany and lined up for two hours for it reed (“buns” made Surinamese style with lentil-based flour) filled with Wagyu beef and black truffle.
“They cost 65 euros each,” says Soenil. “But at least people who couldn’t afford to come to the restaurant could enjoy what we had to offer.” A six-course meal at his restaurant costs around 275 euros per person.
The food truck was featured on Dutch television’s evening news, with Soenil and his team of chefs making ” only with dance” they had invented from the absurd movements of Bollywood. Whatever Soenil does, he always returns home.
“I want to be true to myself,” he says. “You should never betray your culture. This makes you unique. This cannot be duplicated.”
This attitude has cost him. It took many years to gain acceptance in the upper echelons of haute cuisine. The high priests of European culinary guides didn’t understand what he was doing or how to rate his dishes.
“I couldn’t be judged by the traditional standards of French cooking,” he explains. “They couldn’t check my work against Escoffier, the bible of haute cuisine. But what mattered to me was that I did pakoras with lobsters. That was pioneering.”
Early in his career, even finding a job in the kitchen was difficult for someone from his background. It took 60 applications to get one. That’s why he now encourages people of all backgrounds and from anywhere in the world to apply for jobs in his kitchen.
“I don’t care that you don’t know everything,” he says. “What matters is that you have the drive for it they want to know everything. I’d like to give everyone the opportunity I’ve had to fight so hard to get.”
Some of the people he trained went on to receive Michelin stars in their restaurants. And they have also incorporated elements of their cultural background into their menus. Perhaps the phrase “Soenil revolution” is not so far-fetched after all.
