The Culinary Lounge Founder Gopi’s Mission Is To Put Telugu Cuisine On World Map

“My mom is from Coastal Andhra, Kakinada, and my dad is from Rayalaseema,” he says, smiling at the contrast. “Even today I wonder how that marriage happened—two extreme food cultures.” When his father decided to settle in Tirupati, the family kitchen absorbed yet another influence. “Tirupati sits on the Tamil Nadu border, so there was Tamil food, Coastal Andhra food, Rayalaseema food—all of it coming together. Our kitchen was a fusion space without trying to be one.”

That kitchen became his classroom. As a child in a joint family, Gopi spent hours there, watching, listening, and eventually experimenting. “By the age of seven, I started doing my own experiments and spoiling my mom’s curries,” he laughs. “Finally she told me, ‘You do your thing separately. Don’t spoil my curry.’” What stayed with him wasn’t just technique, but emotion. “I noticed something very important. Outside the kitchen, people could be angry. Inside the kitchen, never. Good food makes people calm—that was my first life lesson.”

From his mother, he learned that food was never about formality. “She personalised everything. If a guest was coming, she would ask, what does this person like? Coffee or tea? Vegetarian or non-vegetarian?” Over time, Gopi realised that food was an act of empathy. “Food is all about the other person. It’s not about me serving you—it’s about understanding you.” He also observed how energy travels through food. “If my mom cooked with happiness, people relished it more. The quality of emotion goes into the experience.”

That philosophy became his foundation. “I am not a graduate from any hospitality school. My foundation was my kitchen.” In 2013, that foundation turned into an experiment. “We thought of inviting 10 strangers home for dinner,” he recalls. His mother was skeptical. Why would strangers come and pay to eat at home? Still, they tried. “Nine people showed up. Each paid ₹500. That’s when it clicked.” What began as a simple idea evolved into India’s first supper club movement. “People started saying, ‘I have a farm, can I host?’ ‘I want to showcase Iyengar food.’ We trained nearly 55 home chefs.” For Gopi, the real success was impact. “Some are running cloud kitchens now, some catering, some snack businesses. That makes me very happy.”

His motivation, however, has never changed. “How do strangers sit together and connect?” he asks. “My philosophy is simple—never eat alone. Food is the best icebreaker. I call it a universal social lubricant.” He says he has met nearly a thousand strangers over meals alone. “Even today, I would rather eat with a stranger than eat alone.”

This belief shapes his larger vision for regional cuisine. “Food is a huge reason people travel,” he explains. “One in five travellers chooses destinations based on food.” Yet Telugu cuisine, he feels, lacks a clear global identity. “People say India and think of butter chicken or biryani. Telugu food is seen as just spicy or greasy, which is not true.” His ambition is bold. “In the next five years, I want one Telugu sub-cuisine to get global heritage recognition.”

Instances like Gongura appearing on international menus reaffirm that belief. “These are proud moments,” he says. “But it should become normal. Every delegate coming to Telangana should taste this land’s food.”

That idea took shape at the recent global summit in Hyderabad, where local Telangana snacks replaced generic cookies. “We selected five dishes, each with a story,” Gopi explains. “Adivasi women made Ippa Puvvu laddus. Makka Pyalulu came from Kamareddy. Sakinalu and Chakkalu made by women from rural families.” Each delegate received food along with its story. “They read, tasted, talked. That’s pride. That's a memory.”

Beyond cuisine, Gopi uses food as a tool for learning and wellness. In his experiential kitchens, corporate teams learn leadership, equality, and storytelling. “Without storytelling, nobody can succeed today,” he says. Children, meanwhile, learn something even more fundamental. “We don’t teach recipes. We teach respect for the kitchen and how to deal with failure.” He pauses before adding, “Nobody teaches us how to fail. That’s where anxiety begins.”

His work now extends into building ecosystems—accelerators for food entrepreneurs, collaborations with governments, and deep research projects about Telugu cuisines like Onamalu. “We have documented nearly 1,000 recipes across Telugu states,” he says. “But more than recipes, we document stories.” For Gopi, these stories are economic tools. “If people know Palasa cashew’s story, they will visit Palasa. That’s how rural economies grow.”

At the heart of it all is a simple belief. “Food is soft power,” he says. “It connects, heals, teaches, and creates identity.” And as he continues his work, one thing remains non-negotiable: “I want people to smell it, taste it, and remember Telangana wherever they go.”