What I've Learnt: AD Singh

I CAN’T COOK WORTH A DAMN. That still surprises people. I can’t even fry an egg. I’m an engineer who became a restaurateur because I loved dessert.

I’VE ALWAYS HAD A SWEET TOOTH. My grandfather was once governor of Himachal and Jammu & Kashmir, and we had two chefs competing in the kitchen. I remember a dining table with a train made of chocolate. Maybe that’s where my obsession with Western desserts began. Only recently have I learnt to appreciate Indian ones.

WHEN I STARTED OUT, RESTAURANTS WEREN’T COOL. You didn’t take a date to a bar or tell your parents you were going out to eat. It wasn’t a scene. It was necessity.

MY FIRST RESTAURANT WAS BUILT ON A WHIM AND A HUNCH. In 1990, I’d quit my corporate job at Cadbury Schweppes and had no idea what to do next. I read about American cafés reopening at night under new management. I went around Bombay, pitching the idea to restaurant owners, and got thrown out of most places. Eventually, I convinced a Parsi café owner in South Bombay to let me take over his place at night. We walked in every evening with our own crockery, tablecloths and flowers. We called it Just Desserts—coffee, desserts and jazz. People went wild.

IF YOU’RE STARTING OUT. Don’t put your life savings into your first restaurant. Cover your ass. Failures happen even to veterans. Just make sure they don’t take you down with them.

AN EDUCATED CUSTOMER MAKES YOU A BETTER RESTAURATEUR. You can’t serve them shortcuts anymore—they can taste them.

OLIVE CHANGED HOW INDIA ATE OUT. When we opened in 2000, restaurants fit into neat boxes — bar, club or dining room. Olive broke that. It was everything at once: brunch spot, bar, dinner destination and dance floor. People came to celebrate, read, flirt or heal. That blend made it timeless.

THE HARDEST-AND-BEST LESSON I’VE LEARNT came from a line I once read: “The harder I work, the luckier I get.” That’s been the story of my life.

THE RESTAURANT BUSINESS IS A GRIND. It’s romantic from the outside, relentless from within. It takes grit, humour, and the ability to enjoy chaos. The best thing you can do as a leader is hire people who are better than you. My palate isn’t great. My wife’s is, my team’s is. That’s fine. I’m not the expert; I’m the enabler.

PEOPLE KEEP ME MOTIVATED, even after 30 years. The people I work with, the young chefs, bartenders, managers — they remind me what’s possible.

I’M CALLED A LEGEND SOMETIMES, AND IT MAKES ME LAUGH. I’m just a guy who worked hard, got lucky, and built something that mattered in a country growing up alongside me.

KINDNESS STILL SURPRISES ME. In Botswana, people leave their cars unlocked. Imagine that. I miss that kind of world where trust was the default, not the exception.

FOOD IS SECONDARY. My job has always been about people. You have to love watching people, reading them, understanding them. That’s what a good restaurateur really does—study happiness.

TRAVEL USED TO BE ABOUT DISCOVERY. Now it’s about slowing down. My wife’s the planner—I’m the tag-along. I don’t chase travel anymore. If I’m happy at home, that’s enough.

WHEN YOU’RE YOUNGER, you chase ambition. When you’re older, you chase balance. Real luxury for me now is time—time to read, to travel, to sit quietly, to be with my family.

BEING A FATHER LATE IN LIFE has been the most profound experience. I had my first child at 50. I’d already built my career and identity. Then suddenly, this tiny person arrives and rearranges everything.

NOT BEING ABLE TO FIX EVERYTHING is the hardest lesson as a parent. When my daughter struggled at school once, I realised there was nothing I could do to fix it. But that moment taught me the hardest lesson: you can’t live your kids’ lives. All you can do is be there—steady, present, loving.

THE SECRET TO CONNECTING WITH YOUR KIDS IS SHARING THEIR WORLD. I try to share my daughter’s interests — even if it means watching Gossip Girl every night. You learn to meet them where they are.

IF THERE’S ONE THING I MIGHT HAVE DONE DIFFERENTLY, it’s timing. I sometimes wish I’d married earlier, had children earlier.

BUT I’VE LIVED LIFE ON MY TERMS. I built something from nothing, gave back and found joy in simple things. I think that’s a pretty good place to be.

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