The March cover of Bon Appetit features sunderkala, a take on a North Indian noodle dish at Naar, a restaurant in the Himalayan foothills. Getting to the 16-seat, tasting menu restaurant required equal parts logistics, fortitude, and luck. In fact, I didn’t even make it to the restaurant until my second attempt.
My first planned trip was in late 2023, just a few weeks after chef Prateek Sadhu unveiled his ambitious 16-seat restaurant in Himachal Pradesh. A thick fog that descends over many North Indian cities in December is notorious for flight disruptions, and so I wasn’t terribly shocked when my phone buzzed en route to the airport with news that my domestic flight from Hyderabad to Chandigarh, the closest major airport, was canceled.
In the fall, when the weather in India is more cooperative, I decided to try again. This time, logistics and luck were in my favor, and the fortitude came in handy during a dizzying three-hour ride to Himachal Pradesh, flying through hairpin turns on steep roads, as a thick mist churned over the mountains. The sky-high drive is an atmospheric glimpse into quotidian life in India’s Himalayas: I skimmed through tiny one-lane villages, passed roadside Maggi noodle stands with dreamy views, and glimpsed temples and houses etched precariously into the emerald slopes.
Sadhu found a home for his passion project at someone else’s: In 2022, entrepreneur Deepak Gupta realized a dream by opening Amaya, a 25-acre boutique hotel designed by celebrated Mumbai-based architect Bijoy Jain. Inspired by the natural environment, Gupta envisioned a retreat that blended seamlessly into the area’s farm terraces. The 15 limestone cottages have ivy-draped patios and sleek, minimalist interiors inspired by Jain’s sustainability-driven ethos. Art and furniture from Gupta’s own personal collection is scattered throughout. You don’t have to stay at Amaya if you want to dine at Naar—the reservations team can guide diners to a number of nearby guesthouses or rental villas—but one glimpse at the stunning horseshoe-shaped infinity pool overlooking the pine-clad hills rippling far into the distance, and it’s impossible to imagine staying anywhere else.
Many diners at Naar have been planning quick trips with their eye on the prize—in addition to dinner service, Sadhu’s team introduced lunch to cater to visitors looking to break up the drive from Chandigarh to Shimla with a stopover for a meal. But I’d argue you’d need a few days at Amaya to really understand the forces that over and over have beckoned Sadhu back to the mountains. The light hits differently here, a silvery glow that dissolves into gold as the sun cavorts through its day. The air feels different, too—pristine, crisp, and a welcome reprieve from the pollution choking India’s congested metropolises.
And the food: My 15-course dinner at Naar may have been one of the highlights of my year, but my meals at Amaya were no less memorable. From the best hotel breakfast I’ve ever had, rooted in local Himalayan flavors—a steamed bao with a rich mushroom and sorrel chutney and sornu nashasta, a congee-like bowl of overcooked rice topped with mushrooms, chilli crisp, bok choy, spring onions, and pan-fried garlic—to a Mediterranean feast for lunch, complete with saffron chicken kebabs that burst on my tongue like juicy flavor bombs, paired with the most potent shatta and toum this side of the Levant. And then there were the most perfect madeleines, served so hot that each bite melted onto my tongue before dissolving completely with a sip of my cappuccino. Meals at Amaya and Naar complement each other beautifully, telling different chapters of the Himalayan story.
