There was a time when sushi in India needed an introduction before it could be served. This was not the perfunctory explanation that accompanies a tasting menu today, but a real one. What is this? Why is the fish raw? Why is the rice seasoned? Why should it be eaten this way? When Chef Augusto Oliveros Cabrera arrived in India in 2004 after being handpicked to be the Master Sushi Chef at the newly launched 360° at The Oberoi, New Delhi, sushi was still treated with a mixture of curiosity and caution. It belonged largely to hotel dining rooms, expatriate tables and a small circle of Indians who had travelled enough to meet it elsewhere.
 

For many diners, the first encounter was not love at first bite. It needed persuasion. Chef Augusto understood this early. He did not begin by lecturing guests on tradition. He began by watching them eat. Indians, he noticed, liked crunch, heat, texture and generosity. So he built a bridge. Tempura rolls, spicy sauces made not with Indian masalas but Japanese seasonings such as togarashi, lightly marinated tuna with lemon, salmon that had just enough familiarity to make raw fish seem less intimidating. The sushi arrived in stages - first crisp, then cured, and then raw.
 

“The first time they would come, I would serve that. The second time, I would make them try marinated fish. The third time, I would make them try raw fish,” he recalls.
 

In that slow progression sits a small history of how sushi found its place in India for it did not enter as a fixed, purist object. It was translated, without being entirely transformed. It needed chefs who knew the grammar of Japanese cooking but also understood the appetite of a new audience. Two decades later, this audience has changed almost beyond recognition with diners willing to spend a pretty buck. At BOYA, New Delhi, his latest venture co-founded with Bhawya Sahu, Chef Augusto recalls how four diners spent nearly ₹4 lakh on a meal, centred largely on sushi featuring prized cuts such as akami from premium bluefin tuna.

On the occasion of International Sushi Day, it is also interesting to note that the dish is no longer an exotic outlier in India’s big cities. It sits comfortably on delivery menus, hotel buffets, date-night counters and luxury omakase experiences. What was once explained is now photographed, debated and ranked. A generation raised on global travel, streaming culture, anime, manga, Japanese design, matcha, ramen bars and quietly ritualistic dining has made Japanese food part of its lifestyle vocabulary.

This is not just about sushi becoming popular. It is about Japanese culture becoming familiar. For younger Indian diners, Japan is no longer a distant culinary reference point. It is an aesthetic world. It is precision, restraint, craft and cool. It is the charm of a bento box, the silence of a sushi counter, the drama of a chef’s knife, the discipline of doing one thing properly. Social media has accelerated this fascination, but it has not created it from nothing. The new diner wants experience, but also provenance. They want to know where the fish comes from, why one cut of tuna tastes different from another, why ginger is not meant to sit on top of nigiri, why soy sauce is not a dipping bath for rice.

Chef Augusto has spent much of his career answering exactly these questions. At BOYA, his latest venture in Malcha Marg, New Delhi, this education continues in a more assured register. The restaurant is built around Japanese-Peruvian cuisine, shaped by Chef Augusto’s long-standing interest in Nikkei flavours. 

The food moves between Japan’s precision and Peru’s brightness. The paper thin hamachi carpaccio in Augusto ceviche, Hokkaido scallops with yuzu miso, the indulgent kanpachi (belly) nigiri, Atlantic salmon in leche de tigre, the opulent special temaki with bluefin akami, chutoro, tempura bits and tamari reduction; and the quiet luxury flavour bomb of Uni & Hotate nigiri with Oscietra caviar, all sit within a language he has been refining for years. The space itself complements this mood as BOYA leans in more towards refined luxury. Heavy curtains, marbled floors, textured walls, chandeliers and an open kitchen create a room that feels staged for the main event - the food. You are meant to see the hands that make the food.
 

That is especially true of the omakase. The format, now increasingly sought after by India’s well-travelled diners, would have been difficult to execute in India at this level a decade ago. Chef Augusto says the difference is not merely demand but supply. Earlier, ingredients were inconsistent, suppliers were limited, and importing premium seafood from Japan was a challenge. Today, he works with suppliers who bring in fresh Japanese ingredients multiple times a week, depending on orders. This shift has changed what a chef can attempt and what a diner can expect.
 

The omakase experience at BOYA draws you into the craft behind the food, making you appreciate not just what is served, but why it is served that way. Priced at ₹25,000 (plus taxes) per diner, it is an intimate experience of up to six diners, where the chef explains the fish, the cut, the order, the method. A piece of nigiri is not merely placed in front of the guest but all its aspects are introduced. 

For Chef Augusto, that matters. Sushi, he says, is art. He adds, “It hurts a sushi chef when someone takes a nigiri and breaks it apart. We are making art. You should pick it up with your hands or chopsticks. Don't use a knife and fork and break it apart.”
 

India’s sushi story has always depended on this negotiation between tradition and adaptation. Chef Augusto’s early signature rolls helped open the door. His later work, including at restaurants such as Town Hall and now BOYA, has pushed the conversation further. Many of the guests who first came to him through their parents now arrive with their own expectations, their own memories of Tokyo, Dubai, London or New York, and their own appetite for something new. The circle of diners has most definitely widened.
 

If the first phase of sushi in India was about acceptance, the current one is about discernment. Diners no longer ask only whether they like sushi. They ask what kind, whose version, which fish, which counter, which experience. Sushi’s journey from novelty to culture says much about the way urban India eats today. It reflects a diner who is globally curious, visually alert and increasingly informed, and now willing to spend more for provenance, craft and the theatre of a truly memorable meal.