
PHOTO SHOOT + ARTICLE
By Anu Patel & Zara Sirguroh
Models
Zara Sirguroh
Stylists
Anu Patel, Elijah Allen
Photographer
Dillon George
Appetizer
Zara Sirguroh is a recent Rutgers alum, pastry chef, menu and cookbook consultant, recipe developer, food writer, and innovator. She is, in every sense, someone who lives and breathes food — not as an industry, but as a language.
Entrée
Tell me about how you've grown up — anything notable in your childhood you've carried into adulthood?
Cooking was the first language I ever knew. It was the first and probably only thing I've ever been really good at and it's all I ever wanted to do. My mom is a fantastic cook and I spent a lot of my childhood watching her do what she does. She primarily cooked Indian and Middle Eastern food, so for the longest time I tried to cook everything else.
I sliced my pinkie when I was seven making beet chips at one in the morning behind my parents' backs. That probably tells you everything you need to know about my relationship with cooking — it was always a little bit obsessive, a little bit secret, completely irresistible.

My parents were opposed at first. They wanted me to be a doctor. But I ran a micro bakery called "Zarberries" during COVID — that was junior and senior year of high school — and throughout college I worked as a line cook, did private dinners, took cake commissions, developed menus, worked pop-ups. Eventually my parents saw the commitment and the dedication, and they came around.
Do you have any unusual entities or objects that inspire you? Any general sources of inspiration?
Chef Hannah Musante — she's @Salamigetthisstraight on Instagram — is one of the most talented people in the industry. I also love going to farmers markets and cool grocery stores and just finding new ingredients. There's something about holding a fruit or vegetable you've never seen before that makes your brain start working.

What is so special about food as a medium of expression? In what ways do you think food gatherings shape relationships?
Food is the most approachable medium of self-expression there is. People can live without painting, or making music, or expressing themselves in any other capacity. It would be a soulless life but you could survive. Everyone's got to eat. I think sharing a plate is the best way to foster connection. Breaking bread, you know.
When someone shares a meal with you, it's completely altruistic. They've taken time, energy, resources — and they've transformed them into something for you. There's no other act quite like it.
The food industry is saturated with incredibly talented individuals who don't make enough money. But they keep doing it because the act of feeding someone — really feeding them, with intention and care — is its own reward.

Do you notice quirks about yourself that play a large role in your work?
I get frantic when I'm cooking for special occasions or special people. I need space — physical and mental. I pull a lot of inspiration from film and music. I've used entire albums and movies to design cakes. The mood, the color palette, the rhythm — it all translates.
What's the coolest thing you've seen lately?
Precious Renee Tucker — she's an experimental piano and synth musician who plays on a round table of pianos with her forearms. It's unreal. The physicality of it, the sound — it's like watching someone have a conversation with an instrument.
Do you ever get overwhelmed in your creative avenues?
Financial stability is the big one. The creative life doesn't come with a safety net. When I'm overwhelmed, I use stimulants and notepads — I draw abstract shapes, clear my kitchen, and create something pretty with whatever I have on hand. It's about returning to the basics. Stripping away the noise and just making something.

What troubles you?
Outfit anxiety, pre-arthritis, rooms with too many mirrors or lack thereof, pork, bright lights that make me feel like a hot dog at a 7/11, who's on tour, if my shoe selection is esoteric or played-out, when I will drink my next pint, what everyone in the room is thinking about me.
Is there something you want to talk about but can never quite work into a conversation?
Mold. I always want to talk about mold. Edible mold — like koji — is the closest you can get to alchemy in food. You're literally transforming one substance into another through controlled decomposition. It's magic. Also Dr. Arielle Johnson, a food scientist specializing in flavor chemistry and sensory perception. Her work is groundbreaking and not enough people know about it.
What direction do you see yourself moving toward in your career, education, or lifestyle?

I don't fucking know. I just want to be happy and hopefully I can do something that isn't completely backbreaking. My body is wearing down already and I'm at the tender age of 22.
Do you think your experience as a chef makes you behave or see things differently in your day to day?
Definitely, I think it's made me worldlier. You deal with every type of person in a kitchen. A lot of assholes and a lot of incredibly interesting characters. It forces you to be patient and it forces you to develop a degree of intimacy that doesn't exist outside of that space.
Any advice about anything at all?
Never kill yourself. And also eat well — food is hell. Food is fuel. You're with these people for 8-12 intense hours, you're seeing each other at your worst and most stripped down and vulnerable and then your shift is over and it stops mattering. But you also share a bond that's so wholesome because it's like, you have to make those hours fun. Who else are you gonna talk to about work you know?

Essential item?
Glasses. Can't see without 'em.
Dessert
Thank you, Zara. For the conversation, for the honesty, for the koji evangelism. You can find her cake designs, restaurant gigs, platings, and fermentation experiments on Instagram at @frankfurtersauce.

