Two lifetimes of experience.

Business wasn't something Sarabjeet chose. It chose him before he was old enough to have a say in the matter.

Growing up in northern India, his summers belonged to the road. His father and uncle ran a wholesale distribution business — motor spares, retail, transportation — and from the moment he was old enough to travel, Sarabjeet was beside them. Not watching. Participating. Moving between cities, sitting across tables from manufacturers, taking orders, negotiating, learning how a deal is made and how a relationship is kept. Sometimes they would source goods and put their own brand on them. He didn't think of it as business education. It was just life.

Then the family business hit hard times, and the path he thought he was on simply disappeared.

He found himself boarding a plane to Dublin on 7th September 2001 — four days before the world changed forever. He was there to study Hotel Management. Four days after he arrived, 9/11 happened. As a Sikh, the climate that followed made his already uncertain start almost impossible. Nobody would rent him a room. For over a month, he lived in the Sikh temple. No complaints. No bitterness. Just quiet determination to get on with it. That temple gave him more than shelter. It gave him community. It gave him humility. And it taught him, unexpectedly, how to cook.

In 2005 he moved to the UK and threw himself into hospitality and sales. Marriott gave him his footing. When Marriott relocated its operations, he moved to Transport for London, starting at the bottom and working his way up to Contact Centre Manager.

Every day off was another working day. He was sourcing products from India, selling into the retail sector across the country, always moving, always building something on the side. When a friend offered him the chance to buy a small company called Universal Procure, he took it without hesitation. For the first time in his life, every side hustle had a home.

Seven years ago a remarkable invitation came his way — the Japanese government asked him to attend Japan's first International Food Fair, to experience and help promote Japanese food culture on a world stage. He came back with a deeper understanding than ever of what food truly means when it is taken seriously.

Kuljit Singh understood discipline before he understood almost anything else.

The son of an Indian Army officer, his childhood moved wherever his father's postings took the family — city to city, base to base, across the length and breadth of India. It was a life of structure and precision and deep respect.

But underneath all that order lived something warm and abundant. He came from Punjab — where food is not a meal but a declaration of love. Growing up between the discipline of Army life and the generosity of Punjabi food culture gave Kuljit something rare — a precise mind and a generous heart.

After completing his Hotel Management diploma, instead of rushing towards the first job available, he spent a year on a motorbike crossing India from one end to the other. Punjab to Kerala. Delhi to Rajasthan. He ate in roadside dhabas and family homes and market stalls and small restaurants. He wasn't travelling for pleasure. He was learning. Every region told its story through food.

He trained in New Delhi at two of India's most prestigious five-star establishments before making the move to the United Kingdom. At Conrad London he rose steadily from Chef de Partie to Senior Chef de Partie. At Wyndham Grand he sharpened a financial precision that made him as valuable to a boardroom as to a kitchen, bringing food costs down to figures that made finance directors look twice. Then came The Chelsea Harbour Hotel, where he became Senior Head Chef — cooking for Premier League footballers, international rugby squads, tennis stars and dignitaries.

Marriott came next, and his career reached its summit. Multi-Property Executive Head Chef across Marriott Marble Arch and Marriott Kensington. Then a seat on Marriott's UK and Ireland Food and Beverage select committee — advising on culinary strategy across the entire division.

Along the way, the country caught a glimpse of him when he appeared as a MasterChef: The Professionals contestant. Covid-19 ended that journey earlier than anyone would have chosen, but the talent the cameras had already seen was unmistakable.

Fresh ingredients. Local produce wherever possible. Food made with genuine intention. A kitchen culture built on mentorship rather than pressure. These are not professional positions for Kuljit. They are personal ones.