Vimala Rajendran“Accidentally” an Award-Winning Chef
A 25-year journey from an undocumented single mother 8,000 miles from home to the most decorated kitchen in Chapel Hill — and an unshakable belief that healthy food is a human right.
Vimala Rajendran calls herself an accidental chef — not because she believes in accidents, but because she never intended to pursue cooking as a career. She never went to culinary school or made any of the conscious preparations an aspiring chef would make. In her mind, a successful career lay in academic pursuits like education or political science, in both of which she excelled and earned degrees.
Still, from a very young age, her love of food and flavors was unmistakable. Her culinary education began in her mother's kitchen before she was tall enough to reach the counter without a stool. It continued in the local markets, where she would find vegetables her family had never heard of and bring them home to experiment.
A recipe sponge with an insatiable appetite for the new and different, she never forgot a tip or trick gleaned from aunties, grandmothers, neighbors and friends. Without intending to, simply by following her interest, she gained an encyclopedic knowledge of South Asian cuisine and mastered the spices and subtleties of the most complex cuisine on the planet. But a career in cooking never occurred to her.
Years later, she found herself 8,000 miles from home — an undocumented immigrant in the United States, a single mother of three, and a survivor of horrible domestic violence. Her education and degrees were useless without the proper documentation. She had no money, no family, no access to public assistance — only the confidence that God was with her.
Neighbors and friends recognized her culinary ability as an avenue for income and encouraged her to cook regular meals for them. The new career had begun. News spread by word of mouth, then a phone tree, and finally an email list that grew past a thousand names. Within a few years, her weekly meals drew 80 to 100 people who brought containers to take food home or grabbed a plate in the living room, basement, or yard. There was no price, no cash register — only a suggested donation and a colorful vase to receive the offerings. The donations were always enough.
One of her volunteer helpers, a fellow single parent and a carpenter with a knack for outdoor cooking, offered his propane stoves and gas grill. Overnight he set up a makeshift commercial kitchen on Vimala's front porch. The underground business reached another level — catering festivals and weddings, feeding crowds on the lawn at Weaver Street Market, on the UNC campus, at the Bolin Creek Festival.
I only serve to my guests the same healthy food that I feed my children. A commitment that holds true to this day
Vimala's family in India watched from afar with amazement and thanksgiving as their sister prospered. Their constant prayer was that this little underground business would blossom into a fully legitimate concern. We don't know if they had ever heard it said…
Be careful what you pray for!
A local coffee shop began weekend concerts on its back porch and needed vendors to bring food. Vimala's was served every other Friday to an appreciative crowd. Then one Friday afternoon, with the food already on its way, someone forwarded her menu email to the health department. (That carpenter was now her husband, and the food business his night-and-weekend job.) The phone rang.
“This is the health department. Are you planning to sell food at Johnny's tonight?” “Yes,” Vimala replied. “Do you have a permit?” “Do I need one?” “Oh yes, you do. You'll have to come in on Monday.”
The truck turned around. The underground business was closed. But the next day at the farmers market, Vimala told the story farmer to farmer — and the owner of a restaurant called “Sandwhich,” a devoted fan of her food, overheard. “So, are you looking for a place?” he asked. He was moving his business down the street and needed someone to take over the space. Maybe you should not be careful what you pray for after all.
In the spring of 2010, Vimala's Curryblossom Café opened in the old Sandwhich location, funded by gifts and loans from her community. The “Grand Blossoming” that July drew nearly a thousand people on a rainy day — helped along by Vimala's children, her husband's children and nephew, and none other than the new health inspector, a man of Indian descent there unofficially to celebrate a business that had grown close to his heart.
Chef Vimala has never wavered in her commitment to serve only the highest-quality healthy food. Her gratitude to the community that sustained her flows back as fundraisers and contributions to dozens of non-profit partners. An outspoken advocate for survivors of domestic violence, she has declared that healthy food is a human right and will not turn anyone away for lack of funds. During the pandemic she fed refugee families, elderly shut-ins, and front-line hospital workers — work that earned her the Orange County Pauli Murray Award.
She calls herself an accidental chef, but only to underscore that an unseen, benevolent hand beyond her control closed all the doors she thought she wanted to walk through — only to return her to that which truly was her first love. And that love is evident in every bite of food she serves.
Press & Accolades
For over fifteen years, Vimala's Curryblossom Café has been recognized for its food, its values, and its place at the heart of the Chapel Hill community.
Causes We Champion
The community sustained Vimala. She gives it back, every day.
Meet Our Local Vendors
Ninety percent of what we serve comes from these neighbors.
