At the end of the main dining room, opposite the kitchen, is a framed photo on the wall is a photo that looks, at first glance, like something out of a church or an art history textbook. Thirteen chefs at a long table: Chef Samir Dhurandhar in the center, flanked by friends and colleagues, the people who shaped the city’s dining scene. It’s Dallas’s Last Supper, minus the betrayal.
“I saw something like this in San Miguel,” says Samir. “A photo of all the top chefs in Mexico, just sitting around this long table. And I thought, why can’t we do that?” So he did.
We're at Nick & Sam’s. The lights are up, and I eye the photo at the opposite end, as the clink of prep echoes from the kitchen. Samir is sitting across from me in a black T-shirt at a white tablecloth table that, in a couple hours, will be covered in steaks, sides and cocktails.
I get a closer look at the photo, taken by Bill Stipp. Sure, it looks like a playful culinary take on The Last Supper. It's more than a who's who of Dallas dining — it shows how far the dining scene spreads.
To Samir's right is John Tesar, who is receiving a wine glass from Teiichi Sakurai of Tei-an. The photo — a gesture rich with meaning, as Tesar previously called his spiritual mentor. I spy Nick Badovinus of Town Hearth. Samir, standing next to me, points to Badovinus in the photo and says, “He was my sous chef when we opened Nick & Sam's,” Samir says. “He pushed me hard. He made me better.”
The rest of photo is filled out with more culinary luminaries: Taylor Kearney, Gerard Thompson, Omar Flores of Whistle Britches and Even Coast, John Kleifgen, executive chef at Nick & Sam's, Jimmy Park of Shoyo, Stephan Pyles of The Seeker, Greg Katz, owner of Beverly's, Jin Hong and Leo Kekoa of Kinzo in Frisco, and Tiffany Derry of Roots Chicken Shak, Roots Southern Table and Radici Wood Fired Grill. The idea of all these folks getting together for a photo shoot blows my mind.
The chefs in the photo span generations. Some came up before Samir, some came up under him, some were mentored by him and some are his closest friends.
That photo isn’t just a flex. There are some omissions — chefs who couldn't make it due to scheduling — but it's a timeline of a city whose culinary reach has spread to the surrounding cities, counties, from Dallas to Plano, where Samir has long called home, and beyond to Frisco.
And sitting there in the center, Samir looks exactly like what he is: a bridge between generations, between the old Dallas and the one still coming into focus.
Samir’s voice softens when he talks about that earlier generation that includes himself. There’s admiration, yes, but also pride — and a sense of being part of something unrepeatable. “Back then,” he says, “Dallas didn’t have a food scene. Not really. You celebrated with a steak. Nobody said, ‘Let’s go out for Southwestern food.’ It was always a steakhouse.”
But that’s changed. Dallas changed. And Samir kept up.
"I've always believed in sticking to what we do, but do it a little better or come up with something in that same realm to see," Samir says. "So many people are moving from out of town here, and they're coming with knowledge about food.
Where can we go? What can we do that's different? How can we always surprise people? These are questions Samir continually asks himself, all these years later as Nick & Sam's passes its 25th anniversary. And that is what he continually does, whether that's making an excellent butter chicken or creating a massive wagyu hot dog. He has a drive to not only excel at steaks and sides, but to do something different.
"I always feel I'm not as good as the next chef," Samir says. "And I always feel I've got to get better — even now. I know there are so many better chefs — better chefs than me — but I want to get to that next level, and I want people to recognize me as a great chef. And that drives me to get better."
"I always feel I've got to get better — even now."
That kind of curiosity, that hunger to surprise, even after three decades in the kitchen, is what keeps Nick & Sam’s relevant. That, Samir believes, is part of the job now — not just cooking, but mentoring. “No one’s pushing me,” he says. “So I’ve got to push myself. And maybe, in the process, I’m pushing other people, too.”
The chefs in the photo are doing their own things: running kitchens, opening spots in Frisco and Plano and everywhere in between. But Dallas is still the center. The place you come back to.
There’s talk of doing another photo next year. Maybe with the old crew. Maybe with the new wave. “But I’m still sitting in the middle,” Samir grins. “That’s non-negotiable.”
Samir is proud of where Dallas and the surrounding cities are going. The restaurants, the talent, the willingness of diners to try something new. “Twenty-five years ago, nobody would drive across town for Indian food — it's wild." Now he has people coming in from an hour and a half away for my butter chicken, a dish his mom made and now one he makes at Nick & Sam's.
But still, he knows why Nick & Sam’s works: “We do what we do. We do it together. People will go try the new place. But when they want to feel at home, they’ll come back here.”
At the end of the day, that’s what the photo is: home. A table full of friends. A city reflected in faces and food. Samir at the center — not because he asked to be, but because no one else could sit there.
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