Teddy Lee grew up working in his family’s Chinese restaurant in the UK and, from the age of 15, studied hotel management and confectionery while working weekends alongside his parents.
He opened his first ramen restaurant in Edinburgh in 2015, and six months later he rebranded it Maki & Ramen.
Lee relocated his family to Tokyo, where he trained under Japanese masters before returning to grow his brand. (Supplied)
Determined to perfect his ramen, Lee relocated his family to Tokyo, where he trained under Japanese masters before returning to grow his brand — adding locations across the UK and launching a frozen ramen range that debuted in China before hitting British shelves.
Earlier this year, Lee opened Maki & Ramen’s first Middle East location in Dubai.
When you started out, what was the most common mistake you made?
Probably cutting my hand because the knife was too sharp. That’s quite ironic, because a sharp knife is exactly what you want in a professional kitchen. The problem is, when you are just starting out, you do not yet have the control or confidence to match it. I was moving too fast, trying to keep up. In kitchens, there’s this pressure to look capable from day one, and sometimes that means you rush before your technique is really there. I learned very quickly that speed means nothing without consistency and control. It taught me early on that good cooking is not just about instinct or creativity, it’s about discipline, repetition, and respecting the tools in front of you.
What’s your top tip for amateur chefs cooking at home?
Experiment and fail. That’s honestly the best advice I can give anyone. People are often so worried about getting something wrong that they stick too closely to a recipe and never really learn how food works. But most of the confidence you build in cooking comes from making mistakes and then figuring out how to fix them. Maybe something is too salty, too bland, too dry, too heavy, and then you start asking yourself what it needs. More acid? More texture? A bit of sweetness? Better balance? That’s when cooking becomes instinctive instead of mechanical. Some of the best dishes come from accidents or last-minute fixes. At home, especially, there should be room to play. Once you stop being afraid of failure, you start making much more interesting food.
What one ingredient can instantly improve any dish?
There’s no single magic ingredient that works on everything, but from my own background and the way I cook, soy sauce and Chinese vinegar are two things I come back to all the time. Soy sauce brings depth, savoriness, and that rounded umami flavor that can make something taste more complete almost instantly. Chinese vinegar adds brightness, sharpness, and a bit of complexity. Even the simplest food can wake up with the right balance of those two things. A bowl of noodles, some fried rice, even a quick stir fry, can go from flat to full of character very quickly. What I like about those ingredients is that they don’t just add flavor, they also create balance, which is usually what a dish is missing when it feels like it’s not quite there yet.
When you go out to eat, do you find yourself critiquing the food?
Actually, I notice the operation first. That’s probably the business owner in me. I look at how the room is set up, whether the layout makes sense, how the staff move, whether they seem coordinated or stressed, whether the place feels clean and cared for. Those things tell you a lot before you’ve even taken a bite. Then I notice details like presentation, timing, atmosphere, and whether the whole experience feels intentional. Ultimately, I care about the food, and if the food is great then that is what I remember most, but I think once you have spent enough time in hospitality, you can’t help but see the bigger picture. Great restaurants are not just built on good dishes, but on systems, consistency, and how people are made to feel from the second they walk in.
What’s the most common issue you notice in other restaurants?
A lack of warmth when welcoming guests is the biggest one. You can have beautiful interiors, great branding, and technically good food, but if the welcome feels cold or distracted, the whole experience starts on the wrong note. Hospitality is emotional above all else. People remember how they were received. I also notice simple things like a dirty menu, an unclean table, or a front-of-house team that feels disengaged. Those details sound small, but they tell the guest whether the restaurant is paying attention. First impressions really do set the tone, and once that tone is off, everything else has to work harder to recover it. A guest should feel looked after straight away — not like they’re interrupting somebody’s day.
What’s your favorite cuisine or dish to order?
Beef ho fun. I love it because it’s such a simple dish on paper, but that’s exactly why it’s so satisfying when done properly. There’s nowhere to hide. The noodles need the right texture, the beef has to be tender, the wok needs to give it that smoky flavor, and the seasoning has to be balanced without overcomplicating it. A dish like that shows restraint and skill at the same time. I think chefs are often drawn to food that looks simple but requires real understanding to execute well. Beef ho fun is comfort food for me, but it’s also something I respect, because when it’s done right, it’s perfect — no unnecessary extras, just technique and flavor working together.
What’s your go-to dish if you need to cook something quickly at home?
Packet noodles, without a doubt. I know that’s not the glamorous chef answer people expect, but it’s the truth. They’re quick, comforting, and easy to build on depending on what you have at home. Sometimes I keep it simple, other times I add an egg, spring onion, leftover meat, chili oil, or whatever’s in the fridge. That’s the beauty of it. It’s low effort but still satisfying. When you work in kitchens, sometimes what you want at home is not another big production. You want something fast that still feels good to eat, and packet noodles do that. There’s also something quite nostalgic about them as they remind you that food does not always need to be complicated to hit the spot.
What customer behavior do you find most challenging?
Probably when expectations are not clearly communicated but are still expected to be met. In hospitality, we genuinely want to make people happy and create a great experience, but that becomes difficult when the standard exists only in someone’s head and has not been shared with the team. It might be a special request, a dietary preference, a timing issue, or a very specific idea of how they want the meal to go, but if we don’t know, we can’t respond properly. The challenge is always balancing flexibility with consistency. You want to say yes as much as possible, but you also have to protect the flow of service and make sure standards remain high for everyone in the room. Most issues can be solved easily with good communication, and that’s why clarity matters so much. When guests tell us what they need, we can usually go above and beyond. It’s the unspoken expectations that tend to create friction.
What’s your favorite dish to cook?
Ramen, always. I enjoy it so much that I basically built my career around it. What I love about ramen is that it looks comforting and straightforward when it reaches the table, but behind that bowl there is so much technique, patience, and detail. The broth alone can take hours to get right. Then you have the noodles, the tare, the oil, the toppings, the balance of texture, temperature, and flavor. Every element matters. What makes ramen special to me is that all of that work comes together in something that feels deeply warming and accessible. It’s not precious food — it’s emotional food. A really good bowl of ramen can change someone’s entire day. That is rare. It gives people warmth, satisfaction, and that feeling of being taken care of, all in one dish. I think that’s why I never get tired of it.
What’s the most difficult dish for you to get right?
Sushi, without question. The precision is on another level. People often think it’s all about rolling or slicing fish beautifully, but the real foundation is the rice. When I trained in Tokyo, we weren’t even allowed to roll sushi for the first two weeks. We had to focus only on the rice, which tells you everything about how seriously it is taken. The texture, temperature, seasoning, consistency… even how it feels in your hand — all of it matters. Sushi is one of those things where the smallest difference can completely change the result. If you step away from it for a while, you feel that immediately. It really is an art form, and one built on restraint, repetition, and obsessive attention to detail. That is what makes it so difficult, but also so respected.
How would you describe your leadership style in the kitchen?
Collaborative. I do not believe the best kitchens are run purely on fear or hierarchy. Of course, there has to be structure, discipline, and clear standards, but I think people do their best work when they feel involved and valued. I like bringing the team into the creative process and building dishes together rather than treating it as a one-way conversation. Sometimes the best ideas come from the people working closest to the food every day. It also creates a stronger sense of ownership. When the team feels like they’ve contributed to something, they care more about executing it well. For me, leadership is not about shouting the loudest, it’s about setting the tone, keeping standards high, and creating an environment where people can improve, contribute, and stay curious. That is what keeps the kitchen sharp, and it’s also why our food tends to have a bit of playfulness behind it. It reflects the energy of the people making it.
Chef Teddy’s chicken katsu curry:
Ingredients:
For the chicken katsu:
1 chicken breast, about 180g
Salt, to taste
Flour, for coating
1 egg, beaten (approx. 50g)
Panko breadcrumbs, for full coating
For the curry sauce:
200g java or golden curry paste/roux
20g onion, sliced
10 to 15g tomato ketchup (optional)
1.32 liters water
For the garnish:
5g carrot, boiled and diced
5g potato, boiled and diced
5g broccolini, blanched or boiled
Method:
Season the chicken breast with salt on both sides. Lightly coat it in flour, then dip it into the beaten egg. Press it into the panko breadcrumbs until fully and evenly coated. Set aside.
To make the curry sauce, sauté the sliced onion until soft and lightly golden. Add the tomato ketchup and stir through. Pour in the water and bring to a gentle simmer. Add the curry paste or roux, stirring continuously until fully dissolved. Let it simmer until the sauce thickens to a smooth consistency.
Heat oil in a deep pan to 160°C. Fry the breaded chicken until golden brown and cooked through, turning once so both sides become crisp and evenly colored. Remove and drain on paper towels.
Slice the chicken into strips and arrange on a plate. Spoon the curry sauce generously over the top. Add the cooked carrots, potatoes, and broccolini on the side or around the dish. Serve hot.
