Interview by Aude Camus
I’m in my chili era. I mean, I’ve always liked spicy food – and could handle a pretty reasonable level of heat for a French person. But over the past year, my tolerance has grown even bigger. I don’t shy away from ordering spicy dishes at local restaurants anymore. I actually crave it. And now, I have my own little collection of sauces and condiments at home, which I like to add to pretty much every dish I eat (yes, even French food… shocking, I know).
So yes, I’m in my chili era. And while I’m at it, I might as well support local brands, right? That’s how I came across Yu Kwen Yick, a beloved homegrown brand over 100 years old with a shop in Sai Ying Pun – one of my go-tos for a local fix (and a great souvenir). And then there’s another, younger, wittier, but equally delicious brand: A Spark of Madness. Handmade in Hong Kong, their crispy chili oil is the kind of jar you want to get your hands on. A contemporary take on Lao Gan Ma – the OG Chinese chili oil – it’s everything you want in a condiment: spicy enough to tickle your tastebuds, but not so strong it overpowers the dish; an addictive crisp texture; and a depth of flavour with that umami kick. Not to mention, I’m a sucker for good marketing, and A Spark of Madness nails it.
I’m the kind of girl who’s a bit obsessive. If I like something, I want to know more about it. So what did I do? I reached out to Simran Savlani, the founder of the brand, eager to hear her story.
It only took a few minutes of talking for two things to become very clear: she feeds people as a love language – and she does absolutely nothing in half measures.
I’m in my chili era. I mean, I’ve always liked spicy food – and could handle a pretty reasonable level of heat for a French person. But over the past year, my tolerance has grown even bigger. I don’t shy away from ordering spicy dishes at local restaurants anymore. I actually crave it. And now, I have my own little collection of sauces and condiments at home, which I like to add to pretty much every dish I eat (yes, even French food… shocking, I know).
So yes, I’m in my chili era. And while I’m at it, I might as well support local brands, right? That’s how I came across Yu Kwen Yick, a beloved homegrown brand over 100 years old with a shop in Sai Ying Pun – one of my go-tos for a local fix (and a great souvenir). And then there’s another, younger, wittier, but equally delicious brand: A Spark of Madness. Handmade in Hong Kong, their crispy chili oil is the kind of jar you want to get your hands on. A contemporary take on Lao Gan Ma – the OG Chinese chili oil – it’s everything you want in a condiment: spicy enough to tickle your tastebuds, but not so strong it overpowers the dish; an addictive crisp texture; and a depth of flavour with that umami kick. Not to mention, I’m a sucker for good marketing, and A Spark of Madness nails it.
I’m the kind of girl who’s a bit obsessive. If I like something, I want to know more about it. So what did I do? I reached out to Simran Savlani, the founder of the brand, eager to hear her story.
It only took a few minutes of talking for two things to become very clear: she feeds people as a love language – and she does absolutely nothing in half measures.
What started as a cookbook experiment during lockdown has become one of Hong Kong’s most playful homegrown food brands. Beyond that chilli oil with actual depth, there’s also a caramelised spring onion sauce that works on steamed fish and scrambled eggs, and even an alcoholic jam that belongs in your margarita.
I met Simran at a coffee shop, where she handed me jars before I’d even opened my notebook.
“If something’s taking prime real estate in your fridge,” she told me, “it should be able to do more than one job.” That line? It says everything.
Feeding People Has Always Been the Plan
Long before there was a brand, there was a little girl whose answer to “What do you want to be?” always involved feeding people.
“Food is my language of love,” Simran says. “Even now, if someone tells me they’re travelling somewhere, I’ll immediately send them a list of what to eat.”
Born in Taiwan, Indian by heritage, and a Hong Kong resident for over 25 years, she didn’t follow a traditional culinary path. No chef whites. No rigid kitchen discipline. In fact, consistency is precisely what she doesn’t claim.
“I’m creative with flavours. I can imagine textures, combinations, how something should feel. But I cannot promise you the same dish twice. A chef has to be consistent. That’s not me.”
Instead, she studied business, worked in media and lifestyle, and eventually moved to Paris to study restaurant management at Le Cordon Bleu – not to cook, but to understand how restaurants work.
Paris gave her wine education, discipline, and something even more important: humility.
“Don’t walk into a room pretending you know everything,” she says. “If you’re willing to learn, people help you.”That lesson would later shape everything she built in Hong Kong.
From Cookbook to Condiments – Completely By Accident
I met Simran at a coffee shop, where she handed me jars before I’d even opened my notebook.
“If something’s taking prime real estate in your fridge,” she told me, “it should be able to do more than one job.” That line? It says everything.
Feeding People Has Always Been the Plan
Long before there was a brand, there was a little girl whose answer to “What do you want to be?” always involved feeding people.
“Food is my language of love,” Simran says. “Even now, if someone tells me they’re travelling somewhere, I’ll immediately send them a list of what to eat.”
Born in Taiwan, Indian by heritage, and a Hong Kong resident for over 25 years, she didn’t follow a traditional culinary path. No chef whites. No rigid kitchen discipline. In fact, consistency is precisely what she doesn’t claim.
“I’m creative with flavours. I can imagine textures, combinations, how something should feel. But I cannot promise you the same dish twice. A chef has to be consistent. That’s not me.”
Instead, she studied business, worked in media and lifestyle, and eventually moved to Paris to study restaurant management at Le Cordon Bleu – not to cook, but to understand how restaurants work.
Paris gave her wine education, discipline, and something even more important: humility.
“Don’t walk into a room pretending you know everything,” she says. “If you’re willing to learn, people help you.”That lesson would later shape everything she built in Hong Kong.
From Cookbook to Condiments – Completely By Accident
Simran always thought she would open a restaurant. She had business plans. Spotify playlists for the vibe. The vision was crystal clear. Then 2020 happened.
Stranded in Bombay during lockdown, she suddenly found herself cooking every meal – experimenting with ingredients she’d previously only eaten in restaurants. When she returned to Hong Kong and quarantined alone for two weeks, her sister suggested she document the recipes.
The result? A vegetarian Asian cookbook. The condiments were supposed to be a three-month side project to promote it. That was October 2021.
“The response was overwhelming,” she says. “And I realised I didn’t just want to sell paper. I still wanted to feed people.” So A Spark of Madness pivoted from pages to jars.
Why Hong Kong Had to Be the Heart of It
One thing was non-negotiable: the sauces had to be Hong Kong.
Even though her cookbook drew inspiration from across Asia – Thailand, Taiwan, Vietnam, Indonesia – the condiments were rooted here.
“I love Hong Kong,” she says without hesitation. “There’s no other city like this. The efficiency, the trust, the safety. If you want to make something happen here, you can.” And that energy is bottled.
Stranded in Bombay during lockdown, she suddenly found herself cooking every meal – experimenting with ingredients she’d previously only eaten in restaurants. When she returned to Hong Kong and quarantined alone for two weeks, her sister suggested she document the recipes.
The result? A vegetarian Asian cookbook. The condiments were supposed to be a three-month side project to promote it. That was October 2021.
“The response was overwhelming,” she says. “And I realised I didn’t just want to sell paper. I still wanted to feed people.” So A Spark of Madness pivoted from pages to jars.
Why Hong Kong Had to Be the Heart of It
One thing was non-negotiable: the sauces had to be Hong Kong.
Even though her cookbook drew inspiration from across Asia – Thailand, Taiwan, Vietnam, Indonesia – the condiments were rooted here.
“I love Hong Kong,” she says without hesitation. “There’s no other city like this. The efficiency, the trust, the safety. If you want to make something happen here, you can.” And that energy is bottled.
Dumplings in Crack Sauce
The Caramelised Spring Onion Sauce is inspired by the sauce you get with char siu and by Cantonese home kitchens – puréed spring onions slow-cooked with ginger, sesame oil and vinegar, then finished with fresh aromatics.
The Crack Sauce riffs on dan dan noodles – peanut, sesame, brown sugar and chilli oil – flavours that echo across Asia from satay to laksa.
The Crispy Chilli Oil ? It has heat, yes, but it doesn’t bully the dish. “I don’t want Tabasco energy,” she laughs. “I want flavour first.”
And that’s the magic: these are Hong Kong sauces that move easily between cuisines. On noodles. On Greek salad. On a cream cheese bagel. On French toast (trust her). Made in Hong Kong. Inspired by Hong Kong. Not imported. Not trend-chasing.
Beyond the Jar: Food Tours and Sampan Dinners
The Crack Sauce riffs on dan dan noodles – peanut, sesame, brown sugar and chilli oil – flavours that echo across Asia from satay to laksa.
The Crispy Chilli Oil ? It has heat, yes, but it doesn’t bully the dish. “I don’t want Tabasco energy,” she laughs. “I want flavour first.”
And that’s the magic: these are Hong Kong sauces that move easily between cuisines. On noodles. On Greek salad. On a cream cheese bagel. On French toast (trust her). Made in Hong Kong. Inspired by Hong Kong. Not imported. Not trend-chasing.
Beyond the Jar: Food Tours and Sampan Dinners
Simran doesn’t just want to sell you a condiment. She wants to walk you through the city that inspired it.
Her Mad Food Tours began almost accidentally – originally as vegetarian explorations for people intimidated by traditional Hong Kong eateries. “People see meat hanging and assume there’s nothing for them,” she says. “But if you ask, if you’re respectful, people will make it happen.”
Today, her tours span neighbourhoods like Wan Chai and Sham Shui Po, bringing together strangers who start the day in small groups and end it sharing food across tables.
“I love watching that moment when they’re no longer sitting with the people they came with.”
There are also her now-legendary vegetarian sampan dinners – four tied-together boats, 40 guests, and seafood chefs who once told her she was “embarrassing” them for suggesting a meat-free menu. They’ve now renovated four boats thanks to the success of those dinners. That’s the spark of madness at work.
Collaborations: From FINI’s to Shake Shack
If you’ve seen her name pop up at FINI’s, Shake Shack in Manila, or The Baker & The Bottleman for Chinese New Year – that’s no coincidence.
For Simran, collaborations aren’t just marketing. They’re conversation. The Shake Shack partnership in Manila introduced her brand to an entirely new market. In Dubai and Singapore, growth has come through retailers and distributors. Each city requires a different strategy. “There’s no right formula,” she says. “I’m learning every day.”
What remains constant is this: the product must still taste like A Spark of Madness. Not watered down. Not diluted. Not safe.
Where Simran Eats in Hong Kong
Today, her tours span neighbourhoods like Wan Chai and Sham Shui Po, bringing together strangers who start the day in small groups and end it sharing food across tables.
“I love watching that moment when they’re no longer sitting with the people they came with.”
There are also her now-legendary vegetarian sampan dinners – four tied-together boats, 40 guests, and seafood chefs who once told her she was “embarrassing” them for suggesting a meat-free menu. They’ve now renovated four boats thanks to the success of those dinners. That’s the spark of madness at work.
Collaborations: From FINI’s to Shake Shack
If you’ve seen her name pop up at FINI’s, Shake Shack in Manila, or The Baker & The Bottleman for Chinese New Year – that’s no coincidence.
For Simran, collaborations aren’t just marketing. They’re conversation. The Shake Shack partnership in Manila introduced her brand to an entirely new market. In Dubai and Singapore, growth has come through retailers and distributors. Each city requires a different strategy. “There’s no right formula,” she says. “I’m learning every day.”
What remains constant is this: the product must still taste like A Spark of Madness. Not watered down. Not diluted. Not safe.
Where Simran Eats in Hong Kong
If you want to eat Hong Kong the way she does, skip the polished reservations and head for places with soul.
Her favourite restaurant? Sijie , a private Sichuan kitchen. “I love the plates, the food, the fact that you can bring your own wine.” She loves Hop Yik Tai in Sham Shui Po for cheung fun (Cantonese rice noodles rice) with perfect texture, and the hole-in-the-wall noodle shops most people walk past without noticing.
There’s Pang’s Kitchen in Happy Valley, and she still raves about adding chilli oil to Hong Kong French toast – something she discovered at May’s Cafe (an old-school cha chaan teng).
For Simran, it’s never about trend. It’s about flavours, character and people who care.
The Spark
The name comes from a Robin Williams quote: “You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.”
Simran started A Spark of Madness as an Instagram account when she moved to Paris. There was no grand business strategy. No trademark ambitions. Just instinct.
Today, her jars sit in boutique retailers across Hong Kong, as well as in Singapore, the UAE and the Philippines – with Europe and Australia firmly in her sights.
And the restaurant dream? Still alive. There are five business plans waiting. But for now, she’s feeding people across cities instead of just one neighbourhood. And honestly? That feels very Hong Kong. Fast. Fearless. A little bit mad.
Her favourite restaurant? Sijie , a private Sichuan kitchen. “I love the plates, the food, the fact that you can bring your own wine.” She loves Hop Yik Tai in Sham Shui Po for cheung fun (Cantonese rice noodles rice) with perfect texture, and the hole-in-the-wall noodle shops most people walk past without noticing.
There’s Pang’s Kitchen in Happy Valley, and she still raves about adding chilli oil to Hong Kong French toast – something she discovered at May’s Cafe (an old-school cha chaan teng).
For Simran, it’s never about trend. It’s about flavours, character and people who care.
The Spark
The name comes from a Robin Williams quote: “You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.”
Simran started A Spark of Madness as an Instagram account when she moved to Paris. There was no grand business strategy. No trademark ambitions. Just instinct.
Today, her jars sit in boutique retailers across Hong Kong, as well as in Singapore, the UAE and the Philippines – with Europe and Australia firmly in her sights.
And the restaurant dream? Still alive. There are five business plans waiting. But for now, she’s feeding people across cities instead of just one neighbourhood. And honestly? That feels very Hong Kong. Fast. Fearless. A little bit mad.
