Alibi V.24 No.2 • Jan 8-14, 2015 

Restaurant Review

All Over the Map

The inconsistent authenticity of Taste of Himalayas

Nepali bhojan
Nepali bhojan
Eric Williams ericwphoto.com
There’s a Nepali dish on the menu of Taste of Himalayas that appears to be there only for show. It’s called samayabajee and consists of an array of chutneys and organ meats, along with some intriguing sounding beaten rice. I’ve tried ordering samayabajee several times and placed calls to inquire if it was available, and the answer was always “no.”

On one visit I thought I was close. As we were being seated, I asked the host about samayabajee.

“I would prefer that you didn’t order that,” he replied. “You wouldn’t like it.”

I felt slightly indignant. I’ve traveled the world, including a week in Southern India, and I like to think I’m as adventurous as they come. So when our server arrived, I defiantly ordered the samayabajee. Apologetically, he informed me that they didn’t have the ingredients. They’re hard to get, he explained.

This experience is emblematic of the predicament in which I feel Taste of Himalayas is struggling. It aims for a level of authenticity that is enticing, but maybe not attainable or advisable here in the 505 due to the unavailability of ingredients and the limits of the clientele. Some of the dishes on the menu are confusingly pedestrian, like the semolina-coated fried calamari with aioli (which is tasty) and a list of chow mein dishes under the curious header “Taste of Himalayas Special.”

I soon discovered that there are, indeed, dishes at Taste of Himalayas capable of pushing me beyond my limits.

I soon discovered that there are, indeed, dishes at Taste of Himalayas capable of pushing me beyond my limits, though not enough to make me order any chow mein.

Taste of Himalayas
Eric Williams ericwphoto.com
Taste of Himalayas is a reincarnation of OM Fine Dining, the Indian restaurant that previously occupied the space on Fourth Street in Los Ranchos. Now under Nepali ownership, it bills itself as Indian and Nepali cuisine. Some of the OM dishes have remained, while a lineup of Nepali dishes have been added.

Upon being seated, diners are treated to a plate of papadum and two chutneys, tamarind and mint, the latter of which is especially good. There are other chutneys available on request, including a salty mango pickle and a bright yellow mix of cauliflower and some kind of legume, perhaps soybean. Children are greeted with complimentary mango lassi. There is also a salted lassi available, a similarly thick yogurt drink, laced with flecks of cumin and other spices. It was confoundingly delicious.

The aloo tikki, a savory fried potato pancake with spinach and fenugreek leaves, delivered the warm fuzzies as only comfort food can. The goat curry was deliciously spiced and falling-off-the-bone succulent. The lamb rogan josh was full of lamb chunks in a thick, rich, tomatoey gravy. The goan fish curry, flavored with mildly pungent curry leaves in a coconut sauce, carried me back to my travels in South India, even if salmon is not a staple of authentic Indian restaurants.

Most of the vegetarian dishes we tried hit the spot as well. Tops was the chana masala—buttery soft chickpeas in a tomato curry. The bhindi masala, fried okra in tomato sauce, hit the mark as well and wasn’t even too slimy despite being okra.

The only bump on the vegetarian side was the bagara baingan, baby eggplant in a peanut, mustard and coconut sauce, that tasted too much like peanut butter. Meanwhile, the chana chaat salad, a chickpea-based salad in a curry dressing, was noteworthy in how dramatically different it was each of the three times we tried it. Sometimes it had papadum shards in it, sometimes crunchy soybeans, sometimes crispy noodles, and none of the versions contained the advertised blueberries.

Underneath the surface of this inconsistency, I see a restaurant that’s still trying to find itself, despite being open for half a year. Taste of Himalayas can’t decide if it should be true to itself, and to authentic Nepali cuisine, or serve food that would be more likely to appeal to the local audience.

Lamb rogan josh
Lamb rogan josh
Eric Williams ericwphoto.com
My first hint of the challenging side of Taste of Himalayas came with the momos, Nepali dumplings that resemble pot stickers. They arrive in a bamboo steamer with squirt bottles of peanut sauce and an unusual chile sauce. After one taste of that chile sauce, which had a sour flavor that I couldn’t place, I opted to squirt no more. The Nepali menu also includes dal bhat, a multi-part dish of little bowls of vegetables, including an excellent Nepali dal, on a large platter along with yogurt, chutney and a dessert of gulab jamun—fresh cheese balls in a sweet syrup. The Nepali bhojan is similar, but includes some meat dishes too.

The yogurt had a gaminess that gave it the impression of being homemade, and I loved it. The chai had a similarly pungent edge to it. But one of the vegetable dishes, which had cauliflower, peas, potatoes and bamboo shoots, had an aroma to it that caught my attention in a negative way. That aroma showed up again much stronger in the goat bhuteko.

I love goat and was excited to dig into the plate of meat covered in finely chopped green herbs. But as it neared my mouth, I detected that challenging aroma, which stuck with me as I chewed. I ended up leaving most of the dish untouched. At home I perused recipes online for Nepali bhuteko and noticed that many contain asafetida, a South Asian ingredient made from the sap of a giant fennel plant. Asafetida is known to have an atrocious aroma that transforms into something quite pleasant, often compared to cooked garlic or leeks, when the resin is cooked in hot oil. Perhaps it was the asafetida that so repelled me.

It’s telling that there is no beef to be found on the menu. While it’s common to see beef on the menus of many Indian restaurants in the US, this would be taboo in true Indian cooking, as cows are sacred in India.

The majority of the restaurant’s patrons appeared to be South Asian—to my untrained eye I assumed they are mostly a mix of Indian and Nepali. This makes me think that my hesitations at Taste of Himalayas might be rooted in my own inability to handle the real deal. My pride wouldn’t want to accept a watered-down, Americanized version of any regional cuisine, but after a few trips to Taste of Himalayas, I’m afraid that with some of the dishes, my belly can’t keep pace with my heart. The next time the host warns me against ordering something there, I will listen.

Taste of Himalayas

7520 Fourth Street NW
899-4423
Hours: 11am to 3pm, 5pm-9:30pm Monday to Saturday
11am to 9:30pm Sunday
Booze: Beer and wine
Worth noting: The lunch specials are big and come on fancy platters.

The Alibi recommends: Goat curry, lamb rogan josh, goan fish curry, dal bhat or nepali bhojan