Freelance Food column by Isa

One month of eating, observing and exploring Nepalese food has left me ready to eat, observe and explore elsewhere. This isn’t to say we haven’t eaten well – the adjective that sums up our eating experience has been Whelming (copyright J Sherwin). 

Nepalese food is partway made up of dishes from neighboring countries with a few local features. Their signature MoMos (steamed dumplings) are cousin to the gyoza – served with buff, cheese or vegetable. Initially Emma and I condemned buff as beef to then learn it was the local buffalo. Dhal bhat is everywhere and a reliable choice: a lentil soup poured over a mound of rice, accompanied by a poppadom, spoonful of potato curry and a chilli chutney. Chowmein is another menu classic, the Nepalese spinoffs being Thukpah and Laphing. Thukpah is noodle soup, often quite spicy, whilst Laphing more remarkable. It’s a bowl of rubbery, bright yellow strips of pasta which are served cold with tangy sauce and a dollop of chili. We shared one for 40 rupees (40 cents) followed by pistachio kulfis, miniature creamy ice lollies. 
High points came almost exclusively from street food. After a wave of food poisoning (or my feeble immune system/stomach adjusting to the country) Emma and I tried to try each new thing we came across. Eem the fruit lover was in paradise – papayas, Nepalese apples, citrus pears, endless bananas. Fresh coconut cracked open and eaten on the spot confirmed my undying loyalty/obsession with it. We loved the carts of dried beans, roasted nuts and corn popping, second only to the memory of the sweetcorn stand. A woman would be stoking coals, a few flames licking out the grill where she roasted the corn. Being handed a piping hot, charred husk wrapped up in newspaper was human pleasure at its peak. 
Another repeated favourite was naan. We got pulled in by a man kneading fresh dough into circles and pressing them against the walls of a huge clay pot, heated by coals. We watched him rip open the steaming naan to slather on oil and crushed garlic and there was no going back – paneer naan, butter naan, naan for breakfast, naan for extra afternoon bant.. 

Looking for authentic Newari dinner, I learnt to avoid anywhere clean, with a menu or well-lit; local food meant an uninviting curtain covering the entry and a couple of tables with family members lounging around. The smug ‘We’re eating with locals’ feeling tended to trump the lack of variety on offer (inevitably dhal bhat or momos). 

Never was the whelming aspect of our Nepal meals more overwhelming than the Annapurna trek week. On the first day the huge menu (which appeared identically lunch after lunch, dinner after dinner) seemed full of potential. Rice, pasta, potatoes, chapati bread, served in many forms with token veg thrown in. As the days wore on, however, the many forms all started to look and taste the same. Mid way through the trek we saw guest houses with fresh mushrooms laid out to dry in the sun and I took to asking a typical Cale question: ‘what do you make best?’ and ‘which fresh vegetables do you have today?’

Next stop for the food columnist: Vietnam! Am highly looking forward to bathing in spring rolls.