Tara’s was completely empty upon our arrival.

Red (Tibetan prayer) flag #1

The waiter was irritated by our style of ordering. “So… do you want the ice tea or the beer??” he asked impatiently, when we had quite clearly ordered tea for me and beer for the Bread Guy.

Strike #2

The dumplings came out soggy and greasy. Like they were thrown in cold oil, slow cooked for two hours (til they were the consitency of wet earlobes) and then topped with the remaining oil. Yuck.

We still ate them all.

My Sherpa’s Stew was fantastic, shockingly.

The menu boasted the option to get it with Yak meat.

“No Yak”.

Spoken as if I had completely imagined it, not like they were all out.

The stew reminded me of Japanese ramen soup with spaghetti, fresh cabbage and some random, tasty spices.

I loved it.

It was also oily as hell. I could only finish a third of it.

After our meal, we slipped and slided all the way home as the copius amounts of oils consumed had begun leaking out of our pores.