My next culinary journey led me to local dining establishment "House of Tibet Kitchen" in Teele Square. Here, apparently, was the best yak in Boston.
Yup - yak. To my knowledge, yak is not commonly eaten in the United Kingdom, and I wouldn't say that it is much of a specialty food here, either. In fact, this is probably true of most places outside of Tibet and Nepal.
When I attempted to explain to my Taiwanese classmates what a yak was, I had to resort to the medium of mime. Luckily, a third party was able to translate the word yak into Mandarin, thus saving me from further embarrassment. However, you would never know yak was uncommon at House of Tibet Kitchen - half the menu is dedicated to extolling its virtues.
By the end of the menu, I was ready to order a whole live yak as a survival investment, should student funds run low over the cold winter months. The menu also detailed yak's nutritional benefits: Yak is incredibly low in fat, high in good fatty acids and low in cholesterol. There were even tables chock?full of compelling statistics to illustrate how wonderfully nutritious yak is compared to other non?yak alternatives. This wasn't cuisine. This was science.
I was slightly disappointed to discover the yaks were farmed by the distinctly un?Tibetan?sounding McRoberts family of Nebraska. Still, not to be dissuaded, my friend and I ordered two yak dishes: yaksha shaptak - sauteed yak with jalapeno, onion, ginger, garlic, peppers and spices, and yaksha logopetsel - sauteed sliced yak with cabbage, carrots, garlic, ginger, scallions and spices. We also ordered a selection of momo (Tibetan dumplings), jasmine rice and steamed bread.
The yak dishes were surprisingly different given their number of shared ingredients. The shaptak was a kind of dark, spicy curry - perfect for dipping the warm, steamed bread in - and the logopetsel was a much lighter dish in both color and taste. Both were extremely tasty and very satisfying, as were the momo. The yak had an interesting taste - almost like a gamey version of flavorful beef.
Food aside, our culinary adventures at The House of Tibet Kitchen continued even further with the drinks menu. This included the exotic?sounding chudchen dhara - a yogurt shake with banana, strawberry and mango - and bod ja, a traditional Tibetan tea lightly buttered and salted. I settled on cider - good, old?fashioned cider, reminding me of the West Country scrumpy back home. However, this was no ordinary cider. This was, I soon discovered, a "soft" cider. In the United Kingdom, cider is, as a firm rule, alcoholic enough to strip paint off a wall. Anything else is just apple juice.
This concept of non?alcoholic cider was one my brain struggled to comprehend. But bigger shocks followed. For this cider was not only "soft," it was served hot with cottage cheese crumbled into it. Wow. Although the cheesy, hot cider proved popular with my companions, I remained skeptical about the dairy element - especially as there is no elegant way to scoop out the remnants of cottage cheese at the bottom of a mug. This is not a date drink.
But cheese aside, I would highly recommend a visit to the House of Tibet Kitchen. If yak doesn't float your boat, there is a wide range of rice, noodle and soup dishes, all of which looked and smelled wonderful as they were ferried out to other diners. The setting is relaxed and intimate, and the service could not have been more attentive. The restaurant even stocks authentic Tibetan merchandise such as hats and booties - made, I presume, of yak. All in all, a great experience.
Verdict: 4.5 out of 5 - Minus a half? point for the cottage cheese.
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