Culinary adventures

On our last evening in Tibet we ventured one block - and a universe - away from the three or four standard tourist restaurants with nondescript food. Peter had a recommendation for a Tibetan restaurant which was down a dark deconstructed street, right at the end after a series of hole in the wall kitchens and street food vendors. It seemed rather dodgy.

Once we ducked through the door hanging it was clearly a cool spot: low-slung tables with carved legs and painted tops, bench seating with embroidered cushions, a painted ceiling, candles everywhere, a bar with funky looking drinks, the young Tibetan hip / artsy crowd at the tables around us. Though none of the waitstaff spoke English they had an English menu and good food - it could easily have been in East Van or some other bohemian hangout... except for the scarlet-robed monk at the next table who was happily chowing down on a whole sheep's head.