It was an opportunity that was too hard to pass up. A good friend was celebrating his 70th birthday and decided to do it in Nepal. I’d never been to South Asia and Kathmandu had always had a bit of a mystique to me. India is still on my bucket list to visit, but I’ve been holding off on going there until I could go with an Indian friend, who knew the lay of the land and who could explain all the customs and cuisines to me. You could use up a continent of water understanding them all with an AI chatbot, so I won’t do that.

And I’m also sitting in a hotel room while everyone else is asleep, sipping instant coffee from the hotel minibar at 4:40am, using the feeble internet connection, to upload some pictures to share. So sorry about any typos or lapses in knowledge about Nepal and Nepalese cuisine, which I’m trying to fill as I go along here. This was a relatively last-minute trip, so I should have crammed and studied up with some books on Nepalese cooking, but there really isn’t a better way to understand a country than through its food, and that’s what we did.

After a night of flying, we arrived pretty early, so unloaded our luggage at our hotel and hit the ground. The people at the desk warned us about walking around, saying it was a little dangerous. I wasn’t sure if that meant we would get mugged, but in the end, their concerns were for our safety due to the chaos of drivers and motor scooters coming at you from every which way. Apparently crime in Nepal is very low, but doing things like crossing a busy street can be harrowing due to a riot of traffic, so you might feel like you’re in a pinball machine, avoiding the flippers, if you walk around. (In Paris, we have food delivery drivers on bikes who seemingly have no idea about the rules of the road, and other cyclists who whiz through red lights, to worry about.) I felt very safe and while I’ve only been here a few days, everyone has been very kind.

At our first meal, the waiter gave us some guidance on eating with your hands. I’ve been out in Paris with my friend Beena Paradin, who gave me some tips, but it’s a talent I’ve yet to master.

I also took a chance on ordering dhido, a buckwheat dumpling of sorts, which came out in a big, gooey lump, drizzled with ghee (clarified butter). I can’t say it was my favorite thing that I ever ate, and the super-nice server told me it was best eaten by tearing off a chunk and dipping it in the sauce, then swallowing it without chewing. Since it had the texture of mochi, which people choke on in Japan, I decided that it may not be the best way to eat it. And talking to locals later about dhido, I realized it wasn’t everyone’s favorite. But they gave me kudos for trying it!

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