Food From the Top of the World
'Lhasa Moon' brings Tibet to S.F.
By Eunice Park

Free Tibet. Popular culture has been infiltrated by a barrage of bumper stickers, a high-profile benefit concert, and the Dalai Lama smiling benignly from the cover of his own bestseller. In the latest bout of Asia-mania, Tibet has permeated fashion, politics, Hollywood, and religion, captivating such Tinseltown types as Richard Gere to answer the call of the Lama.

The name “Tibet” itself has an otherworldly, enigmatic quality, evoking images of hairy yaks gallivanting across dizzying mountain tops, monks meditating in hidden monasteries and glossy National Geographic pages filled with women in exotic traditional costumes. But when it comes to Tibetan food, most people draw a blank. One might expect the Tibetan people to subsist solely on yak meat and milk, but despite the limitations of high altitudes, it’s a pleasant surprise to discover that Tibet possesses a rich culinary tradition.

Lhasa Moon, nestled on a nondescript stretch of Lombard Street in Cow Hollow, has the lonely and unusual distinction of being Northern California’s only Tibetan restaurant.

At seven o’clock on a Thursday evening, the restaurant is as barren as the windswept Tibetan steppes, with only a solitary man in the corner sipping absently at a cup of tea. Lit dimly by low lamps, the restaurant’s quiet hush is broken by jarring chords of traditional Tibetan music. (I feel like I’ve stepped into a timeless void until the sound of a little girl singing Miss Susie Had a Steamboat brings me back to the present.)

The disorienting feeling of being lost in time is enhanced by two waitresses wearing traditional Tibetan costumes. One speaks with a foreign and musical accent and I am disappointed to discover she has never actually been to Tibet. Nevertheless she is gracious and knowledgeable, helping me to maneuver through the unfamiliar but diverting menu, which includes both meat and vegetarian options. (Vegetables are rare in the high altitudes of Tibet but are included on the menu to accommodate the health-conscious San Franciscan.)

For starters, a bowl of Ashom Thang soup ($3.50) appears. A little on the sweet side, the roughness of fresh corn contrasts with the softness of tofu in a soothing Tibetan version of chicken soup for the soul. Phing Alla ($5.00) -- a crepe filled with bean thread (very fine noodles), vegetables and shiitaki mushrooms -- is another palate-wetting appetizer. Much like a spongy spring roll, the soft pancake covering envelops the somewhat bland vegetable filling. The blandness is soon forgotten with the accompanying hot sauce, a virulent salsa of chopped red chili peppers that makes Tabasco sauce look anemic.

For those whose gentle tongues are offended by such fiery fare, there is Jhasha Momo ($8.00), a septet of dumplings very similar to what can be found on any dim sum cart. Considered the national dish of Tibet, the seven pleated half-moons have a soft and chewy dough skin and tender chicken filling. The meat soaks in its own natural juices, providing a succulent and fulfilling dish.

Curries and sauces figure largely in the vegetable and meat entrees and are eaten not with rice but with tingmo ($1.75), a fluffy white bread similar to that found in baked pork buns. This bread is a hidden secret, added almost as an afterthought to the menu, but is one of the best foods Lhasa Moon has to offer. Resembling a virgin cinnamon bun, the garlic-infused bread is almost as fun as to eat as it is delicious. Soft and chewy, it unrolls like a sleeping bag, serving as the perfect complement to dip in any sauce or curry.

Tsel Phing ($9.00) is a blend of fine bean thread noodles (what gourmets like to call Asian vermicelli), potatoes, peas and celery sauteed with ginger and emma, or Tibetan peppercorns. Tasting like an Asian version of chili, the noodles were tasty but were compromised by undercooked potatoes and suspicious peas.

One section on the menu, “Pasta Dishes from the High Plateau,” seems a little incongruous with the authentic nature of the rest of the dishes. (Pasta is not something one usually associates with the mountainous Tibet.) Thukpa Ngopa ($9.50) -- baked egg noodles topped with sauteed broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, chicken and snow peas -- was flavorful and reminiscent of chop suey, but much less greasy.

It’s always gratifying when perfect beginnings come with perfect endings, and the homemade dessert, Bhatsu Makhu ($3.50), provides a pleasant end to a calm, peaceful evening. In a true Asian version of the cinnamon bun, two baby tingmo rolls are smothered in a nutty caramel sauce. Slightly more chewy than the Mama Tingmo, these sweet confections should relieve any stomachs inflamed by the incendiary pepper sauce.

With her high cheekbones and traditional dress, one of the waitresses could have stepped directly off of a Tibetan mountain. This contributes to Lhasa Moon’s authentically Tibetan atmosphere and the sense of having been transported to some other place, perhaps time. But providing an engaging reminder of modernity is the waitress’ little girl, who was more than happy to converse with anyone.

The prices are reasonable but portions are small, so the hungry may have to order a multitude of dishes. However, the intimacy of the restaurant and the fact that fingers are more convenient than forks or spoons makes this an ideal place for dinner with a small group of close friends.

Lhasa Moon is at 2420 Lombard St., San Francisco. For more information, call 415-674-9898.