Chapter 122: I Come from the Snow-Capped Mountains

Hungry at midday, I arrived at Makye Ame. Legend has it that the girl whom Tsangyang Gyatso deeply loved was named Makye Ame, and the conspicuous little yellow building on Barkhor Street is said to be the very place where they used to meet.

Stepping into the restaurant, I was greeted by a rich ethnic atmosphere: colorful striped cushions and placemats, wood carvings, vibrant paintings, and uniquely traditional utensils.

Zhuoma explained that all the ingredients are sourced directly from their places of origin. Even the head chef is a native of the Tibetan region, having fused Sichuan cooking techniques to refine over twenty Jiaorong Tibetan dishes that cater to a wider palate, allowing the taste buds to switch freely between the robust and the delicate.

Talk is cheap, so we went straight to the food. First, the Chieftain’s Roasted Lamb Chops. As one of China’s top three lamb-producing regions, most Tibetans live by herding. Cattle and sheep grow up happy, nurtured by singing and dancing while grazing on tender green grass and drinking pure river water across the vast grasslands, resulting in meat that is succulent and vibrant.

To ensure the authentic taste, the chef brought a traditional naan oven from his hometown. He places whole racks of fresh goat ribs inside, roasting them over charcoal until the skin turns a mesmerizing golden brown and the spices have completely fused with the bone and meat, releasing an alluring aroma.

A massive, imposing platter arrived, easily enough to be shared by six or seven people.

Eating with my hands, I could hear the sound of the resilient meat tearing under my teeth. The savory crispness and the sensation of juices flooding my mouth were pure satisfaction. Paired with a cup of highland barley wine, it was perfection.

The Jiaorong "Bear’s Paw" isn't actually bear paw, but yak hoof. It is slow-simmered to extract the gelatin, then stuffed into hollowed-out, golden-fried tofu and drizzled with a savory sauce. As you lift the tofu lid, the glistening, tender yak meat inside is revealed amidst the steam. The sticky, rich texture combined with a hint of spice made Zhuang Chen squint in delight—this is the right way to embark on a local culinary journey!

The Jiaorong "Fortune Trotters" feature locally raised miniature wild boar, famous for their firm, springy texture and rich aroma. Tossed with fresh chili, scallions, and celery, the meat danced on the palate like untamed little boars, triggering a storm of flavor.

The Hand-Grabbed Yak Beef is a specialty of the high-altitude, oxygen-deprived environment. Living on natural highland pastures, these yaks breathe the purest air, drink crystalline snowmelt, and feed on roots mixed with caterpillar fungus. It is a dish reserved for the most distinguished guests.

Authentic yak beef is served simply boiled and cooled. Holding a knife in one hand and the meat in the other, you slice as you eat—a testament to the straightforward, hearty nature of the highland herdsmen. The seasoning is just simple Tibetan salt from the ancient salt wells of Mangkang, rich in minerals and depth. The dipping sauce, made from local Suoduoxi chili powder, is thin-skinned and thick-fleshed, leaving the stomach at ease. The water used is spring water flowing from snow-capped mountains, sweet and crisp. The best ingredients need no complex seasoning; the most primitive, humble flavors are often the best.

Zhuang Chen carved the fist-sized beef into slices, dipped them in chili powder and a pinch of salt, and chewed with vigor, his jaw muscles working hard. The beauty of this dish lies in the layers of fat and lean meat—rich but not greasy, filling the mouth with flavor and the heart with happiness.

The Snow-Region Yak Hoof, stewed until spicy and tender, was paired with crispy eggplant cakes—a perfect contrast between luxury and simplicity. The fried yak beef sausage and blood sausage were freshly stuffed, unlike air-dried varieties. Zhuang Chen noticed a distinct, rich aroma of yak butter, which might be an acquired taste, but the kitchen’s slight modification—a quick pan-fry—made it a delightful treat.

Then came the secret-marinated goat ribs, golden fried potatoes, and sautéed Barkam wild mushrooms, all wrapped in foil and covered with a thick layer of coarse salt to resemble a snow mountain, then baked for fifteen minutes. Sweeping away the "snow" and opening the foil, the fragrance was intoxicating. The salt is used not just for the aesthetic, but to retain heat in the frigid highland air. For Zhuang Chen, the most charming part was the humble potato: soft, powdery, and melting in the mouth.

The Beef Offal Soup, slow-simmered with yak marrow bones, was a milky, restorative brew—a Tibetan favorite often eaten for breakfast with steamed buns and chili.

The fruit yogurt salad was an epiphany; every yogurt I had tasted before seemed mediocre by comparison.

The green pancakes, made from highland barley flour and fresh vegetable juice, captured the industrious wisdom of the locals, while the yogurt provided the perfect finish.

Finally, a large platter of yak beef buns arrived, bursting with filling. Dipped in Tibetan chili sauce made from Indian chili powder, it felt as if one were galloping across the vast grasslands on the back of a yak.

Everyone was stuffed, feeling as if they were floating. Zhuang Chen was satisfied. Is there anything more exciting than exotic cuisine? Perhaps only the moments spent with Zhuoma—like taming a wild horse, dangerous and thrilling. It was fortunate he was in good shape, or he might have been overwhelmed!

The next day, we headed to Yamdrok Lake, one of the three holy lakes. It is the closest to the city and the lowest in altitude. Known as the "Coral Lake of the Heavenly Pasture," it truly resembles coral, with its many branches spreading in all directions on the map.

Zhuoma leaned against the weary Zhuang Chen, still full of energy. Pointing to the blue lake in the distance, she said, "Compared to Namtso and Manasarovar, Yamdrok Lake has a unique beauty. Its graceful shape and the surrounding mountains, especially under the sunlight, create a dreamlike, ever-changing palette of blues and greens."

"That's why we call it the most enchanting holy lake."

"Legend says it helps believers find the reincarnated lama. After a high lama passes, rituals are performed here, and the presiding master can see images in the lake to determine the direction of the young soul."

"Hiking, kite flying, beautiful sunsets and sunrises, hot pot, movies, music, bonfires, and stargazing from a tent—all the joys of camping are here, with the only difference being that you are at an altitude of 4,441 meters beside a beautiful holy lake!"