The Himalayas
There are a small number of Baton Rouge diners, this author included, whose world has been widened by a little strip mall restaurant called The Himalayas on Sherwood Forest Boulevard. Opened long before that lackluster stretch of road began to explore its foodier side, the Indian/Nepali fare at The Himalayas offered a way out of the monocultural rut in which Capital City diners often find themselves.
When those diners would venture in to Himalayas, they would sometimes find themselves alone in its humble environs with only aromatic curries and some of the best vegetarian fare in the city to keep their company. I’ve often wondered how they stay open, as did Bruce Morgan, another of those diners.
Then on one visit, Morgan made the leap and asked Himalayas owner Bhawan Singh Thapa how he does it. And the owner opened up, saying that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could.
Then something surprising happened. “He looked me right in the eye,” said Morgan, “and said, ‘Can you help me?’”
Morgan decided he could. He’s retired from a career of doing public relations for the Louisiana Office of Tourism and knows a little about getting people into a restaurant, but he is just part of a consortium of helpers. And the kinds of help they provided ranged far afield from that you’d find from your traditional restaurant consultant.
“My biggest ally in this project has been Sand Marmillion of Laura Plantation, “ says Morgan.
Marmillion is a practitioner of feng shui, a Chinese practice that involves coordinating the energy of a place. “She was very interested in looking at the place from that perspective,” says Morgan. “She has drawn up a floor plan of where the spiritual aspects of everything are.”
But adds Morgan, “She has a great sense of design and marketing as well.”
And as it happens said Morgan, “There was a lama visiting New Orleans. We had him come in and perform a blessing in the restaurant. He left us instructions for us to take a confined animal like a crawfish or a cricket and do a live release in the restaurant from time to time.”
According to Morgan, a Buddhist group in Lafayette has released whole sacks of crawfish as part of this ritual. But in this case a small fishing cricket was sent to his freedom at The Himalayas.
Continuing the spiritual outreach, Morgan also contacted another lama who in turn contacted yet other lamas at monasteries in Tibet. “He had one hundred thousand repetitions of prayers said in Tibet for the restaurant, and he’d asked us to say a hundred repetitions of a series of prayers,” said Morgan.
Not all the changes were spiritual. The Coca-Cola signs were removed from the building’s exterior. A Nepali graduate student was involved in redesigning their menu. “We’ve also called on the Small Business Development Center and they have offered loans.” Through that connection they met Richardo Barrazza, who owns a Mexican restaurant in Central. “He came in and spoke very frankly with us about menus and other efficiencies we could institute in the restaurant.”
It bears noticing that though Morgan and the rest of this consortium of helpers are not financially entwined in running The Himalayas, there is a lot of “we” in the conversations. It has become a part of the lives of the people involved.
It makes sense; food is often the first way, sometimes the only way, that we take in another culture. I took my eleven-year old daughter with me to The Himalayas to see how these kind deeds have manifested, and to bring one more person into the culture of sharing.
I don’t profess to be sensitive to the energies that feng shui channels, but the place looks nicer. The window treatments are opened letting in plenty of natural light. Before you were confronted upon entering with the stainless steel trays that service the lunch buffet.
“Sand brought in from Laura Plantation a chest she painted herself and that sits there in the doorway on a nice bamboo rug and on it are the five symbols of feng shui, or really belong to everything: wood, fire, earth, water, and stone,” said Morgan. Marmillion also included a nice folding screen into this arrangement channeling both the energy and the attention into the rest of the room.
The owner comes by to talk when the waiter brings me a Himalayan chiya and my daughter a mango lasai, sort of a bright orange homemade mango smoothie. My daughter is already given her approval for this exchange as he lays down his history. Bhawan Singh Thapa was born in New Delhi and worked in the Indian embassy in the United States. He found himself in Baton Rouge after a time in New York and has kept The Himalayas open for nearly ten years. I ask him to explain the difference between Indian and Nepali food.
“Indian food is like curries and a lot of different foods. Nepali food is like, dumplings, or momo, and barbeque chicken, barbeque in general,” says Bhawan. He tries to explain how naan, the traditional flatbread, is served in both cuisines when his words begin fail him, so he sends off for some, and this is where we realize we have the perfect guide for our journey.
I always go for the rich and tangy lamb curry and my wife gets the sag paneer—creamed spinach with fresh cheese. This trek through The Himalayas however begins with Kashmiri naan, flatbread stuffed with a thin layer of cashews, pistachios, almonds and dried apples, served with a strong coriander paste and sweet chutney. Each wedge of the bread dipped in coriander offers a pull from all corners, a slightly bitter vegetal twang competing with the earthiness of nuts and the sweet subtle aura of the apples. No flavor is strong enough to really carry the dish, but together they strengthen each other like twine braided into a rope. We decide to put our culinary journey in Luann’s hands.
My daughter is shy about Indian spiciness so he suggests vegetable biriyani – aromatic Basmati rice cooked with vegetables and nuts. I ask for the wildest thing on the menu and his eyes light up. “Goat curry,” he smiles with confidence. I have yet to meet an ethnic goat dish I didn’t like—so I nod. “I make it just spicy and bring you something special,” he assures us.
He soon arrives with an oversized buttered naan hanging off both sides of the plate. It is pretty impressive; he poses for a picture with my daughter as they both hold it as if it was a record-size flatfish they’d just reeled in. The rice dish was dreamy and subtle, awash in basmati rice’s perfume, where the goat curry was a wild thing. Large hunks of goat meat stewed on the bone in a deep brown curry sauce, spiciness pegged just above the norm for western fare. Our host looked on favorably as I picked at the bone for the tastiest morsels.
We talked further about the feng shui and the Buddhist prayers and Bhawan revealed that he is Hindu. “For me, God is God, no matter what religion it is.” I start to notice that when he says “For me” it is a collective me, a personality shared with others. He is more than just a restaurant host who found himself sitting at our table; he’s a member of the meal. He pops up with an idea, “I bring you a traditional Nepali dessert.”
I like the way he thinks. He returns with gulab jaaman, a quartet of moist milk powder biscuits soaked in sweet syrup bobbing on a surface of creamy rice pudding. The extremes collapse with the doughnut sweetness mingling with the liminal consistency of the pudding. It is the softest landing for a wide-reaching culinary journey.
Details. Details. Details.
The Himalayas Restaurant
3851 S. Sherwood Forest Boulevard
Baton Rouge, La.
(225) 295-4490.
Lunch buffet Tuesday—Friday, 11 am–2 pm. Till 2:30 pm on Saturday and Sunday.
Dinner Tuesday—Thursday, 5 pm–9 pm. Till 9:30 pm Friday—Sunday