Address: 4711 47th Ave, Woodside, NY 11377
Subway: 46th St. (7)

Several blocks from the Tibetan Dumpling Cafe (TDC) is Gakyizompe, whose inconspicuous entrance is also marked by a string of fluttering prayer flags.

Walking into the restaurant, we found ourselves to be the only customers, which was a first (there was a man who I thought was a customer but later realized was probably the one responsible for making deliveries).

Gakyizompe was spacious enough to have three rows of seating: tables for two against the walls on the left and right and tables for four in the middle. The waitress seated us at a table for four. I estimated the size of the place to be about twice that of Lhasa Fast Food (LFF). The kitchen was more closed-off than the other Tibetan restaurants’ kitchens, but there was still a window looking into the cooking space. An old TV in the back corner played videos of traditional dances to what I could only guess was Tibetan music. All-in-all, the setting seemed to be between that of LFF and TDC–minimal in design and tableware but well-lit and capacious.

Knowing my tendency to indecisive, I had looked up Gakyizompe’s menu while we were at TDC and had a good idea of what to get. I ordered the shabaley (sha-bah-lay) and debated between the three different types of bhagleps (bahg-lepp) offered. The waitress, whose English was the best out of all the waitresses we’ve spoken with so far, explained that the yooshang bhaglep and the normal bhaglep on the menu are the same–akin to certain Indian flatbreads–and the amdo bhaglep is a more fried version of the other two. We chose to get one of each.

The shabaley came as five piping hot beef and onion patties in a fried dough casing. While I liked the initial crunch of the crust, I found the dough exterior to be a bit too chewy. Beyond the dough, the beef filling was good as it was but I liked it better when I spooned some soy sauce over it.

The two bhagleps were quite distinct in look, texture, and taste. The amdo bhaglep (top left) is much more fried and crispy than the yooshang bhaglep (bottom left), though the interior is quite soft. Because it was fried, it did have a bit more of a flavor to it than the normal bhaglep. On the other hand, the yooshang bhaglep, or just bhaglep, was very lightly pan-fried. The inside was very soft and porous.

The bhagleps were a bit too plain to eat by themselves, so we ordered the beef chili to go with it. The “chili” part of the dish’s name is quite misleading because it turned out to be unlike any American chili: the beef was sliced and sauteed with onions, red and green bell peppers in a reddish-orange sauce (wow, Tibetans really like the onion-red bell pepper-green bell pepper combination, this is the the fourth dish we’ve order that has had all three of those together). This sauce wasn’t as recognizable as the one from TDC…I guessed that it was tomato-based, but I could be very wrong. All-in-all, the dish was satisfying and the bhagleps sopped up the sauce well.

The beef chili also came with a tingmo. This tingmo looked very different from the one we had at TDC because it was shaped more like a roll and had a very homemade look to it. The look and texture of the dough reminded me of the homemade steamed buns and rolls my parents make–they would always complain about how the buns’ surfaces were indented and not as smooth as those of the store-bought ones.

When I asked for the check, I learned that if I paid in cash (as opposed to credit card), I wouldn’t have to pay tax. Luckily, I had a couple bills on me.

With half a tingmo wrapped up to go, we stepped back out into the cold and walked back to the subway.

Address: 49-08 Queens Blvd, Woodside, NY 11377
Subway: 46 St. (7)

As we neared the Tibetan Dumpling Cafe (TDC)–a quick walk from the subway–the five-colored prayer flags strung across the storefront were more effective than any sign in telling us that we had reached our destination. Needless to say, it was much easier to get to than Lhasa Fast Food (LFF) and Phayul.

Upon entering, I realized right away that this was a different type of restaurant than either LFF or Phayul:  the setting was much more spacious and closer to that of a traditional sit-down restaurant. Definitely a place you might go out to for dinner or a date. Sitting down, I noticed that the tableware surprisingly well-thoughtout–the cups were metallic with copper detailing and the water jug was one you’d see at a more “hip” brunch spot. Like the other Tibetan restaurants, the kitchen was open and we could see the chefs and waitresses bustling around behind the counter. Overall, I would describe the ambiance as rustic with a modern twist.

Because I had researched the menu beforehand (and because we were ravenous), I quickly ordered the lhaping and cheley khatsa , with the chili sauce for each on the side.

While waiting, I noticed that the waitresses alternated taking care of the in-store customers and taking orders over the phone. I would say that they probably get a good chunk of business from deliveries. During the time that we were there, there were two or three other groups of people eating in the restaurant–not bad for Sunday noon.

For our meal, we started with the lhaping, which is sliced mung bean jelly with garlic, soy sauce, and sesame oil.

It was good (quite standard, since there are many comparable dishes in Chinese cuisine) and a refreshing dish to start the meal with. I think that the mung bean jelly is made by dissolving mung bean starch in water through boiling, then letting the solution cool and jellify (my dad makes an almost identical appetizer using this method at home). I tried some of the chili sauce by itself and found that it wasn’t very flavorful but had quite a kick.

The cheley khatsa–sliced beef tongue sauteed with onions, red and green peppers–looked deceivingly spicy at first because of the reddish-orange sauce. However, a tentative bite proved my eyes wrong for the dish was not spicy at all. The sauce the beef tongue and vegetables were cooked in reminded me of (and probably was composed mostly of) what is called doubanjiang in Chinese. Doubanjiang is salty, often spicy, paste made from fermented broad beans, soybeans, rice and other spices. For those of you who haven’t had beef tongue before, the texture resembles a very lean but smooth cut of meat. I really enjoyed this dish, especially when eaten with the gigantic tingmo that came with it.

The tingmo was very fluffy and the way it was folded made it look like a brain. I couldn’t tell if the tingmo was made in-house or elsewhere because it seemed almost too perfect to be have been made by hand.

Having appeased our stomachs (for the time being), we left TDC and made our way towards Gakyizompe.

Address: 37-50 74th St, Ste 3750, Jackson Heights, NY 11372
Subway: 74th St-Broadway (7), Jackson Heights-Roosevelt Ave (E,F,M,R)

The phrase “hole-in-the-wall” doesn’t do this little restaurant justice. Hidden behind several storefronts on (street), Lhasa Fast Food would have been nearly impossible to find if my friend had not scouted out the area before. To get to the restaurant, we had to enter a small shopping complex, pass through a set of clear doors, turn right into a narrow hallway flanked by small retailers, then turn left before we reached the cozy couple hundred square feet that is Lhasa Fast Food.

The first thing that grabbed my attention inside was a picture of the Dalai Lama placed on a false roof above the kitchen. In the picture, the Dalai Lama looked like he was just about to wave and say hello. His expression was so enthusiastic that I couldn’t help but smile before looking down to search for a place to sit. There were no empty tables, so we joined a lady who seemed to be finishing her meal. I knew I wanted to try the beef momos, but wasn’t sure what else to get. When the lone waitress came by to take our order, I asked her in Chinese what their most popular dishes were. Through pointing and some broken Chinese, she told me that the momos and thenthuk were what people usually ordered. Beef and chives momos and thenthuk it was.

While waiting for the food to come, I couldn’t help but want to see what the chefs were doing in the kitchen. My curiosity got the better of me and I ended up asking the waitress if I could go behind the counter and watch the cooks. I stood in the middle of the kitchen and stared, fascinated, at the two cooks bustling around the kitchen. I learned that Ta Shi was from Amdo–the Gansu province–and Sang Jien Ben from Sichuan. Ta Shi showed me how to fold the momos, which were rounded like Chinese soup dumplings, and explained that the rounded-style of folding is the “Amdo style.”

The momos that are folded in a more linear fashion (like potstickers and gyoza) are more of the Central Tibet or “Lhasa”-style. To demonstrate the difference, Ta Shi made a Lhasa-style dumpling. I learned that momos are made from an un-yeasted dough and filled with either some sort of meat, chives, or a mixture of the two. Eight momos are places in a bamboo steamer basket and steamed for eight minutes.

Meanwhile, Sang Jien Bien rolled out a ball of dough into a thin pancake and sliced it up into long strips about an inch in width. To make the dough pieces for the thenthuk, he would take a strip over to the boiling pot of broth and quickly and deftly rip pieces of dough off and into the soup. I asked him why he does this step by hand instead of cutting the dough into squares. His answer roughly translates to: “doing so makes each piece more special” The thenthuk pieces reminded me of a pasta-type dish from my parents’ hometown in China, Xi’an, called ma shi. or ma shi-er. To make it at home, my dad would cut up a flat disk of dough into small quadrilaterals that we would then press and roll with our thumbs. The indented pieces were then cooked in boiling water.

Jien Bien also pointed out these round, yellow mung bean sheets in the corner that he rolled and sliced up into strips and seasoned with minced garlic, soy sauce, chili oil, vinegar, and a scallions. He called the dish laping.

I asked the two more about themselves and learned that they moved to the U.S. 11 years ago. They started working at LFF several years ago and said that business is quite good. Even though the space in the restaurant–if you can even call it that–is limited, there was a constant stream of customers and orders, both in-house and over the phone.

When our food was ready, I left the kitchen and sat back down. The momos, fresh off the steamer, had a semi-translucent skin that allowed some of the green of the chives inside to show through.

Carefully biting into one, I quickly realized that they had given us the wrong type of momo: the filling was just chives instead of beef and chives. They still tasted delicious though and the filling was surprisingly flavorful and juicy, considering it was just chives. The thenthuk came as a steaming bowl of sliced beef, the little “noodles”, green and red bell peppers, vermicelli, spring onions, and white radish in a light broth that had a touch of chili oil. I added some soy sauce to the thenthuk because the broth was quite light in flavor. It was very reminiscent of the hot noodle soups that my parents would throw together back home using whatever was left in the fridge. 

As we were finishing up our meal, Jien Bien shouted to me from the kitchen to try some of the butter tea, or su you cha in Chinese. The waitress pour us each a cup rom a very large thermos jug near the counter. The tea was very smooth and slightly sweet, much like the more mainstream milk tea. I know from experience that the actual butter tea Tibetan drink is much more viscous and buttery. However, I have to say that I definitely enjoyed this watered-down version much more than the authentic kind.

Our bellies warm with momos and thenthuk, we bid farewell to the friendly waitress and cooks. Next stop: Phayul.