New restaurant in Fishers hits the yak-pot in Himalayan cuisine

The frigid, oxygen-poor Himalayan mountains are uninhabitable for many species. Fortunately for yak, their thick wool, robust circulatory systems and hyper-efficient digestive tracts allow them to thrive in this unforgiving environment.

Unfortunately for yak — historically an abundant food source in a vegetation-scarce region — they are also quite tasty.

Take the yak momo from Yak and Yeti Himalayan Cuisine in Fishers, for example.

A swirl of semitranslucent dough pinches around generously seasoned ground yak meat and aromatic vegetables. It’s exactly what a dumpling should be, sticky and supple. It subtly wobbles back and forth with your knife as you slice into it, coaxing out a little ripple of steam.

The yak tastes familiar but becomes more complex as it crumbles apart in your mouth. You might think it’s just an especially herbaceous meatball if not for the distinct grassy notes that tease your throat and nose.

Momo is one of several bites available for your thali, or plate, at Yak and Yeti. The restaurant's menu spans familiar South Asian dishes like tikka masala and tandoori chicken to less familiar ones, including the curious yak dumpling.

The yak served at Yak and Yeti, which opened its Fishers location in September, hails from Spring Brook Ranch in Kalispell, Montana.

Per Spring Brook’s website, the bloodlines of its Tibetan yak are “found in almost every herd of merit in the country.” Indeed, the piece of the herd that wound up on my plate seemed amply meritorious.

Ranjati Gurung, a manager at Yak and Yeti, said most of her customers are first-timers to yak, but eager to try. She estimates roughly half of Yak and Yeti’s sales are Nepalese staples like yak.

Maybe you’re in the half that prefers something more mainstream. Well, how about a meat regularly consumed in countries that together comprise well over half the world’s population?

It’s not exactly American barbecue, but the goat kadai is well worth your appetite.

Chunks of meat, bell pepper and onion simmer in an herby curry in a deep, circular pot called a kadai. The goat doesn’t melt in your mouth by any means, but the chew is pleasant and steadily turns the robust meat from slightly gamey to profoundly savory. Where more tender meats might get overshadowed, the goat was robust enough to stand up to the piquant tomato sauce.

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Sagar Tamang, owner and co-founder of Yak and Yeti’s original Evansville location, which opened in 2019, called goat the main meat of the Himalayan region. Historically, Nepali people relied heavily on the relatively inexpensive, widely available livestock staple.

“We use every part of the goat,” Tamang said.

That includes bones, which could challenge less adventurous diners. I pass no judgment on the boneless, skinless chicken breast loyalists of the world, but I encourage you to fortify your nerves and splash into the kadai head-first. If cutting around bone and connective tissue simply isn’t for you, I bet the chow mein on the menu might also be delicious — but I’d argue the best things in life are worth working for.

Like Tamang said, “Every piece is a different taste.”

I enjoyed each one I tried.

Time for dessert

If your stomach still has some fight left after the spicy, savory gauntlet, something light and sweet is in order. Yak and Yeti offers four desserts; I opted for the pista kulfi.

Kulfi is flavored milk slow-cooked until it becomes thick and its sugars caramelize. Often served on a stick, the frozen treat has the familiar consistency of a Fudgesicle, too firm to scoop with a spoon but soft enough to bite. After the kulfi subtly crunches under your teeth, cool cream and a refreshing pistachio flavor coat your mouth, an excellent chaser for all that fenugreek and cumin.

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There’s no rubric for what you must order at Yak and Yeti. Each dish packs enough distinct flavor to stand on its own yet plays off the others well. Nothing stops you from using the toasty, salty paneer naan to mop up leftover curry or the zesty tamarind dipping sauce that comes with your complimentary papadam.

While I encourage you to escape your comfort zone, I realize it’s easy to get intimidated by unfamiliar foods. Nobody wants to be the guy brutally mispronouncing menu items or sawing into traditional handheld food with a fork and knife — not that I would know anything about either.

Still, I don’t think the average American has any reason to fear a cuisine that prominently features what boils down to the meat and dairy of a large domestic cattle. If you have no qualms downing a cheeseburger and milkshake prepared with all the tender, loving care of a teenager earning $12 per hour, I believe you can manage the fare at Yak and Yeti.

Unless they decide to put yeti on the menu, too, you should be just fine.

Contact dining and drinks reporter Bradley Hohulin at bhohulin@gannett.com. You can follow him on Twitter @bradleyhohulin.

This article originally appeared on Indianapolis Star: Yak and Yeti in Fishers specializes in Himalayan fare, including yak