bodyType

customContents

entityId

entityUuid

articlePageQuery

filter

article

articleBaseAdvertisingInfoArticle

articleListArticle

articleSeoArticle

helpersCheckIsPostiesArticle

hooksArticleAcknowledgementGateOverlayArticle

hooksTrackPageViewArticle

hooksContentInterestArticle

articleLinkingDataContent

articleSchemaContent

liveArticle

advertZone

sentiment

contentLock

topics

types

sections

moreOnThisArticles

urlAlias

commentCount

sponsorType

authorLocations

authors

paywallTypes

corrections

displaySlideShow

multimediaEmbed

printHeadline

seriesContainer

socialHeadline

headline

flag

firstTopic

glossary

flattenTypeIds

publishedDate

additionalInfoBoxes

images

image

relatedLinks

relatedNewsletters

__typename

createdDate

sponsor

factSheets

series

disableOffPlatformContent

published

updatedDate

summary

subHeadline

body

keywords

copyrighted

customTimezone

liveContents

Minaam Shah

It isn’t the smell of smoke that greets you when you walk through the doors of Lhasa, it’s the sight of it.
Located beneath the Zabarwan hills and just across from Dal Lake, the partly open-air restaurant seems out of place among the eateries that dot the iconic Boulevard Road of Srinagar, Kashmir.
The roof isn’t a typical Kashmiri one, either. It is in the style of the pagodas of the Tibetan highlands.
Inside, not Kashmiri but traditional Chinese lanterns cast a red glow over dozens of portraits of Tibet.
In short, it is clear that the food isn’t the only thing special about this place.
When Abdul Rehman Zareif opened this restaurant in 1976, he felt duty bound to do more than just feed people. He had a culture to preserve.
“For my father, this restaurant was not just a source of livelihood, but rather a means of keeping our traditions alive,” said Ahmad Zareif, one of Rehman’s sons, who now runs the restaurant with his two siblings.
Taste of freedom: how coronavirus is changing Asia’s relationship to food
“The Tibetan food reminded my father of his village and his childhood. Each dish gives rise to nostalgia; they are redolent of times gone by, of home, of celebrations and feasts, of love and loss.”
In 1959, his father Abdul Rehman had been among the thousands of Tibetans who followed the Buddhist spiritual leader, the 14th Dalai Lama, to India following a failed uprising against Chinese rule.
While the ensuing crackdown largely targeted the Buddhist population, the communist authorities also banned some 3,000 Tibetan Muslims living in Central Tibet from practising Islam and it was this that led Abdul Rehman to the conflict-ridden Kashmir valley in search of a new home for his family.

‘Cultural memory’
For these displaced Tibetans, food runs deep.
Within the community, food has become a collective cultural memory “which functions both as an identity builder and also a tool to gather greater acceptability among the host community”, said Qasim Naqash, a fellow at the South Asian Migration Project.
While the Zareifs mostly serve Tibetan food, they also offer Kashmiri dishes. Indeed, the menu at Lhasa is meant to reflect how the Tibetan community in Kashmir has managed to hold on to its cultural identity while at the same time building a relationship with the locals.
Curry is British, pizza is Japanese
It’s a relationship that has come under severe strain since the Indian government revoked Kashmir’s autonomy. Controversially, the move by New Delhi allows for non-locals (including Tibetans) to buy land in Kashmir, stoking fears among locals that the demographics of the area will change beyond recognition.
As news of the revocation spread in 2019, militant groups attacked and killed many non-locals, though Tibetan refugees were spared. Many Tibetans credit the popularity of their food for this.
“You see food precedes everything else when it comes to bringing cultures together,” explained one Tibetan customer at Lhasa.
“Once our food was accepted, naturally, we were also accepted as a part and parcel of Kashmiri society.”

A momo in time
There are some 2,000 Tibetan refugees living in Kashmir. Ninety per cent of those in Srinagar lives in a neighbourhood known as the Tibetan Colony.
Squeezed in between two Mughal-era arched entrances, this small yet busy locality is the closest thing the Tibetans have to home. It includes some 200 small, packed quarters in which the Tibetans live, a school where the Dalai Lama gave a speech in 2012 and hordes of new, sprawling joints selling momos – Tibetan steamed dumplings filled with meat or vegetables.
One of the most popular momo joints is owned by Shafiq, who agrees with the theory that food is a big reason why the Tibetan refugees have assimilated so effortlessly.
“We have more Kashmiri customers than Tibetans here. In fact, many [Kashmiris] believe that momos are a local delicacy,” Shafiq said. “And naturally, they assume us as their own as well”.

Momos are shaped like half-moons or plump purses. And although they can be made with store-bought wrappers, most Tibetan households in Kashmir have a small wooden dowel reserved for rolling out the thin rounds of dough.
Back in Tibet, wheat was even scarcer than meat, so momos were treats for special occasions like Losar, the Tibetan New Year celebration.
But in Kashmir, Tibetans cook momos more often, partly for the nostalgia but also because it brings them closer to the host community.
This closeness was again tested this week. In a spate of targeted attacks, militant groups shot six non- Kashmiris, citing demographic changes in the valley as their motivation.
Still, as in 2019, the Tibetans consider themselves as safe as any other Kashmiri.
“Food is saving the day for us”, Shafiq said.


Small areas of Tibetan Plateau may have outsize impact on East Asia’s spring rains

UK Everest explorer’s remains believed found 100 years after disappearance

At just 18, he’s already climbed all the highest peaks on Earth

Why minority languages are disappearing from some classrooms in Xinjiang but not Tibet

Tibet

How momos spared exiled Tibetans the violence of Kashmir

Abdul Rehman Zareif opened Lhasa in 1976 as a way of keeping Tibetan traditions alive in his new home of Kashmir. Photo: Minaam Shah

The Sangeen Darwaza, an arched entrance to an medieval fort opens to another world enveloped in Srinagar- the colony of Tibetan refugees. Photo: Minaam Shah

Built in 1960's, tibetan colony is a maze of tightly packed refugee quarters and commercial establishments. Photo: Minaam Shah

Started in 1976 by a Tibetan refugee, Lhasa is located at the foothills of Zabarwan hills. Drawing from its popularity, the lane leading to the restaurant is itself known as Lhasa lane. Photo: Minaam Shah

Curry is British, pizza is Japanese: Asia can grow fat on the West’s post-lockdown appetite

The Cup Noodles Museum Hong Kong by Japanese ramen brand Nissin Foods. Photo: Nora Tam

Mobility trends.

A chef cooks ramen in Japan. Photo: Shutterstock

A curry recipe, 1747-style.

Lee Kum Kee premium oyster sauce. Photo: Xiaomei Chen

Kewpie Mayonnaise.

India’s fusion sushi craze sparks call to ‘save’ Japanese dish from tandoori cooking and fate of Nepal’s momos

Sushi doughnut by chef Sam Murphy. Photo: Instagram

Sagar Bajaj, corporate chef of Plum by Bent Chair restaurant in New Delhi which offers 10 types of vegetarian and non-vegetarian sushi. Photo: Handout

Many of India’s chefs – always open to culinary innovation – are now turning their attention to sushi. Photo: SCMP

This Week in Asia

Lifestyle & Culture

News

Asia


In Srinagar, a community of Tibetans who followed the Dalai Lama to India uses food to keep their traditions alive and build relationships with the locals
With their traditional dishes assimilated into Kashmiri culture, the community has found acceptance – and been spared the sectarian violence that followed India’s revocation of Kashmir’s autonomy



With their traditional dishes assimilated into Kashmiri culture, the community has found acceptance – and been spared the sectarian violence that followed India’s revocation of Kashmir’s autonomy.


Kashmir

India

Food and Drinks

14th Dalai Lama