There are moments in life when you set out in search of dinner and instead discover a small,…read morebenevolent corner of the universe.
My wife, acting as both navigator and oracle, found Norbu after I asked for something within walking distance of our hotel. Four Himalayan restaurants, all within a short stroll, which felt statistically suspicious in the heart of Amish country. We chose Norbu because it had the best reviews and, more importantly, because it offered Nepalese and Bhutanese dishes, which none of us had ever tried. We are a family that tries to make it a point to say yes to the unknown.
Finding it is part of the adventure. Norbu is tucked along North Christian Street, though calling it a street feels optimistic at best. It is more of a very committed alley. The restaurant sits inside an office building with a few brave parking spaces placed carefully on postage stamp sized lot out front. Had we been driving, I am certain we would have missed it and continued on, poorer for the experience. Fortunately, we were on foot and arrived intact.
Inside, the place was alive at 7 PM. There were low tables with stools that suggested a more traditional way of dining, and a couple of unoccupied standard tables for those of us still learning. We took one of the latter and were seated quickly.
We began with momo, a dish that seems like could quietly solve many of the world's problems if placed on the right tables. Soft, hand folded dumplings, steamed and served with a savory chutney. We ordered the "Mix It All" option, which gave us vegetable, beef, and chicken. Each had its own personality, its own quiet argument for why it should be your favorite.
My older son ordered the Sweet N Sticky Tofu, which was the most familiar thing we ate all night. It tasted like a thoughtful conversation between General Tso and sesame tofu. Very good, very well executed, just less novel.
I had the Pak Sha Datsi, the national dish of Bhutan, which I did not know until I read it on the menu and our server filled in the missing information with patience and enthusiasm. Norbu itself, we learned, is rooted in Himalayan traditions and a desire to share the food and culture of Nepal and Bhutan with a wider audience, which feels like a noble use of time. The dish arrived as a gently spiced stew with pork and a blend of aged and smoked cheeses. It was creamy, delicate, and somehow grew more interesting with every bite. It did not resemble anything I had eaten before, which is a rare and welcome thing as I grow ever older.
My wife and younger son both ordered the Nepali Thali, a kind of edible symphony made up of curry, lentils, vegetables, chutneys, pickles, and a dessert pudding. My wife chose the fish curry, which was tender and lightly flavored. My son chose the chicken curry, which quietly became the star of the table. It had a familiar warmth, something like Indian curry, but with its own distinct voice. The accompanying mustard greens, curried potatoes, and a simple mix of green beans, corn, and carrots, were so flavorful that we found ourselves marveling at them like tourists at a natural wonder.
Service was excellent. Our waitress guided us through the menu, made thoughtful suggestions, and shared a bit of the restaurant's story. By the end of the meal, we felt not just fed, but informed.
Our only failure was not saving room for dessert. There was a chai flavored cashew cheesecake that sounded like it might change a person's outlook on life. We will have to return to test this theory.
Norbu is the kind of place you hope to find and rarely do. It is hidden, a little hard to reach, and entirely worth the effort. Five stars, because sometimes you find something amazing and new, and that reminds you that the world is still full of good surprises.
