Lhasa

zàng miàn

Short, springy wheat noodles, usually par-cooked and dried in advance, served in a clear yak-bone broth with a scattering of minced yak meat and spring onion. The default working breakfast in Lhasa.

Tastes like: Mild, clean and gently meaty — almost under-seasoned by Chinese standards, so you add chilli and vinegar yourself.

Not on the menu but in it: The broth is yak bone, and some tea houses enrich it with a spoon of yak butter. Not vegetarian.

Might not be for you: Nothing difficult. The noodles can be chewier and the portion smaller than you expect.

Where: Sweet tea houses across the Barkhor and Beijing Road area; 8-15 CNY a bowl.

sūyóu chá

Brick tea churned with yak butter and salt into an emulsion, drunk all day and refilled constantly by your host. The everyday fuel of the Tibetan plateau.

Tastes like: Salty, oily and savoury rather than sweet — much closer to a thin buttery broth than to tea.

Not on the menu but in it: Heavy dairy, which catches out visitors who assume Chinese drinks are dairy-free; traditional versions use aged yak butter.

Might not be for you: This is the one most Western visitors struggle with. Older butter develops a sharp rancid-cheese note on top of the saltiness, and the oily mouthfeel sits badly when you are already queasy from altitude. Try a small cup before committing, and know that refusing politely is normal.

Where: Any Tibetan restaurant or monastery tea house; often sold by the thermos.

tián chá

Black tea boiled with milk and sugar, served by the glass in Lhasa's tea houses where you leave coins on the table and staff keep topping you up.

Tastes like: Sweet, creamy and comforting — essentially a good Indian-style chai without the spice.

Not on the menu but in it: Milk and often milk powder; sugar levels are high.

Might not be for you: Nothing at all. If butter tea defeats you, order this instead — almost every visitor likes it.

Where: Old Guangming Gangqiong tea house (老光明岗琼甜茶馆) near Beijing Road and dozens of similar halls; 3-5 CNY a glass.

niúròu bāozi / zàngshì jiǎozi

Pleated wheat dumplings filled with minced yak meat, onion and fat, steamed or sometimes pan-fried. A juice-filled, hand-sized parcel.

Tastes like: Rich and beefy with a mild onion sweetness; the trapped broth is the point.

Not on the menu but in it: Yak fat is mixed into the filling for juiciness. Vegetable momos exist in traveller-facing restaurants but not in local tea houses.

Might not be for you: Bite a small hole first or the hot fat squirts. Yak is gamier and leaner than beef.

Where: Tea houses and Tibetan restaurants everywhere; 2-5 CNY each.

zānba

Roasted barley flour kneaded by hand in a bowl with yak butter, tea and sometimes sugar or cheese powder into a stiff dough you eat in pinches. The traditional Tibetan staple.

Tastes like: Nutty, toasty and buttery, lightly salty, with a dry dense texture.

Not on the menu but in it: Yak butter and sometimes dried cheese are mixed in — again, dairy where visitors do not expect it. Barley contains gluten.

Might not be for you: Very dry and dense; it absorbs moisture in the mouth and is hard to swallow without tea. The buttery smell is strong.

Where: Traditional Tibetan restaurants and monastery kitchens; often part of a set meal.

fēnggān niúròu

Strips of yak meat hung to dry in the cold dry plateau air through winter, then eaten raw as a snack or lightly fried with chilli.

Tastes like: Intensely beefy and concentrated, salty, with a deep aged savour.

Not on the menu but in it: Normally just yak and salt; fried versions use yak butter or vegetable oil.

Might not be for you: Eaten uncooked and extremely tough — some pieces need real chewing. The aged smell is pronounced, and raw air-dried meat is a food-safety judgement call.

Where: Tibetan restaurants and dry-goods shops around the Barkhor; sold by weight.

zàngshì huǒguō

A communal pot of mild yak-bone broth with yak meat, mutton, meatballs, hand-cut noodles, radish, potato and leafy greens — closer to a Northeast Asian stew than to Sichuan hotpot.

Tastes like: Mild, clean and savoury; the broth is barely spiced, and heat comes from a side dish of chilli.

Not on the menu but in it: Yak-bone broth with butter; processed meatballs and fish cakes often contain egg and wheat starch.

Might not be for you: Boils slowly at altitude — water boils at about 86°C in Lhasa, so food takes noticeably longer and meat can come out underdone. Give it time.

Where: Anduo Nuozeng (安多诺增藏餐) and Makye Ame among others; a shared pot is the usual group order.

shíbǎn kǎo niúròu

Slices of yak sirloin brought to the table on a scorching stone slab or in a stone pot, cooking in front of you with a little butter and salt.

Tastes like: Straightforwardly meaty, lightly salted, with a browned crust; yak tastes leaner and gamier than beef.

Not on the menu but in it: Cooked in yak butter at most places; dipping salt sometimes contains MSG and soy powder.

Might not be for you: Nothing difficult — the most approachable thing on a Tibetan restaurant menu for a cautious eater.

Where: Makye Ame (玛吉阿米) on the Barkhor and most tourist-facing Tibetan restaurants.

zàngshì suānnǎi / suānnǎi bǐng

Thick set yoghurt made from yak or cow milk, eaten with sugar spooned over the top, or layered with biscuit crumb and raisins into a chilled 'yoghurt cake'.

Tastes like: Sharply sour and very thick, with a skin of cream on top; the cake version is sweet and tangy.

Not on the menu but in it: Full dairy; cake versions contain wheat biscuit and sometimes walnut. Yak yoghurt is much higher in fat than supermarket yoghurt.

Might not be for you: Much more sour than Western yoghurt, and the fat content can be heavy on an altitude-sensitive stomach.

Where: Tibetan restaurants, Barkhor street stalls and the yoghurt stands near Jokhang Temple.

qīngkē jiǔ

Home-brewed or bottled drinks fermented from highland barley — the farmhouse version (chang) is cloudy and low in alcohol, the commercial version is a clear spirit.

Tastes like: The cloudy brew is sour, yeasty and faintly sweet; the spirit is sharp and grainy.

Not on the menu but in it: Barley, so not gluten-free; home brews are unfiltered and of unpredictable strength.

Might not be for you: Alcohol hits considerably harder at 3,650 m and worsens altitude symptoms and dehydration. Skip it entirely for your first couple of days.

Where: Tibetan restaurants and village homestays; bottled versions in any shop.