An ode to Bhutan's buckwheat noodles

A soba-lover discovers how buckwheat breathes life into Bumthang's chilled, chilli-laden noodles

- Julian Manning

Dried buckwheat noodles at Swiss House in Bumthang; and (below) a traditional 'puta' noodle-maker.

(PHOTOGRAPHS BY JULIAN MANNING)

When outsiders talk about Bhutan, there's praise aplenty—blue skies, green vales and cliffhanging monasteries. But the good words rarely seem to extend to its food.

The superlatives suddenly switch to unapproving adverbs, the food of the “happiest, most beautiful land” is met with “too spicy, too cheesy, too limited”. Royal Enfield's recent 10 day Tour of Bhutan was an opportunity to journey beyond tourist hot spots and explore Bhutan’s buckwheat noodles, puta.

While the name is a head-turner for a Spanish-speaker like myself (because it is a pejorative), my curiosity was fuelled by its lore: a delicacy eaten on Bhutan's day of nine evils to ward off the spirits by devouring what look like “bowls full of worms”. I enjoy buckwheat noodles to the extent I've taken soba-making classes in Japan. The idea that the fertile fields of the first carbon-neutral country could be the source of buckwheat noodles as prized as those of the Nagano Prefecture was one I had to chase on the road. And after a week on the tour, rumbling through the mountain passes of Paro, Thimpu and Phobjikha, feasting on views of misty valleys and steaming bowls/fuls of red rice and pork, I had arrived for my bowl of worms in Bumthang, Bhutan’s buckwheat cradle.