Columns

The food in Bhutan isn’t about indulgence — it’s about belonging. Staying at Pemako Punakha, I discovered a cuisine shaped by altitude, ritual, and a devotion to warmth. Here, chillies are vegetables, not seasoning. Butter tea comforts the body like silk in winter. Every plate — from ema datshi’s molten spice to shakam paa’s smoky salt — carries the quiet rhythm of the valley. This is dining as dialogue: between land and flavour, fire and calm. The chefs speak of balance, of patience, of food as memory. I came to rest in Bhutan’s serenity — and left tasting its soul.