This little corner of Palmerston Lane, the alley that runs behind the shop fronts at Manuka, has been a Nepalese restaurant of one stripe or another for years. When I first came to Canberra, it was just called Himalaya. Then it changed name, and presumably ownership, to Taste of Himalaya. And now it's Chomolungma, named after one of the highest peaks in the world.

Although the name and owners might have changed, the layout remains the same - tucked away in the lane that runs from Furneaux Street to Flinders Way, among the delivery pallets for retail stores and the hastily stopped cars of people trying to get an ONA coffee without paying for parking. A quirk of interior design means that you enter the restaurant and are immediately confronted with a flight of stairs descending to the basement and the loos. Diners are seated in two narrow wings on either side of this stairwell and big picture windows offer a good spot for people watching. You could also use them to look out for the mate who has volunteered to do a bottle-shop run - this is BYO only.

Someone once described Nepalese cooking to me as a happy meeting of India and China - you can get both dumplings and a curry. This is certainly the way we want to eat tonight. So to start with a plate of momo ($7.90 for six) or Nepali steamed dumplings. These are prettily crimped, perfectly juicy and come with a spicy little tomato and sesame sauce for dipping. Chhoyela ($9.50) turns out to be slices of beef seasoned with ginger, chilli and fenugreek and served in a blanket of red onion on a bed of puffed rice. It's a pleasurable mix of textures, although the beef could be a little more tender.

The mainstay of the menu appears to be the thali section. Thali simply means "plate" in Tamil and Hindi - and I presume it means the same in Nepali, a reference to the metal platters divvied up into little compartments that you fill with rice, dhal, curry, condiments. A thali looks a bit like an airplane food service tray except filled with food that's actually edible, with lots of flavour, and is both delicious and mostly good for you. Chomolungma's thalis come in a variety of flavours, including a scramble of vegetables; goat, chicken and beef curries; or stir fried noodles ("chau chau").

A well set thali is a pleasing and beautifully ordered thing. There's the main compartment filled with a mound of white rice (this time with a bowl of dhal balanced next to it). Chunks of goat curry or a heap of vegetables round out the next big compartment. And then the rest of the little satellite compartments play host to condiments - a ladleful of secondary curry, a scoop of achar or chutneyed vegetables, a dab of something bright red and super hot that you really only want in tiny quantities. Everything is in its place and you can make up your meal as you desire. The goat curry ($21.50) is suitably soft with plenty of spice and interest, while the vegetable thali ($16.90) offers a good, well mixed selection of greens and grains.

A spankingly tart accompaniment to all this is the chickpea salad ($10.50) - a tumble of cucumber, chickpeas, onions, puffed rice and herbs all freshened up liberally with a spray of lime juice. It's a crunchy sour rice bubble bowl that's both a pop of colour and a smack to the face. Perhaps it packs a little too much punch.

Desserts include a millet pancake that we will probably see in paleo cookbooks or gluten-free blogs six months from now, which is a healthful shade of golden brown and tastes sweetly nutty. It's drizzled with chocolate and scattered with sliced strawberries and bananas, possibly in a nod to Western palates.

Head out for something a little different, order a dozen momo and choose your thali wisely.