Cooking for the Everest generation
There are certain places in the world that become crossroads for extraordinary people.
Kathmandu is one of them.
For generations it has been the gateway to the Himalayas – drawing climbers, explorers and expedition teams from across the world as they prepare to attempt the highest mountains on Earth. My own journey to Nepal had begun a few years earlier under rather unusual circumstances – a story I share in “What brought you to Kathmandu?”
I had already caught a glimpse of that world myself during an Everest Base Camp trek, standing high above the Khumbu Valley on Kala Patthar with Everest rising behind me. I shared that moment on Instagram in this post.
Somewhere between that trek and my return to Kathmandu, the idea for Kilroys had quietly taken hold.
But when I later returned to the city as a young chef, I had no idea that I was stepping into the social orbit of the Everest climbing community.
Over time, many of those climbers would find their way to Kilroys of Kathmandu.
By the late 1990s Kathmandu was the staging ground for expeditions heading into the Himalayas, and restaurants like Kilroy’s often became informal gathering places for climbers before and after their time on Everest.
Some came for a final meal before leaving for the mountain. Others arrived weeks later – exhausted, sunburnt and quietly proud after returning from the summit. Those were always special evenings.
But one moment stands out above all the others…
Cooking for Sir Edmund Hillary
In May 2003 the world marked the 50th anniversary of Sir Edmund Hillary’s historic first successful ascent of Mount Everest which he achieved with Sherpa mountaineer Tenzing Norgay on 29th May 1953. A few weeks before the anniversary, the British Ambassador in Kathmandu phoned me. “Thomas, could you cater for around 200 guests at my residence?”
“Of course,” I said. “It would be an honour.” Sir Edmund himself would be attending as the guest of honour. As the weeks passed the numbers kept climbing.
Two hundred guests became five hundred.
Five hundred became seven hundred.
By the time the evening arrived, nearly nine hundred people had gathered inside the British Embassy compound in Kathmandu.
The event was being covered by CNN and the BBC – and everywhere you looked there were climbers wearing white Everest Beer T–shirts. Every single one of them had summited Everest. It was the largest gathering of Everest summiteers the world had ever seen.
For any chef and their kitchen team, it was a busy night. For me it was the culmination of everything I had worked for in putting our restaurant on the map. With great anticipation, Sir Edmund arrived later in the evening, tired from his journey from Delhi and seated quietly in a wheelchair. The ambassador’s wife slipped into our busy kitchen and asked if I would like to meet him. Of course I said yes. I was nervous, and had been going over what might actually say to him all that day.
When I was introduced, I shook Sir Edmund’s hand and said:
“Sir Edmund, it is a huge honour to cook for you tonight. I was wondering what one should say on an occasion like this an all I can think of is this; you have dedicated your life to mountain climbing – and I’m dedicating mine to social climbing. Would you like some fish and chips?”
As rehearsed, my restaurant manager Hari quickly stepped forward with a tray of mini fish and chips served in newspaper cones – a small nod to the British seaside tradition.
Sir Edmund laughed as he eagerly tucked in. Leaving him to enjoy his food, I joined the guests and was introduced to mountaineer Mick Murphy from Cork, Ireland who was on the summit just a few nights before to become the first Irish person to summit Mount Everest from the Nepal side just as Hilary had done 50 years before.
For a chef living and cooking in Kathmandu, it was a night I will never forget – and I remain hugely proud of the team who helped serve nine hundred guests on such a remarkable occasion.
A restaurant for the Everest fraternity
Living and working in Kathmandu at that time meant being surrounded by what could only be described as the Everest generation. I’m told the lucky day for summiting Everest is 29th May (when the weather is traditionally at it’s finest and in deference to that first summit by Hilary!… so climbers constantly pass through the city – preparing for expeditions, celebrating summits, or simply resting after weeks in the mountains.
Over time, Kilroys became one of the places they returned to.
Occasionally that produced moments that still seem slightly surreal. I remember once receiving a phone call from expedition leader Russell Brice asking if he could move a reservation forward by a day because his team had just successfully placed thirty–two climbers on the summit of Everest.
The line was really bad so I asked where he was phoning from. As the wind howled around him, he shouted into the phone: “I’M PHONING FROM EVEREST BASE CAMP” .
It gave a whole new meaning to the phrase “Have you booked!?”
Some of the most remarkable figures in mountaineering history sat at our tables – including Sir Reinhold Messner (the first person to climb all fourteen mountains over 8,000 metres without oxygen), Alan Hinkes OBE, (the sixth person and first Briton to claim the same feat), Babu Chiri Sherpa (summited Everest 10 times and once spent 21 hours on the summit without auxiliary oxygen - a record that still stands today), and ‘Super Sherpa’ Apa, who summited Everest 21 times before retiring in 2011.
For many climbers, Kilroys was that Oasis you had to discover where they could enjoy a final relaxed evening in Kathmandu before heading toward Everest Base Camp.
And when they returned weeks later, that sense of relief - especially for me - and celebration was always palpable.
Looking back now, it still feels extraordinary that a restaurant in Thamel somehow became part of that world.
For a few remarkable years, Kilroys of Kathmandu became one of the places where climbers gathered after scaling the highest mountains on Earth.
And who knows? Maybe it can. be again as we contemplate Coming home to an idea that never left.
From mountain climbing to social climbing…
