A short trip to MontAsia, home of chef Lee Johnson and Montana-Malaysian cuisine
By Rachel Hergett EBS COLUMNIST
One question seems to be on the minds of everyone I meet lately: variations on “are you going anywhere this summer?”
I’m never sure how to answer. Have I already traveled hundreds of miles over old, rutted highways and single-lane dirt—ok, mud—roads? Have I explored mountain ranges? Have I crossed countless rivers, streams and creeks—some pronounced “cricks,” in a set of geography-based grammatical “rules” passed down from my Bozeman-born grandfather?
Yes.
But the ability to traverse this majestic state, to find gems along its backroads and among its smallest communities, is something that makes me feel most at home. “Going,” it seems, is relative. My plan for the summer is to stay “home” in Montana, wherever that takes me.
One early June afternoon, my wanderings led me to Fishtail, a community of less than 500 in the foothills of the Beartooths. I wasn’t there to fish, though that is definitely an option. I was there for MontAsia, home of chef Lee Johnson, who most simply call “chef.” Johnson was a semifinalist for best chef in the Mountain region in the 2024 James Beard Awards and the restaurant is known for Asian fusion dishes. How could I not want to try his food?
The address is 15 W. Main St. in Fishtail, but it’s hard to miss once you find the tiny town. Despite the late spring drizzle, I swear the scent of the restaurant carried all the way to downtown Absarokee, six miles down the road, where I had been touring a cousin’s new home. It was a Sunday evening, and the restaurant was packed. But after a little groveling, promising I was in no rush but eager for a taste, Johnson’s wife Yokie let me take a seat at the bar. The pair, I learn, met in a kitchen while studying at Montana State University.
At MontAsia, my plan was to order food to-go and get out of their hair. It may not be as pretty all packaged up, but it tastes the same. I was, however, persuaded into a cocktail by the reverse of the drink menu, with its list of specialty gins and suggestions for mixtures with tonic or juice. I love the simplicity of a gin and tonic, allowing the gin to shine among the tangy bubbles, as my Japanese gin selection certainly did.
Food on the menu combines local ingredients and dishes fitting of a Montana ranch with Yokie’s Malaysian Cantonese family recipes. There’s a burger and steak with French fries, but also yak curry and house-made soy sauce and chili crisp. Keeping in mind the full house, I went smaller than I normally would when trying out a new place to share with you, and only ordered a few dishes. This was not the best of choices, as I drool over options I missed each time I have consulted the menu to write about the meal.
But I did order the coconut shrimp, which had a lovely floral note in its light crispy coating and paired perfectly with the Maui chicken sandwich. This was hands down the best grilled chicken sandwich I have ever had the pleasure of eating. And damn was it pretty. Picture a tender, juicy marinated chicken breast—already a hard ask in most restaurants—topped with what Chef calls “mimosa cukes,” cucumbers soaked in orange juice and champagne, adding tanginess, sweetness and crunch. A kale slaw provides the base inside the bottom bun and a handful of edible flowers peek from the edges. It’s glorious.
I’m also glad I didn’t resist the mini key lime pie, a classic with a graham cracker crust and just the right balance of tart and sweet.
Among more info about Chef and Yokie on the menu, which makes me feel a bit like I know them as more than the blurred flashes rushing to help customers, I learn that the current location has been home to a bar or restaurant for the last 125 years. Looking around MontAsia, I see an interesting mix of old Montana bar and modern Asian, tying right in with the ideas of fusing the foods of Montana and Malaysia. I have reservations about how well it works in decor, with angular koi fish sculptures hung on wood paneled and branded walls. I do not have reservations about how well it works in Johnson’s cuisine.
Take the whiskey beef noodles, where steak strips from a local ranch mingle with a savory whiskey gravy and homemade five spice over noodles that are thick, tender and obviously homemade.
Chef’s cooking, and this dish especially, feels like a hug. It’s comfort food that speaks across continents, yet only adds to my idea that wherever I am in Montana, I am home.
