If you’re as obsessed with Tibetan dumplings as I am, you are no stranger to the importance of bite sized bliss that a single piece of momo can present. The light pastries encapsulate an a mouthwatering little ball of ground meat, amply spiced with garlic, ginger, a little bit of chili and salt.
I’m not good at following recipes, but roughly, 250 grams of meet will wield at least 30 momo, and if the mix includes a thumb-sized ginger stick as well as 7-8 cloves of garlic, a bit of cilantro and some chilli flakes and salt for garnish, and you’ve got the basic mix. Of course, if you’re like me, you get adventures and start substituting ingredients such as the ground beef for some bokchoy, spring onions and mushrooms, or leave out the garlic out of the recipe altogether, but what I’ve come to learn is that making momo is pretty easy. To get the moon shape on the dough, you need to wet half the dough after stuffing it with meat, with water, and then quickly fold and knead.
My latest ventures have also yielded a delectable momo sauce, which is made with about 5 tomatoes, thinly diced, being sauteed with a dash of olive oil, 7-8 cloves of garlic, and a liberal dosage of red chilli flakes (and of course, salt to taste).
This was what resulted. I must say I’m pretty happy with my summer tribute to one of the most staple parts of my upbringing in North India, where as boarding school attendees, we awaited the entire week until we reached the weekend, just so we could go to the bazaar, often walking an hour each way for the plate of delicious momo we found in little shops in and around the hillside in Mussoorie.