For momo lovers, it’s always the right time. Whether for lunch, tea, or dinner, there is always a momo walla—a street-side vendor, hole-in-the-wall café, or a restaurant, around the block. Until a decade ago, options were limited to the classic steamed variety—a thin wrapper stuffed with minced vegetables or meat, served once the dough turned soft from steaming. Living in Nepal, I began exploring the full steaming spectrum of Himalayan dumplings, or momo, available locally. Even with today’s revamped menus, the classic version remains the most loved across all age groups. Yet, the landscape has expanded: alongside the steamed original, menus now list a vibrant selection of open, kothey, chilli, jhol and sadhekho momo.
Open momo is partially covered in dough leaving the filling exposed through four small openings, to add condiments—coriander, tomato, chilli and soy sauce for a personalised kick. In kothey momo, one side has a crispy golden exterior, offering a delightful contrast with the other side, which has a soft texture. Chilli momo is sauteed in chilli sauce with garlic, ginger, and an assortment of vegetables—onions, tomato and capsicum. Sandheko momo comes tossed with cucumbers, onions, green chillies, tomatoes and coriander, with a hint of spices like salt, chaat masala, garam masala, pepper.
But jhol momo—served in a soupy infusion of tomatoes, sesame, and chilli—is my favourite. Each time I take the first sip of an aromatic broth, the soup immediately awakens my senses. A bite of the delicate dough gives me a burst of textures—the crunch of onions and cabbage from the stuffing. Dumpling, which often comforts me, is a cornerstone in Nepal’s culinary landscape—each fold of the dough transformed by the journey across the regions it has travelled.
Let us rewind. The valley—which comprises Kathmandu, Bhaktapur, and Patan—has a large Newar population, the original inhabitants of the valley. They travelled back and forth between Nepal and Tibet for trade in years past. Some accounts note that momo may have become a staple in kitchens across Nepal through these Newari traders, who brought the dish back from their travels to Tibet. In Tibet, it was known as mog mog; in Newari, it became mamacha; today it’spopular as momo. Others credit the Tibetan settlers who migrated to Nepal’s high mountains over the centuries.
Today, this centuries-old exchange of knowledge and flavours to suit local palates reflects Nepal’s culinary diversity. It spills onto restaurant menus across the country which feature a vibrant selection of Himalayan dumplings, with the popular choices being steamed momo, jhol momo and kothey momo.
“Momo in Nepal has evolved because of [the] influence of the diverse cultures like Newari, Tibetan, Sikkimese, and Darjeeling on the cuisines,” says Naviya Kafle, a food and well-being educator who runs a food newsletter, Dal Bhat Stories.Chefs and home cooks from different communities experiment with preparation styles, flavours, textures, and shapes, diverging significantly from the classic steamed variety and serving the dumplings with tomato, sesame, coriander, soyabeans and peanut-based accompaniments locally called aachars (pickles or dips). For instance, the jhol momo can differ based on which community prepares it. It is served either hot or cold; the latter is a speciality of the Newari community. Hot jhol is slightly reddish-orangish, made with tomato and white sesame.
“The cold jhol is pale and plain, made of lapsi (hog plum), white sesame seed, and coriander. This is the Newari style that does not use a lot of spices,” explains Kafle. Places in Nepal also name their momo after states like Sikkim and the hill town of Darjeeling. Darjeeling-style momo usually has milder stuffing, is shaped like small pleated dumplings and served with just tomato aachar. The pleating style is different too, “usually longer and thinner than others,” observes Kafle. “The mixture [of Darjeeling-style momo] often relies on simple aromatics like garlic, onion, ginger, and a little pepper rather than lots of spices, which makes the filling taste lighter and noticeably juicier,” shares Kafle.
Locally, the momo shape and the pleats indicate whether it is vegetarian or non-vegetarian, with some places pleating their momos differently to signify different meat types. “If you are eating at a local joint [in Kathmandu], you’re most likely going to get the round one [which is non-vegetarian],” stresses Kafle. Vegetarian momo is almost always pleated long to distinguish it from others, whereas “Tibetan momos are long and look like gyozas [Japanese pan-fried dumpling].”
In Nepal, momo is more than just a meal; it is a sentiment. While seen largely as a street food sold in carts or hole-in-the-wall eateries, “It’s also a home food in Nepal, with families having their own unique preparation methods and ingredients—local spices or soy sauce, fostering a competitive spirit and strong personal identity with their preferred momo,” explains Kafle. The act of eating momo served on a steel plate carries strong emotions.
The art of momo-making is a complete package. “The thickness of the skin, the juiciness of the filling, and most importantly, the aachar, which determines the entire flavour profile,” explains Kafle, often defined by localingredients like timur (Sichuan pepper), lapsi, sesame seeds, ginger, peanuts, tomatoes, chilli, coriander, or soyabeans. Despite the momo varieties and local ingredients, the fillings remain narrow—cabbage, carrots and onions, especially for vegetarians. To counter this, chefs are embracing healthier and innovative variations.
“There aren’t many options for stuffing; it’s often limited to cabbage and onion for the vegetarian offering,” said chef Utsav Rai, proprietor of Raico, a momo cloud kitchen in Biratnagar, Nepal. So, the chef is experimenting with the dough, stuffing and seasonings, prioritising fresh vegetables. “I incorporate squash, bottle gourd, carrot, and chayote to give customers variety. My concept was to give them[customers] something different in taste,” shares Rai, who also serves spinach, and beetroot-infused momo. While most recipes rely on heavy seasonings and cabbage, Rai doesn’t use masala. “Just garlic, ginger, [and] onion,” to give his customers “a clean version of momo.”
Restaurateur Shreeja Kabra, proprietor of Sweet Tooth Cafe, in Biratnagar, agrees, noting the rise of “superfoods” in traditional dishes. “Kodo is definitely a healthier option, even prompted by Prime Minister Narendra Modi,” she emphasises. The decision to serve “healthier offerings like kodo momo” at her cafe was inspired by “new mothers incorporating kodo into their children’s diets. It’s also gluten-free.” Food educator Kafle opines that healthier variations like kodo (finger millet) momo are more prevalent in Nepal “due to the familiarity and integral role of these ingredients in local cuisines. Momo is consumed daily, and people are more open to healthier alternatives,” she explains.
In India’s urban hubs, the classic steamed version remains a staple, with menus pivoting towards localised flavours like tandoori, paneer, cheese, potato, and corn momo. Kafle thinks that in India, momo is often a street food. “There’s more tolerance for traditional preparations,” she says, than for variations, like those found in Nepal. But in India’s hill towns in West Bengal, Sikkim, Meghalaya, Himachal Pradesh, jhol momo and kothey momo are easily found. The penetration of such variations in India’s major cities has been slower, often niche and available only in a handful of places. For instance, Bengaluru’s Bamey’s Resto Café has a selection of jhol, kothey and steamed momo. So does Delhi’s Plus Nine One, an upscale Indian restaurant.
“Food habits come down to culture, and that can be very hard to penetrate,” says chef Rai. “India has a vast culture, and the food is diverse. It is hard to compete with local snacks like vada pao or pakodas.” For example, Rai explains, “Bhujia in India is so common, and we can see a lot of options in the bhujia category. It’s always easier to tweak something that already exists than to create something totally new.” Similarly, momo variations are easily found in Nepal, “As momo is one of the staples in our cuisine,” explains Rai.
Going beyond enjoying dumplings, hands-on experience in momo making is also gaining popularity. In Nepal’s capital city, classes offered by local women trained by Community Homestay Networks offer learners more than a recipe; a lesson in history and heritage to keep customs alive. Today, the Himalayan dumpling has also transcended the plate to become a cultural icon. It lives on through viral memes and creative souvenirs like momo magnets. Yet, no matter how the dish evolves or adapts to modern tastes, the heart of the tradition remains unchanged.
As Kafle aptly puts it, “We keep coming back to the old [classic] style.”
