Momos for Karuna

By Karen Coates

I subscribe to A.Word.A.Day. Do you? There must be karmic or cosmic influence in each day’s selection because yesterday’s word — at the end of a volatile week, at the start of Easter weekend — was karuna. Karuna, an ancient Pali and Sanskrit word, a hallmark of Jainism, Buddhism and Tibetan culture. (Curiously, Karuna is also the name of a breakaway Tamil Tiger commander in Sri Lanka.) Most commonly, karuna means love and compassion; its definition encompasses the concept of enlightened wisdom, the wish for human suffering to end.

It got me thinking about momos, in particular these momos, which were made in Darjeeling’s Hot Stimulating Cafe, which sits like a little hippie house carved into the hillside. Walk straight through to the deck out back, and you get a prime view of the Himalayan foothills. Or you can sit inside and watch the making of momos, a favorite snack or meal in Tibet, Nepal and northern India.

These little dough-ball dumplings are stuffed with meat, fish or simply vegetables. Here at the Hot Stimulating Cafe, chopped ginger and onion are most important to the filling; then cabbage, carrot and soybean oil.

Meat momos must, must, must have more ginger and onion than meat, I am told.

And the contents of each momo determines its shape.

Clockwise, starting from the top, we have a fish momo, a meat momo and a veg momo, each pinched into a neat little pocket to be steamed or, alternatively, fried — a supremely yummy way to eat your momos.

Of course, who wouldn’t eat her momos with a cup of masala tea? Hot Stimulating tea ranked among the best in Darjeeling masalas — each cup with “less than a pinch” of ground cardamom, cinnamon, clove and black pepper.

As for momos, there is a mystery within. You know my problem with wheat, so Jerry did most of the momo indulging in Darjeeling. But at times I couldn’t resist. We found them steaming hot, or sizzling in oil, at many little Tibetan restaurants scattered across town. Perhaps it was the vibrant dipping sauce that won me over. Perhaps it was the intense warmth on such frigid, wintery days. I don’t know. But momos certainly seem to hold a secret ingredient.