How momos became India's comfort food

A popular evening snack and sometimes a meal on its own, across India, you will find patrons huddling around a small makeshift stall with towers of aluminium steamers. Lift the lid and piping hot momos, the Indian version of dumplings, make themselves known through the trails of steam and the whiffs of cooked meat and vegetables. More than just winter food, momos are a quintessential part of the street food culture in India.

But how did this dumpling arrive in India?

Momos have transcended borders, tracing their Indian origins from Tibet and Nepal. Image: Instagram/@amitava.picsandpixels/Amitava Adhikary

The story of how these dumplings found their way into India's street food lexicon is, like many tales of beloved food, part history and part hearsay. Records show that the Nepalese kitchens have been churning out baozi-shaped momos since the 14th century, which is around the same time Tibetans started making their signature crescent-shaped momos. The word 'momo' itself speaks of Tibetan origins but perhaps the overall movement of these dumplings can be attributed to the Newari community of Nepal. Having traded with Tibet for centuries, they have served as a cultural bridge, allowing the humble dumpling to traverse borders.

But it wasn't until 1959 that momos truly began their Indian odyssey. When the Dalai Lama and approximately 80,000 Tibetans sought refuge in India following China's takeover of Tibet, they brought with them their cherished momo recipes. Today, Tibetan settlements are scattered across many Indian states, and like a stone dropped in still water, their influence has rippled outward, spreading the love for momos throughout the subcontinent.

In the late 1950s, momos surged in popularity in India, as Tibetans came to the country. Image: Instagram/@amitava.picsandpixels/Amitava Adhikary

“I've been obsessed with momos for as long as I can remember, so much so that my dietician had to include them in my meal plan!" says Saral Gogia. “For me, it's never just about the filling; it's about dunking them into that fiery red chutney that sets my mouth on fire – a risk I'd take any day of the week!"

If you had to attribute one word to the process of eating a momo it would be ‘ceremonial’. Unlike their East Asian cousins with their gossamer-thin wrappers, momos have an opaque exterior which results in a chewy texture. While the variations are dime a dozen, the typical fillings include a simple mix of minced meat, shredded cabbage, carrots, garlic and onion with a handful of seasoning. On first bite, the viscousness of the all-purpose flour casing makes itself known, the ‘momo juice’ splatters out and coats the mouth resulting in a whole rounded experience. Saral is not alone in her love for the fiery red chutney, usually made of tomato, red chilli and garlic. Rarely do you see a plate of momos unaccompanied by this spicy sidekick that balances out the subtle flavour of the momos.

India has adapted momos throughout the country, making them with different fillings and techniques. Image: Supplied/Rahul Yadav

In the Tibetan settlements scattered across India like seeds in the wind, from Dharamshala's misty valleys to Bylakuppe's southern warmth, the original versions still hold court. Here, yak meat and pork remain favoured fillings, sturdy fare for mountain weather. But India, with its genius for adaptation, has spawned countless variations. In the churpi momo, hard cheese made from yak and cow milk melts slowly, releasing its complex flavours. The kothey momo which is akin to potstickers creates a contrasting experience with its crispy base and steamed top. Then there’s the jhol momo - a comforting bowl of spicy tomato-based soup with soft steamed dumplings swimming in it. A speciality of Kathmandu, jhol momo is a warm hug in a bowl.

The tingmo, bearing a striking resemblance to Chinese flower rolls, starts its life as a simple steamed bun traditionally served alongside gravy dishes. But filled with minced pork or other meats, it becomes something entirely its own and mutates itself into ting momo. For those with a sweet tooth, Nepal offers the yomari – a sweet interpretation of the dumpling made with rice flour and filled with chaku, a decadent mixture of jaggery, ghee, and nuts or khoya. Shaped like a conch shell and deeply entwined with the Newar community's harvest celebrations, it proves that even festival food can't escape the draw of wrapped delights.

Momos make for great study food. Image: Instagram/@amitava.picsandpixels/Amitava Adhikary

For Ritu, these dumplings are woven into memories of student life. "That momo stall fifty meters from my house was my survival strategy," she recalls. "Three pieces – half a plate – would keep me going. It is one of my oldest and fondest memories of living on minimal pocket income.” There's something democratic about momo stalls. With their simple setup with nothing but a few plastic stools for seating and your hand propped as a base for the plate – they attract everyone from schoolkids pooling pocket money to office workers seeking quick comfort.

Srishti credits these dumplings with getting her through her board exams. "Delhi did to momos what it does to everything – we made it our own," she says. "I'd study all day, knowing my evening momo run with my friend was waiting. It sounds silly, but those momos got me through the twelfth standard exams."

Image: Instagram/@amitava.picsandpixels/Amitava Adhikary

Just a mere four years ago, a company called Wow! Momo took this love of momos and decided to enter the FMCG segment with its frozen momos. When they decided to throw their hat in the ring, it was just another feather in the cap for these dumplings that have come a long way from their Himalayan roots. What began as a humble kiosk in Kolkata has spawned a whole ecosystem of momo-preneurs: Prasuma bringing their chicken momos to supermarket shelves, Blue Tribe offering plant-based alternatives and countless local brands vying for a piece of the pie. Yet the soul of the momo still lives on the street, in those towers of steamers, in the vendors who can pleat dough with their eyes closed, and in the small crowds that gather every evening, waiting for their share of wrapped happiness.

These little parcels of joy have well and truly found their place in the sun in Indian cuisine, and if that's not a recipe for success, I don't know what is.

Banner image: Different varieties of momos by Shiv Singh

Asia Media Centre