For the Love of Momos I write

If food was a drug, I would have been addicted to momos. The simple act of dipping one momo into the spicy tangy or simply hot chilli flake sauce and nibbling it runs shivers of ecstasy through my taste buds. I remember one evening when I went to Dilli Haat and stopped by Arunachal stall to have momos.

Dilli Haat is my favourite place in Delhi amongst many others given that it is so vibrant and rich in its culture, essence and creativity. I had on that occasion taken my parents who were on a visit to the food joint because they were literally quite curious about my new found love. They have never had tasted momos earlier and I had the privilege of introducing this ecstasy to their taste buds.

The evening air was cold. It was a December evening. The steam from the hot momos kissed the cold air leaving an aroma of well steamed momos that waited to be bitten into.  The smoky steam tantalised my taste buds because I knew it held in it the promise of the momos being juicy inside. The hot chilli sauce placed next to the plates of momos assured a gastronomic experience unrivaled by any combination.

I took a bite and the rest is of course history. Some experiences can never be experienced in words, it can only be relished. To the core.

If food had been a drug I would have been addicted to momos. This is a love note of an head over heels kind of addicted momo lover to the experience called momos; and no matter how deep the yearning, I don’t want this food love story to ever lose its flavour. This is what true love is all about.

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