The week, week before and Da's MoMo:(s)

If you haven't checked out the blog intro click here.

Brief intro to MoMo:

“If you want to sleep, do so where I can’t see you” 

Quote of the day. (SolidMecha Prof) referring to my Korean classmate who was dozing in the fore bench.How nice of him.

I have to say the week before and the current one has been monumental. There was this big “thing” about getting another issue of Quill (our mag) out, moving into newer dorm (details down) and sorting out my classes for good. The new semester has finally begun, bringing in new hope, new life and new students (rumors are that there’s a novice undergraduate Nepali student. That would be nice). Thankfully, there are now more people than animals in and around the university.

Moving was a big pain in the ass, however, with people around you ready to help, it wasn’t that bad. And as some of them had professional gym training, my “move out” boxes were as light as my belly. Unpacking was disappointingly lonesome though. Everyone had to do their own.

Writing this blog in a new place, in a different ambience is clearly not helping my writing. My cozy bed keeps staring at me and I stare it back and so forth. I spend most of the time on top of it so the poor table stares back in pure disgust.  Many of those who had the opportunity to drink Mongolian vodka over can duly agree with me. I still have some if you want. (Danny, saved some for you. We can do that over your Hindi assignments)

I am not complaining, but most of you would find getting up most difficult. Let me correct. All of us find it difficult. But what’s more frustrating is when you finally have the balls to get on your feet early in the morning and find the restroom occupied. YES. We have only one here. Six people have the luxury of having a bite off that tasty shiny square tiles. The balcony is GREAT though. You can just shout and nobody gives a shit.

Having had said all this, I will try to steer it back to where it matters. But this time it is going to be slightly personal.

I have had a lot of MoMos to eat. Whether they were from over the wall, under it, from the weirdest looking bhattis, the most rural of places to the most celebrated once, all were deemed worthless after that one moment of pure bliss. That very moment when I took a bite off Da’s MoMo:

Let me give you an introduction of Da. He loves eating. Moreover, he loves cooking (for others). He was the one who taught me to “eat”. He was the one who scared the shit out of me. He was the one who made us(throw my poor sis in the mix) massage his hands, back and toe while he gently fell asleep. He was the one I had the most arguments with. He is the one who never stops making fun of me (he takes intense pleasure in doing so. His kale face says it all).He is also the one who apparently says he makes the best momos that human kind has ever tasted. Obviously, I want to disagree……..but I can’t.

Over the years, he has been able to experiment, taste and refine the perfect meat to fat ratio (which I haven’t discussed here due to possible copyright issues), find the perfect Achar (or Sauce), make the right dough (he has a very interesting dough making technique which I never thought was possible), drive it through an inch perfect “bellne” machine (the one which we use to make pastas), construct the perfect shape MoMo: so that the fat juices get retained and even the perfect temperature and timing. You have got to give it to him. Whats more? with all this effort, comes a time where the way you eat is just as important. Hot, steaming, you dip it wholly into the sauce(gives the outer flavor), take a long breath (sprinkle some cool air if you like) and eat it whole. That moment just kills you right there. Its like fireworks demonstration over the Harbor Bridge only that its happening inside your mouth. And with chiso beer to cool it all down, things CANNOT get better than that. Sorry, if I got a little emotional there.

Having said all this, I will probably never say this right before him, even if I end up getting drunk (done weird things). But dear old MoMo: God, you have surely sent an angel down.