How Monk and his MoMo: Changed The World. Forever.


Momo:s, those Nepalese dumplings that essentially helps people to go through periods of total physical abstinence, has been talked and discussed and touched several times over on this blog. So much so that it's starting to get increasingly annoying for readers to read about dumplings and then not be able to wet their palate with a nicely steamed plate of awesome momos right after. What I can, however, do now is narrate a tale of the origins, so to speak, of undoubtedly one of the most desirable, curvy and sexy food in the history of mankind and hope that you will lust for the tato-tato dallo-dallo beauties even more.

As I was told by my pop, there long lived a monk. He was just a ordinary monk who woke up early, did his prayers, some Kung-Fu, some hit-me-on-the-balls training, ran temple errands and ate the food that was served. He was fairly content with his life, with no girls around him to bother him and nag him, he lived a peaceful life. However, time and again, he found that his inner peace that he has been so keen on balancing was irking on the side of complete imbalance.

How can this be? he thought looking at the majestic view of mountains and plains and skies all making sweet, sweet love to each other. How can I be so imbalanced with all that balls-hitting-no-OUCH-saying training I have been enduring?

To seek answers, our monk decided to meditate deep inside the jungle where lions and giraffes...ok no giraffes, and tigers and penguins roamed free. With all those animals in plain sight, he attained nirvana and quickly came back to his temple to implement his deceivingly ingenious plan to ruin his palate for the rest of his life...for good.

Slipping inside the main gate and inside the main grand meditation halls where men were all calling out "Budhha Buddha!" in the most gayest possible way, he ninja-ed his way into the kitchen. All now he had to do was to cook the meat he had just brought for himself. He had read somewhere that meat takes time to cook and  he also knew, looking at his rolex, that lunch time was around the corner. The cooks would be here in any moment!

In this great time of great fake drama, he decided to meditate for a second and let the divine self take control of his ideas. When he finally opened his eyes, he had devised a strikingly imaginative and super smart way of cooking and eating the meat that lay happy in front of him.  He began mincing the meat, placing BMC's MoMo: masala which appeared with his divine power of turning his own hair into a mixture of dried, grounded spices and then preparing some dough.

As he finally wrapped the dough around the meat, he couldn't help but let out a bit of spit that  was hanging from the very ends of his mouth. As he was cooking, the monk cooks arrived but suspected nothing. He ate those dumplings in front of everyone like a kid tasting ice cream for the very first time. No one said anything. Nobody suspected that he had been eating tiger dumplings.

The monk himself was oblivious that he had just given birth to a seemingly powerful timeline for the world; a reference point through which mankind would be, time and again, reminded of his deed to humankind...the birth of BM (Before MoMo:) and AM(After MoMo:).

All this crap because just eating MoMo: isn't enough.  

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