Nepali Snack Attack

As I think I may have mentioned in the previous posts, the Nepali people love their food, and they love to snack. However, a snack in Nepal is not just a handful of Oreos or a bag of Cheeze-Its, it's practically a meal. The photo above depicts a typically snack stand near the Manakamana Temple. In the foreground are veggie pakoras--sort of a veggie tempura, in the middle are samosas, and in the back is a plate of fried jalebi--fried ribbons of dough soaked in sugar syrup, and behind that, a simmering bowl of potato curry. Since nothing whets your appetite like watching some goats get offered to the Goddess, we decided to grab a bite.

When street snacking in Nepal (or any country, really) an important rule of thumb is to eat what's just been cooked, or is being cooked in front of you. In this case, the snack stand had a large crowd, which meant a quick turnover, which in turn meant food wasn't sitting out waiting.

KLB and I indulged in samosas (pyramid shaped pastries that are stuffed with potatos and veggies, then fried), a couple jalabi, and the potato curry:

The samosas were filled with a richly seasoned, slightly spicy potato mixture, and the potato curry with fried soy beans was creamy, but with a serious spicy kick. The best part, however, was the jalebi--it's basically a funnel cake but more delicate, and about one hundred times sweeter. Frequently, they're yellow/orange in color, as saffron is used to color the sugar syrup in which they're soaked.

We went about two or three blocks before we came upon a vendor selling rings of another fried dough:

These are called sel roti, and because I was on vacation, a second round of dessert seemed acceptable. Sel roti is made from a thin-ish batter of rice flour, mashed bananas, sugar, and water. It's poured into a pot of hot oil that has a can or ring in the middle, to keep the batter in a circular form.

The dough puffs as it cooks, is flipped and cooked on the other side and in about 20 seconds you have a slightly sweet doughnut with just a hint of banana flavor. Paired with a Coke made with real sugar, and you have a grade A snack.

Another popular Nepali treat is chaat, and it is sold by roadside street vendors or small snack stands:

Chaat is a choose-your-own-adventure snack, with a base of fried, puffed, balls of dough (puri), that is then topped with seasonings of your choice: yogurt, chopped onions, radishes, chickpeas, corriander, chilies, and other assorted spices. Sometimes its served on a plate, other times, it's served in a paper cone, or on banana leaves.

Finally, the other tried-and-true snack of Nepal is the momo:

These are essentially dumplings, which, while simple, somehow manage to be the source of constant debate as to whose aunt/grandmother/sister or which restaurant makes the best. They can be filled with veggies (cabbage, carrots, onions), minced chicken, or--the most delicious--buffalo. They are served with assorted sauces called achars that can be made in a variety of spice levels.

KLB hosted a momo party one night, and her cooks and housekeeper made hundreds of veg and buff momos, cooking them in a giant steamer.

The best part, I discovered, about momo night is the next morning. For breakfast the day after a steamed-momo feast, any leftover momos are fried up for a filling start to the day.

If there's anything I learned in Nepal, is that food is a vital part of the culture, and an essential part of hospitality. A visit to a Nepali house will mean glasses of chai or fresh lemon soda (tiny, local lemons sliced into sparkling water) and something to eat. While there may not be running water or electricity for half the day, and the government may still be in gridlock, there will always be jalabies and momos.