I know people that say "I love Indonesian food". Some go even further and say "I am 1/16 Indonesian". They're not, they are 100% their nationality, but their admiration and addiction to Indonesian flavours knows no boundaries and becomes a part of them.

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My first contact with Indonesian culture happened a few years back, in Holland. Before this, I knew only Bali. While living in Amsterdam, I noticed that many of my fellow Dutch friends crave for these unknown dishes, like nasi goreng or chicken satay, that I've not even heard of, let alone try. I remember that once, during a home dinner, I tried a few dishes, but they didn't say much to me (like Shania Twain says, that don't impress me much), so I sort of put Indonesian cuisine on the back burner for a while.



Moving to Dubai symbolized the beginning of my life as a true foodie and the journey in the world of "unknown" flavours, spices, dishes, the works. I've spend almost two years here feeling like a child on Christmas day every day, discovering and enjoying being surprised (sometimes pleasantly, sometimes unpleasantly, but all the time interesting). So, after months of experiments here and there and everywhere, I turned my attention again to Indonesian cuisine and decided that it's time, I'm now ready.



Unlike my other dining experiences when I had to ask left, right and centre for the most representative venues for a cuisine, I didn't have to go on a hunt for an Indonesian restaurant. Everyone, Indonesians and non-Indonesians alike, acclaimed chefs, famous foodies and restaurants consultants said without hesitation that for true and authentic home cooked Indonesian food there is only one place. That place is Betawi Cafe.

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I embarked on my trip through Karama on an early Monday evening. For some reason, I love wandering through the streets of Karama. I love the lights, the noise, the low old buildings, the busyness of the streets, the people. Compared to new Dubai, it seems alive, inhabited by real people with real lives rather than "Joneses" (The Joneses is a movie showing a perfect family with perfect teeth and a perfect life, selling "the dream").

 

With just a vague idea of where Betawi is located, my friend and I wandered the streets of Karama before bumping into it, more by accident than anything else (my friend would disagree with this, he is a man after all and "knows his maps". But how I know? We found Betawi at 7pm. No one has dinner that early. No matter how hungry you are, you wait until 8-9pm. Out of courtesy for Dubai and because you don't want to be the only guest in the diner). Location identified and confident we will not starve to death that night, we went for another stroll through the busy streets, 











I'll admit. Until 2 weeks ago, for me, the name of "momo" only represented a swanky lounge and bar in downtown Amsterdam, where the fancy and almost famous go to enjoy overpriced cocktails, resting their bottoms on overpriced sofas, discussing golf, cigars and the latest parties. I know close to nothing about cigars and golf, but I do hold my ground in a conversation about events and parties. I liked Momo.



One sunny working day, taking an hour off work, I invited a good friend to a dim sum lunch affair. With both of us keeping an eye on our figures and on a constant run after the ideal weight, dim sum seemed the perfect quick and healthy meal for two. With dishes for sharing, I hoped (deep down inside me) that he will eat more and I will reach my ideal weight faster and rub it in his face. 



For my buddy, dim sum is the equivalent of cigars and golf for me. No clue, no idea. I took his lack of knowledge as a cue for an elaborate explanation about the ins and outs of dim sum, the various fillings, wraps, ingredients, the (hi)story and everything else I knew. He listened and looked at me unfazed, before saying bluntly "I know momo. It's almost the same. It'a an Indian/Nepali dumpling." My love for authentic dim sum insulted, my ego in pieces, I said there is no such thing as Nepalese dumpling. Seriously now. And anyway, even if there is (which I still had my doubts about), it doesn't stand a chance in front of my beloved har gau. 



Lunch came and went and I forgot all about the momos. Until last night. While walking through Karama, trying to find my next dinner destination, I pass a small place, on the corner of a street, brightly lit, with a sticker on the window saying "Yalla Momos". Momo, momo, momo, I know this... Yes! I know this! Eager to try, I snatch my friend's hand and drag him inside, pretty much against his will and his "we're going to have dinner now!" plea. 



Yalla Momos is small. 4 tables, roughly 10 seats. One counter, one fridge, a small window showing the kitchen. A menu board and 2 guys (the owners, I think), all smiles and giggles and excitement. Because I was only in for a snack, I just chose the chicken  momo, steamed, a water and a coffee. 



Momos come in portions of six, served with two choices of sauces - one mild, one spicy. Presented in a very pedestrian way, on paper plates with plastic forks, momos don't give their secret away instantly. Once you bite into it, that's when you feel the magic. Knowing that chicken dim sum can get hard and chewy if steamed too long, I happily worked my way through these six juicy, flavourful and perfectly steamed dumplings, sadly thinking that I have to leave this place and go for dinner.



On the way back home, although totally satisfied with our meal and our full dummies, we shyly decided to make a stop at Yalla Momos and have some dumplings takeaway, for later. Perfect snack for a late night movie on the sofa. This time, we went for steamed cheese and mushrooms dumplings, fried shrimp dumplings and half steamed half fried beef dumplings.



Trying to keep my stomach intact and prevent an explosion, I waited to eat the momos until....I was comfortable laying on my couch, in a pair of elastic waist pants and an over sized t-shirts. Exactly 60 minutes from dinner. Reasonable, right? 



The momos tasted delicious even when reheated in the microwave. The cheese and mushroom was my favourite, by a mile. With a generous mushroom filling, pulled together by melted Cheddar cheese, in a still non-chewy pastry, I could eat this for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Add the mild sauce and you're in for a treat. The beef dumpling was ranked second, in my book. I loved the steamed one, my friend the fried.  Again, juicy, with more of a bite to it than the chicken momo, with more flavour, I liked that the dough was not totally glued to the mixture. Unfortunately, I struggled with the fired ones because they already lost their crispiness. It's normal, nothing to complain about. The shrimp momo was my least favourite. Already growing accustomed with the aroma of these dumplings, the shrimp momo didn't quite deliver to my expectations. The shrimp taste kicked in quite late, leaving me craving for something more "fishy".

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My biggest regret is that I could not eat the dumplings in Yalla Momos and I had them takeaway. The place has a quirky vibe to it, a positive energy, which I thing is coming from its owners. Always smiling and helpful in terms of suggestions, they are like momos: easy to understand, easy to have around, a pleasure to talk to. You can see they are following their passion and they beam every time someone enters the premises or pays a compliment. 



While waiting for your momos, have a look around at the motivational quotes lined up on the walls. Some will make you laugh, some will make you say "yes, I can do it." If jokes are more your thing, there is a funny 6-steps comparison between momos and girlfriends. I hope your girlfriend has a sense of humour, for your sake (if you're a guy).



With a simple menu, well balanced between vegetarian and non-vegetarian dumplings, Yalla Momos is keeping it simple and doing it right. Next time, Yalla Momos will be my dinner destination and not just a snack stop. And I commit to putting my inner carnivore to sleep and try the vegetarian dumplings as well.  



 

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