‘Certainly worth a go’: Momo’s, Lime Street, reviewed

It may not come as much of a surprise but I’d never tried Nepalese food before I visited Momo’s.

I was curious about it as, like anywhere else on earth, the geography of a place and its neighbouring states bleed into the character of a cuisine. 

There’s a reason the French of Strasbourg love sausages and sauerkraut, or why you can’t walk five minutes in Albania without tripping over a gyros. 

So if Nepal lies on the north eastern shoulder of India, on the vertiginous climb to Tibet towards China, does that mean its cuisine sits somewhere in the middle? 

I made the arduous trek from Lime Street station and up the steep steps of Liverpool Brewing Company to Momo’s to see for myself.

It’s a strange sensation walking into a bar, through it and straight upstairs for some other purpose, like you’ve a backroom meeting to get to with some unsavoury types playing poker and eating takeaway sandwiches. 

While Momo’s is almost as inconspicuous, fortunately it’s a much more wholesome affair than that, with every corner you take on the stairs letting you know what to expect; a warm and welcoming Nepalese meal. 

I let an older couple pass on the stairs. “Have you been?” said the husband. “No, I'm here to try it,” I said. 

“We love it.”

It’s a refreshingly low-key affair upstairs, laid out like any understated but well-loved lunch spot; no real pomp and circumstance or unnecessary faff, just a clean and tidy layout and the comforting sound of something sizzling. 

They’ve got a good thing going with the bar downstairs; drink down there with your meal from Momo’s, eat upstairs with a pint from the bar, whichever way you choose. In the interests of getting the full sense of Momo’s I took a spot upstairs.

With all the busy goingson down on Lime Street it’s quite nice to be sat above it, out of the loop but looking on, the gorgeous Edwardian facade of The Vines pub standing stoically over the road.

I took a seat and looked through the menu, a straightforward combination of street food dishes for mains and a few chef’s specials alongside the main event of the momos - Nepalese dumplings filled with minced meat, vegetables and spices - either steamed, or pan fried, or in the case of kothe momo, both. 

As is usually the case when I’m trying something new, I went for the classic: chicken momos (£5), a sort of starter and a good way to get into what Momo’s is about; a main course dish in the chilli sausage with peppers (£6), and then a peanut sadheko salad on the side (£6). 

While the option of a pint from downstairs was there, I had a craving for a chiya tea (£3).

The momos arrived pleasantly arranged with red onions, pomegranate seeds and a warming, chilli-like sauce in the centre. The dumplings were filled with well-seasoned minced chicken, vegetables, ginger, garlic and spices, and were up to the standard you’d expect from a spot that names itself after them. The mince was steamed to the right extent, still keeping the moisture a good fatty mince gives, but not remotely soggy. Six to yourself might be a stretch but I would share these as a starter and be well set up for more from the menu.

Next was the chilli sausage; made with chicken, sauteed with onions and peppers and stir fried with Momo’s homemade chilli sauce, then sprinkled with more of the red onions and pomegranates. The sight of so many chilli seeds had me preparing for a bit of a bout with this dish, but I was mistaken. The spice lay somewhere between the fiery east-Asian notes that sit high in the mix and make your eyes water, and the much more warming slow burn of south Asian spices, tending slightly closer to the latter, but then this was my first time. It’s all new to me.

Meanwhile the salad was something I was expecting - in my ignorance - to be similar to the fish sauce-heavy salads of southeast Asia that I love so much, and which also make a centerpiece of peanuts. This was a bright and fresh-tasting salad of roasted peanuts, cucumber, onions, tomato and coriander and spiced with chilli powder, cumin and lemon juice. The spicing made this something very different to what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a disappointment. My only note would be that it was enormous, but then that’s on me for ordering it. Again, it could be for two if you’re peckish but not ready to gnaw the legs off the table.

It’s places like Momo’s and their trickier locations that mean you can walk past twice a day for two years and only sort of notice it, or even not at all. 

Then one day you pop into Liverpool Brewing Company for a swift one and ask what’s upstairs, they say it's a Nepalese street food restaurant, and that you can eat it down here with your pint if you like? 

“Nepalese street food,” you say back to them. “I’ve never tried that before.”

It’s certainly worth a go. 

Momo’s, 72 Lime Street, L1 1JN