Ladakh: Such Great Heights

Countdown to Mmmmomo: 3...(Tibetan Kitchen)

Best Of IgoUgo

Restaurant

Quote:

Since spreading into Ladakh from Tibet back in the very olden days, the momo (or mok mok in Ladakhi, but it’s more commonly referred to by its Tibetan name, momo) has evolved into an icon of Ladakhi cuisine. As such, it’s a dish that must be sampled when you’re there. In fact, momo ubiquity renders a sampling nearly inevitable. The traditional momo stuffing in Ladakh is either vegetables or mutton, but restaurants catering to tourists branch out from the standard, adding such ingredients as yak cheese to the mix. Regardless of what’s inside, your plate of momos will be accompanied by a bowl of broth, and is best topped off with a discretionary dollop of chili powder/paste. My significant (and ...Read More

Since spreading into Ladakh from Tibet back in the very olden days, the momo (or mok mok in Ladakhi, but it’s more commonly referred to by its Tibetan name, momo) has evolved into an icon of Ladakhi cuisine. As such, it’s a dish that must be sampled when you’re there. In fact, momo ubiquity renders a sampling nearly inevitable. The traditional momo stuffing in Ladakh is either vegetables or mutton, but restaurants catering to tourists branch out from the standard, adding such ingredients as yak cheese to the mix. Regardless of what’s inside, your plate of momos will be accompanied by a bowl of broth, and is best topped off with a discretionary dollop of chili powder/paste.

My significant (and perhaps unhealthy) predilection for momos drove me on a mission to find Ladakh's best momos during my two and a half month sojourn there. It should be said that there were no bad momos. Just ones that contained a higher proportion of cabbage than I deemed necessary or desirable. Clearly a scientific analysis. So if you’re anti-cabbage, are obsessed with momos and plan to visit Ladakh before the current restaurants’ chefs move on, you might find this review particularly useful. If you’re just a recreational momo fan with Ladakh in your eventual travel plans, well, hopefully you’ll still benefit from it.

3. Tibetan Kitchen: Everyone has their own vision of the dream momo. But the one place that seemed to garner positive momo reviews across the board is Tibetan Kitchen. Yak cheese and vegetable momos are not uncommon on Leh menus, but the ones here are best of all. It only seems appropriate since this establishment is generally considered the finest in Leh. Prices match the reputation (cheese and vegetable momos were maybe Rs50?) and the decor is elegant enough to exude ambience (fancy charm versus the homegrown charm of the typical Leh restaurant). The biggest obstacle standing between you and a stellar plate of vegetable and yak cheese momos is the popularity of the place. Although it is possible to squeeze in on a random night (I managed to twice with 4-6 people), the chances of them turning you away because they’re solidly booked out are much higher. Unlike most other places, reservations are not only accepted here, but are necessary if you’re intent on seeing what all the fuss is about. Read Less

Member Rating 4 out of 5 on April 11, 2007

Cheer!
Flag

Summer Harvest Restaurant

Restaurant | "Countdown to Mmmmomo: 2... (Summer Harvest)"

Quote:

2. This is another higher end restaurant (for Ladakh, that is; momos here start at around Rs40), which doesn’t make much of a case for the more modest, small-scale eateries. I was therefore reluctant to crown such a slick restaurant the premiere home of vegetable momos in Ladakh, but for a long time, that’s where it stood. What makes them so good? For starters, they use premium vegetables, as opposed to all cabbage all the time. And while some restaurants merely infuse their dough with a sprinkling of vegetables or meat, Summer Harvest serves up a plate of ten plump bundles that will sufficiently last you through the night. Of course, the flavor is also just right, but I couldn’t tell you what spices ...Read More

Member Rating 4 out of 5 on April 11, 2007

Summer Harvest Restaurant
Fort Road
Ladakh, India

Cheer!
Flag

Countdown to Mmmmomo: 1... (Stall in Phanjila)

Restaurant

Quote:

1. (Location is the last stall on the right in Phanjila, in the direction of Hanupatta.) If you make it out to Zanskar for the Lamayuru to Padum or Darcha trek, before you zip through Phanjila to head into the gorges, stop by this stall for the momos that dethroned Summer Harvest. These champion momos burst with leafy greens and the occasional tomato piece, and, as if that weren’t enough, the shell is whole wheat (there was none of that in Leh). All this for Rs20. I even ordered an extra batch to take with me on my trek, polishing most of them off for dinner that night, much to my dismay (it was canned cheese and crackers from then on). Later on, I did end up passing through Phanjila again and looked ...Read More

Member Rating 4 out of 5 on April 11, 2007

Cheer!
Flag

Countdown to Mmmmomo: Honorable Mentions

Restaurant

Quote:

An honorable mention goes to Norlakh (upstairs on Main Bazaar Road opposite the State Bank of India ATM), where you might even spot a local. I think they make five different fillings. A second honorable mention goes to a barely there Tibetan restaurant, so barely there that I don’t even know its name, on Fort Road across from Tibetan Kitchen, two or three shops downhill from Penguin. This place is run by a husband and wife team, each of whom has an individual momo style. One was more aligned to my tastes, although I never worked out whose was which. Every time I went, I hoped that I’d get the preferred momo prep cook, but I usually got the other one. In my experience, the momos at thes...Read More

Member Rating 3 out of 5 on April 11, 2007

Cheer!
Flag

Get Carried Away (And How!)

Best Of IgoUgo

Story/Tip

Baralacha La Lake Photo - Himachal Pradesh, India

Quote:

With nearly 40,000 miles of track, Indian Railways pulls off a messy game of connect-the-population dots across most of the subcontinent. Most of it…just not Ladakh. Rail travel to this region is precluded by the terrain, which toughens up as it ascends from the greener pastures of the plains through toothy mountains to Leh at 3505m/11,500ft. Getting to Ladakh instead involves a ride with one of India’s transportation industry underdogs: plane, jeep, bus or your very own feet. Regardless of which you choose, you’ll be twisted through a seemingly impossible landscape rife with the loftiest peaks and deepest valleys. While this journey is almost as good as the destination, digging for information isn’t,...Read More

With nearly 40,000 miles of track, Indian Railways pulls off a messy game of connect-the-population dots across most of the subcontinent. Most of it…just not Ladakh. Rail travel to this region is precluded by the terrain, which toughens up as it ascends from the greener pastures of the plains through toothy mountains to Leh at 3505m/11,500ft. Getting to Ladakh instead involves a ride with one of India’s transportation industry underdogs: plane, jeep, bus or your very own feet. Regardless of which you choose, you’ll be twisted through a seemingly impossible landscape rife with the loftiest peaks and deepest valleys. While this journey is almost as good as the destination, digging for information isn’t, so here are some tidbits I learned from my two (inadvertently two) round trips to Ladakh last summer:

Plane: both Jet Airways (private) and Indian Airlines (state) fly between Delhi and Leh for $175 ($132 for those under 30 on Jet). While Jet has thirteen flights a week to Delhi, versus Indian’s three, Indian also connects Leh with Srinagar and Jammu. However, if you’re a stickler about planes looking as if they belong to the current era of aviation, you might prefer Jet. Indian is less prone to immediate cancellation when foul weather lurks, though, since it’s a government operation. Compared to the ground options, the hour-long flight may seem extravagant for budgeteers, but, aside from the obvious time savings, the crowning benefit is that it doubles as a flight seeing tour. Flying into/out of the narrow Leh Valley is surreal and coasting just above a maze of glaciers and peaks in the thick of the mightiest mountain range on the planet is tough to upstage (so stay awake). Don’t think that you’ll be strolling onto the plane with your plum pick of window seats, though. During high season, which happens to encompass nearly the entire tourist season of June—mid-late September, flights are fully booked weeks in advance (or more), with a well-padded waiting list to boot. Take care not to break any mirrors before attempting date changes.

Jeep: all road journeys to Leh officially begin in Manali, or, to a lesser extent, Srinagar. It’s only 475km between Leh and Manali, but with temperamental roads etched into hulking mountainsides, the ride is 18-22 hours in a jeep, direct. And they do go direct (Rs1000/$22)—departing at 2am and rolling straight into Leh that night. With the same driver. If you have a day and 250 rupees ($5) to spare, there are also two-day jeeps that allow photo stops, in addition to the less celebrated stops that might be associated with rapid altitude gain. Note that in either case, up to ten passengers will be squeezed into a basic SUV for twenty hours of getting to know your neighbor(s) very, very well: two in the front on the other side of the gear shift, four in the middle and four sets of knees interlocking on two facing benches in the bouncy back. In a burst of socialism, sometimes passengers rotate seats along the way. Southbound jeeps are less grim and only take on seven passengers, with two in the front, three in the middle and two in the back. In contrast to their northbound counterparts, southbound jeeps price according to the seat, with the back ones going for Rs1000/$22 and everything else for Rs1400/$30. In short, the jeep experience is a gamble, especially heading north. It can either be passably comfortable or a catalyst for insanity, but you won’t know which until your jeep clears Vashist (the last pick-up point) with the final passenger tally solidified inside. For those with an aversion to cuddling strangers, leather-seated, climate controlled deluxe jeeps also ply the Manali-Leh Highway, with a capacity limit of a mere five passengers. Although, at about Rs2500 (including accommodation and most meals—why not all meals, I don’t know), such splendor isn’t for everyone.

Bus: when super high season hits in Ladakh, the buses emerge from hibernation. The specific date varies depending on the year’s snowmelt situation, but everything’s generally chugging along by mid-July. The bargain basement way into Ladakh is via the state-run ordinary bus (that’s the official name), which runs twice a week. This glamorous roadster, courtesy of Himachal Pradesh, is the cousin of a neglected school bus. Your Rs500/$11 seat, or, rather, bench position, is assigned, so capacity is restricted, but the seats fall a half person short of comfortable. Particularly if it’s your half-butt hanging off the end. Here’s a tip: The primo seat is behind the driver as the shocks are most functional here (towards the back are popcorn seats, as in, you’ll feel like popping corn) and you can stretch your legs out through a hole in the divider behind the driver’s seat. If you’re on the end, you can put your foot up on the motor cover (or whatever’s under there—I’m autopart ignorant) for leverage. In general, if you’re over 6' or so, make sure you get an aisle seat, unless you enjoy ramming your knees into the metal back of the seat in front of you, over and over. Seating issues aside, the ordinary bus is the most culturally interesting transport option since tourists don’t dominate this one, for a change. The total trip time is about 30 hours, including an overnight stop in Keylong, give or take a breakdown and assorted road delays. On the other end of the bus spectrum, there’s the deluxe bus. A one butt per clearly defined seat, modern bus for Rs1000/$22. The overnight is at a tent camp near Sarchu (Rs200/$4 extra for dinner and accommodation, but free tent space if you have a tent). The one negative of this bus is that it doesn’t stop for photos (there are 25 of you, after all), but if you’re sitting on the aisle, you’ll only have one person to clamber over to get a photo out the window as opposed to two (potentially unappreciative) ones on the ordinary bus.

Foot: several trekking routes connect Ladakh with Himachal Pradesh or Kashmir. The most accessible, and therefore most popular, takes you from Darcha (near Keylong) to Lamayuru, or vice versa, in roughly 22 days. If you’re heading towards Ladakh, the gradual ascent of the first half of the trek should yield a smoother acclimatization experience than what the other modes might dish out. It’s possible to do this trek on your own, but bring Charlie Loram’s “Trekking in Ladakh” for route guidance. Pack in most of your food, but supplies can be bumped up in Padum. Past Padum in particular, there are sporadic opportunities to purchase simple hot meals (generally rice and dal, or ramen noodles) and snacks in tea tents. Alternatively, this expedition, like all in Ladakh, may be undertaken as a fully-inclusive guided trek for $35-40 a day. Or you could compromise by hiring packhorses or donkeys (with the owner therefore doubling as a route guide) to haul your gear up and down all those nasty passes.

Summary: if you’re tired from sifting through all the above information, here’s a basic rundown: For photo-friendly landscape immersion, trek or take the two-day jeep. For cultural immersion, take the ordinary bus. For comfort, fly. For a great escape, trek (although you might have company on some routes). For saving rupees, take the ordinary bus. For saving time, fly. For maximizing time while minimizing rupee expenditure, take the direct jeep. For maximizing comfort while minimizing rupee expenditure, take the deluxe bus. For best results, mix and match. For my recommendation, I say fly one way and take the 2-day jeep or trek the other. For avoiding any further redundancy, I’ll stop writing now. Read Less

Cheer!
Flag

IgoUgo

Ladakh Journals

Upload Photos