How could it have taken me so long to get back to Monty’s of Kathmandu? Ask anybody in Dublin and they’ll say they love it. The city’s first Nepalese restaurant, opened in 1997 by Shiva and Lina Gautam, a fixture that everyone claims as part of their dining history. Then you ask when they last went and they hesitate. It’s been years. I was one of them, until now.
The room is exactly as I remembered: deep red walls, heavy carved pillars, chandeliers scattering patterned light across the ceiling. It feels lived-in rather than styled, with white-clothed tables packed close, set with wine glasses, which is no surprise, as Monty’s is home to one of the top wine lists in the country.
The starting point is obvious: the momo (€19.50). Once, these steamed Nepalese dumplings had to be ordered 24 hours in advance. Now there’s a chef in the kitchen who can make them blindfolded. You choose chicken, goat, corn or vegetable, but because it’s a quiet night we’re offered half and half – six of each. The waiter says chicken is his favourite, but the goat is seasonal – only three months of the year – so I’m keen to try both.
The chicken momo is light, finely minced and savoury. The wrapper is hand-folded, neatly pleated, steam rising, silky and nearly translucent. The tomato and coriander chutney sits alongside. The goat is darker, deeper, gamier, the flavour balanced by the chutney’s barbecued tomato sharpness and smoke. They are truly delicious – the anchor of the meal. To eat them is to remember why Monty’s is still here after almost three decades.
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Beyond the dumplings, the menu runs deep – Nepali soup with mixed beans and pulses, aubergine pâté, barbecued baby squid tentacles with chilli, tandoori grills, long-simmered curries, and jyogi bhat – Nepal’s answer to biryani. We skip the goat curry for the Mungling dhal bhat (€30.95 per person, minimum two) to get a broader taste of the menu.
Two brass thalis are set down, heavy and polished, filled with small bowls arranged around a central mound of rice. It takes its name from Mungling, the town halfway between Kathmandu and Pokhara where travellers stop to eat and revive. There is rice, loose and steaming, with jhanko dhal beside it, soft and earthy. Lamb ledo bedo, a tomato and onion curry, has generous chunks of meat – warming and nourishing. Chicken sekuwa, barbecued and spiced, is sharp with smoke. Mis-mas vegetable tarkari is cooked until tender; tareko sabji, deep-fried vegetables scattered with cashew and jwano seed, are crisp and nutty. A roti folded against the rim is ready to tear.
The dhal bhat is not a line of courses. It’s less about the individual elements than the act of eating across them – spooning rice into dhal, tearing roti into curry, pairing vegetable with chicken, chutney with lamb. Each bite changes slightly with what you choose to combine. In Nepal the spice is more aggressive, hotter, sharper. Here it’s moderated, but the rhythm holds – bowl to bowl, until the food is gone.
A bottle of Alexandre Burgaud Beaujolais Villages (€45) carries the meal – a light-bodied Gamay, fresh and sharp with a fruity lift that keeps pace with the spice. Monty’s wine list is decorated with awards, with a sizeable number of options available by the glass. It’s unapologetically French – Champagne, Bordeaux, Burgundy, Beaujolais – with grower names beside grandes marques. Prices climb without restraint from the €40s to several thousand for rare Burgundies, vintage Krug, and Jacques Selosse Champagne.
To finish, gulab jamun – a dough ball fried golden brown, soaked in rose water, cardamom and saffron syrup – is sweet and perfumed, closing the meal as it began: simple and sure-handed.
Monty’s has been here almost 30 years. The city has filled with new names, closed them, filled again. Through all of it, Monty’s has carried on – carefully folding dumplings, refining spice, pouring wine. It’s as fresh now as it was in 1997. And leaving, I wonder again why it took me so long to return.
Because this is the point: while the city runs after whatever is new, Monty’s stays – cooking the same food with the same clarity, nurturing the same room of happy diners. If we don’t go back, if we let the years slide, then places like this vanish. And all we’ll have left are the memories of momo steam and brass thalis to remind us of what we lost.
Dinner for two with a bottle of wine was €126.40.
The verdict: Quietly brilliant with momo made to order.
Food provenance: Doyle Meats, Old Court Hill Farm, Boylan Frozen Foods.
Vegetarian options: Lina’s sag chat, tareko sabji (deep fried vegetables) and vegetable jyogi bhat.
Wheelchair access: Accessible room with no accessible toilet.
Music: Nepalese.
