A secret in Woolwich's arsenal

Woolwich is a neighbourhood under siege. Identikit pubs with vaguely militaristic names are advancing on the cut-price shoe shops. Wimpy is being held ransom by Boulangerie Jade, and M&S snipers are taking pot shots at the Polish grocers.

Mercifully some Woolwich bastions remain, railing against the encroaching ‘affordable’ developments and Bugaboo brigades. Just South of the main square, in the looming shadow of the Carbuncle cup-winning Tesco development, lies a technicoloured strip of restaurants whose exteriors universally bely their outstanding fare.

Between the ubiquitous vape shop, a salon, and a bookies, lies arguably my favourite restaurant in London: Kailash Momo. You’d be forgiven for walking swiftly past it, despite its 'eye-catching' green facade. Pictures of food in a restaurant window almost always ring alarm bells, and these are no different. Please pay no heed to the foot high lamb curry depicted on your right, and enter the magical world of Momos.

And magical it is. The faded 90’s textbook jazziness of the exterior quite literally pales in comparison to the baroque interior of the restaurant. Every inch of the walls and ceiling is covered in shimmering gold wallpaper and bejewelled cornicing. The banquette seating is carpeted in thick Persian pile, and jaunty pictures of Sherpas smile out from above the tables. In a world where restaurants seem keen to do away with all decoration besides wonky neon lighting and artfully exposed brick, Momos is a gaudy revelation.

This family-run restaurant is clearly not a secret to Woolwichians, and is invariably bustling. The clientele could have been chosen by an HR manager trying to put together the front cover for an inclusivity brochure: there are amorous teenagers on dates, knackered parents placating children, groups of garrulous middle-aged men, patrician elderly couples and solitary diners gorging on dumplings. It is a very happy chaos.

You are shown to your table and sat down with the menu, a pad of paper and a pen. With the exception of the very young waiters, the staff don’t speak huge amounts of English so have come up with the ingenious system of getting customers to write down the numbers of their dishes and hand them in. It is foolproof, and something that I would happily see rolled out to every restaurant on Earth. Imagine a world where the waiter didn’t squat at your table and ask earnestly if you’d like to know about today’s specials? A world where you have written proof that you definitely asked for the mayo on the side? A world where you don’t have to endure the ignominy of asking the sommelier for what is clearly the second cheapest wine on the list?

But I digress.

Almost every dish on the peeling laminated menu is accompanied by a photograph, which, though unfashionable, proves useful. There are Nepalese classics such as steamed Momos and curried mutton stews, but some lesser-known options such as Laphing (a cold but spicy jellied noodle dish) and Sukuti (sun-dried meat strips) are also worth a try. All portions are roughly the same size, so a mixture of starters, side dishes and main courses is the way to go. The dish I keep coming back for is the marvellously named ‘Crazy Pork.’ If only more dishes were named like lads from Hartlepool on a stag do to Zagreb.

It pays to be adventurous with the menu - the staff are very open about things that newcomers may or may not like, and have offered on several occasions to let me try a bit of something before committing to a whole portion. Similarly, they will - via the pad of paper - let you know if you’ve ordered way too much and need to stop being such a crazy porker. The drinks are wonderfully simple too. A few beers (served in the bottle), teas (served in china cups), and wine labelled as ‘house’ or ‘other’ are all you can get. None of them cost more than £3.

Single diners rejoice - this may well be the perfect place to go alone. The slightly mad clientele won’t give you a second glance, and any shyness will be eclipsed by the majestic wallpaper. The staff are happy to communicate entirely via the written word, so there’s no need to worry about getting tongue-tied while ordering, and the food is so delicious that you’ll be grateful not to have to share.

Just don’t go telling everyone about it.

---

Food + Drink - 3. You’ll discover a new favourite dish every time, and practically everything on the menu is delicious. Even (apparently) the tripe. Lots for vegetarians, not sure about vegans though.

Layout - 3. It is a small space, but all tables are individual so you’ll get your own space. Similarly, there are no good or bad tables to make you feel unwanted.

Awkwardness - 3. Nobody will notice that you’re alone, and you may even forget yourself.

Service - 3. There may not be much conversation, but there is lots of laughing. The staff are outstanding, and will always happily guide you through the menu/tell you to stop ordering now.

Convenience - 3. Writing your order down on a bit of paper and handing it to the waiter is ideal if you’re feeling particularly introspective. You pay at the till when you leave, so there is no awkward lingering.

Overall - 15/15. We have a winner!

---

Book: Anything by Michael Palin. Dream of the Himalayan foothills.

£ - Nothing costs more than a fiver, and it is all criminally underpriced.

Kailash Momo

79 Woolwich New Road (next to the DLR)

London