He grinned as he peeled a wrapper off the counter and filled it. He moved nearer to show her close-up how he pleated the tops. It took several tries, but with his hands under hers, she was able to make dumplings that looked almost as good as his.
“Hey,” Kamila said as she carefully measured a teaspoon of filling into another wrapper. “Did you know momos were almost banned in Delhi a few years ago?”
He raised his brow. “That’s absurd. Why?”
“They claimed it was because of the monosodium glutamate. But instead of banning the ingredient, this whacky politician decided to try to ban the entire food.” She pleated the dough over the little mound of filling. “MSG is in fried chicken and Doritos, but they decided to go after this one Tibetan dish that had recently become ridiculously popular in India. It’s totally xenophobia. Fear of the unknown and nationalism is the root of it, as usual.” She put the completed momo on the parchment-paper-lined tray, ensuring it didn’t touch any of the surrounding dumplings. Kamila was determined that no momo should ever touch another momo again, lest they get stuck together, forever. They would live solitary, lonely lives until they met in her stomach.
“It’s weird,” she continued as she pinched off a piece of dough for the next dumpling. “I’m, like, super happy to be Indian, and the food and culture are awesome, but we’re Muslim, too. With the nationalistic sentiments getting stronger, at some point we may have to examine our obsession with Bollywood and question what we are supporting. That’s why I picked the movieAmar, Akbar, Anthonythis week. I wanted to see if it really does celebrate religious tolerance like I remember it does. Also, that scene with Amitabh jumping out of an egg and dancing is epic. Too bad we couldn’t have done a seventies theme again for tonight. Remember? Asha made the best pineapple upside-down cake the last time we watched a swank seventies movie.” She couldn’t do a theme party on the week she was trying to besophisticatedto impress Anil.
Kamila then noticed Rohan was no longer making momos and was looking at her, a curious expression on his face.
“What? Did I do something wrong?” she asked, looking at the momo in her hand.
His eyes were wide, and his expression was a new one. The slightest hint of…admiration. “No. It’s what you said about India. This is what I mean when I say people underestimate you. I think they’re making a big mistake.”
“Nonsense. I’m exactly who I appear to be.” She turned on the stove to heat the water in the steamer. “Now, are you ready to get all hot and steamy with me?” She winked.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “There’s my Kam. Trouble to the core. You going to tell me where your tattoo is yet?”
She smiled impishly. “Nope. You’ll just have to use your imagination. You can thank me for that later, because that daydream is going to be life changing.”
Chapter 10
By some stroke of divine luck, most of the momos were steamed and on the tiered platter by the time Asha and Nicole arrived at the brownstone.
“Yay!” Asha said as Kamila spooned chutney into gold bowls. “Momo Hut!”
Kamila beamed with pride. “Nope. Hussain Hut! We made these. Rohan and I.”
“Really?” Asha pulled a spoon out of the drawer and tasted the chutney. She frowned. “This is good.” She looked at Rohan. “I’m going to need the recipe.”
Rohan grinned. “Ask Kam. She made the chutney and the paneer kebobs. I only helped with the momos.”
“Did anything catch fire?”
Kamila crossed her arms and glared at her so-called friend.
“Don’t listen to her, Kam,” Rohan said. “You were awesome. Very competent in the kitchen today.”
He hadn’t mentioned the wet-tissue momos or pointed out that the paneer wasn’t supposed to be blackened, so she gave him a smile. “Thanks to you. If the finance thing ever grows stale, we should give it all up and open a momo cart on Queen West.”
“Deal.” They shook on it.
“Kamila, what exactly are you wearing?” Asha asked. “Shit. Was there supposed to be aBreakfast at Tiffany’stheme tonight?”
Kamila ignored her and took out the next batch of momos from the steamer. The rest of the guests—but not Anil—arrived in quick succession, and soon all were huddled around the dining table holding fancy plates and munching on paneer kebobs and momos. Everyone agreed the food was incredible. When the biryani arrived, people cheered.
Kamila was spooning the biryani onto a platter when she noticed Dane was talking to Maricel. Excellent. She joined them when she was done, hoping to get a feel for how their true love was progressing.
Dane grinned at Kamila after she said hello. “Maricel was just telling me about the movie we’re watching tonight.”
“Yes,Amar, Akbar, Anthony. It’s an old-school bonkers Bollywood classic. Do you follow Bollywood?”
“I’ve been doing some research since you first invited me. I haven’t heard of this title, though.”
“It’s fab. I used to watch it once a week when I was a kid but haven’t seen it in ages. Have you seen it, Maricel?”
“No. I’ve only seen—”
