On A Dumpling Kick? Try Nepali Momos at This Englewood Restaurant

Rocky Mountain Momo on East Arapahoe Road in Englewood is the product of a partnership built on ambition, discipline, and a shared belief that a humble Nepali street food could one day become as ubiquitous in America as sushi.

Momos are Nepal’s answer to dumplings, which as we know are having a moment across the Denver area. And from the beginning, Rocky Mountain Momos was conceived as more than a commercial venture. It’s also an act of cultural translation. The name itself reflects that balance. The term “momo” stays intact — no rebranding to “Nepali dumplings” — while “Rocky Mountain” roots the concept firmly in Colorado.

“We wanted it to still be momo, and represent the dumplings from Nepal,” says Rabee Sharma, who with husband Prachyut Shrestha owns Rocky Mountain Momo.

That decision runs counter to conventional restaurant strategy, where many Nepali restaurants in the U.S. lean on Indian cuisine to attract customers more familiar with butter chicken or biryani. Shrestha understands why.

“Indian food is more familiar,” he says. “Nepali food hasn’t grown yet.”

But Rocky Mountain Momo deliberately resists that shortcut. The goal is education as much as sales — introducing diners to a cuisine that remains largely under the radar. And the couple is thinking big.

“My vision was to make momo the next sushi,” Shrestha says.

Both grew up in Kathmandu before immigrating to the United States — she to Colorado, he to Missouri. They met here, married in 2017, and eventually settled in the Denver area. Neither came from a restaurant background. In fact, both still work demanding full-time jobs: Sharma as a global mobility specialist and equity administrator, Shrestha as a data architect for a nonprofit. The restaurant, in other words, wasn’t part of a lifelong plan.

“Restaurant was never even in the picture,” Shrestha says flatly.

Instead, it emerged from a series of entrepreneurial experiments — five or six ideas that didn’t pan out — before one finally clicked. The seed had been planted years earlier, when Shrestha pitched the idea of supplying momos to local restaurants. In 2021, a restaurant contact circled back and asked if he could deliver. That moment turned a dormant idea into a working business.

The couple began producing momos with a machine out of a commissary kitchen, supplying frozen dumplings to restaurants, friends and family. Feedback came in. Recipes were refined. Demand slowly grew. But Sharma saw a bigger issue: no one would buy momos at scale if they didn’t know what they were.

“How is the general population going to know about momo without even trying it?” she recalls asking.

That question led directly to the restaurant.

Building a Business — and a Cultural Bridge

While ambitious, the sushi comparison is hardly an accidental one. Sushi itself was once considered exotic, even off-putting, in the United States. Today, it’s everywhere—from high-end omakase counters to grocery store grab-and-go cases. Shrestha sees a similar trajectory for momos: from unfamiliar to mainstream, eventually showing up in supermarkets and convenience stores.

If the vision sounds lofty, the day-to-day reality is anything but romantic. Sharma and Shrestha run the restaurant while maintaining full-time careers. Their schedule is relentless: early mornings, corporate workdays, then evenings and nights at the restaurant. Weekends are often consumed by running the restaurant, serving at community events, or simply catching up.

“If you work nine to six for somebody else,” Shrestha says, offering a line that sounds like it’s been rehearsed and lived, “why wouldn’t you work six to nine for yourself?”

The discipline behind that mindset is striking. The couple plans their days in 15-minute increments. They avoid multitasking between jobs and restaurant responsibilities. If delays happen, they absorb the consequences themselves rather than pushing them onto staff. There’s also a level of financial realism that’s rare among first-time restaurateurs. Shrestha, who approaches problems like a mathematician, says they anticipated losses for the first 18 months. In reality, it stretched beyond two years.

“We knew it would happen,” he says. “It was pre-calculated risk.”

That combination — vision paired with careful execution — is something the couple sees as their core strength. Shrestha describes himself as the “vision” person; Sharma is the “builder.”

“She is actually Rocky Mountain Momo,” he says.

The restaurant opened on International Women’s Day, March 8, two years ago. That detail feels intentional, almost symbolic, once the story of Rocky Mountain Momo begins to unfold. 

A Café That Feels Like Kathmandu

Step inside the restaurant, which is tucked inside a strip mall on Arapahoe Road off I-25, and the goal becomes clear: recreate not just the food, but the feeling of a Nepali café. It’s intentionally casual. No dress code. No pretension. Just a space where people can walk in, share tables, and experience something new.

“We wanted a very small space,” Sharma says. “A café style. You don’t have to dress up… just come in and enjoy a plate of momo.”

Authenticity is central to that experience. The spices are imported directly from Nepal, such as a 25-kilogram shipment that recently arrived for summer use. The recipes remain true to their origins, not adjusted to fit American palates. More than momos (yes, they still sell frozen momos), the eatery offers a Nepali street food staple, Chow Mein (a reflection of Nepal’s closeness to Tibet and China), a spicy Chicken Choila small plate, Chatamari, a Nepali take on pizza or a flatbread pancake, and more. They have chai made with a homemade spice mix that’s sold in jars, and available hot for free samples to customers. 

And customers are responding in ways that go beyond simple satisfaction. Sharma recalls a recent guest who had just returned from a month-long trip to Nepal. She not only praised the food as authentic, but began explaining the menu to other first-time diners, effectively becoming an ambassador for the restaurant.

“That made me so proud,” Sharma says. “To create a space where people feel like they’re home.”

Sacrifice and a Shrinking Social Circle

The price of building something like Rocky Mountain Momo isn’t just measured in hours or dollars. It’s also social. The couple estimates they’ve lost about 95 percent of their social life over the past two years. Free time is scarce. Vacations are rare — just a brief trip to Vail last year.

But like everything else they’ve done, the tradeoff is intentional.

“These are the sacrifices that we have to make,” Sharma says, “if we want to build something for ourselves.”

What remains is a smaller circle of close friends who show up at the restaurant, bringing birthday cakes, celebrating milestones, or simply stopping by to say hello. In a way, that mirrors the communal atmosphere the couple is trying to create for customers.

Betting on the Long Game

Rocky Mountain Momo is still in its early stages. The couple is candid about the challenges: financial pressures, long hours, and the difficulty of introducing an unfamiliar cuisine to a broad audience. But their focus remains fixed on the long game.

Shrestha talks about five- to eight-year plans already mapped out in his head. Sharma continues refining operations, building systems, and shaping the customer experience. The affable and efficient staff works during the day while the bosses are at their other jobs.

Together as a couple and as a team, they’re trying to do something that’s both deeply personal and broadly ambitious: take a food rooted in the streets of Kathmandu and make it part of everyday American life.

It’s a risky bet. But then again, so was sushi once.

And if Rocky Mountain Momo succeeds, Denver may end up being one of the places where momo began its own journey—from unfamiliar curiosity to something everyone knows by name.

Rocky Mountain Momo is located at 9678 East Arapahoe Road, Englewood, and is open from 11:30 a.m. to 9 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday. For more information, visit rmmomo.com.