Food (khool)

Although I expected Mongolian food to be challenging, I figured if I came with the proper attitude I'd be fine. Boy did I overestimate my abilities. The first Mongolian dish I tried was banshtai shol, on the theory that I never met a dumpling I didnt like. The wrapper was fine, but the meat filling was so muttony-tasting, fatty and grainy that I ended up just eating the wrappers and leaving the little meatballs floating forlornly in the broth. My next attempt, at the recommendation of my lunch companion, was rolled fish (perch? pike? carp? Siberian salmon? The menu didn't specify). Anyhow, it was too weird for me to eat. So then I tried "fast food." That was a little scary, because the fast part of it is that all the ingredients are already cooked and sitting out, uncovered, in the kitchen. I watched in wonder as the worker took that previously-fried egg, previously cooked meat, and a scoop of rice and slapped them all on my plate. McDonalds could learn a thing or two.

Next strategy: cooking at home. Great idea, except for two problems. First, I can't read the labels on any of the signs, cans or jars. But never mind, I know what cabbage, carrots, leeks and garlic look like. I even found what appeared to be wild cranberries that must have come from the country side. (A treat for an Alaskan who hasn't found any wild cranberries in years).

Mercury market, my vegetable heaven. Great for meats and cheeses, too.

But the second problem was more serious-- no spices. Mongolians don't appear to use any spices, herbs or seasonings in their food (unless you count "lard" as a seasoning), and those things therefore are not for sale, even at the "tourist" stores. Thomas is sending me an emergency spice package. Until it arrives, I guess I'll have to resort to eating at the foreign food restaurants, of which there are many (Indian, pizza, German, French). But you pay tourist prices!