Normally my travels take me to those culinary capitals that are on every gourmand’s list…Florence, Paris, Napa and even to more exotic destinations like Bangkok and Saigon. Trust me, I love my job. But when I’m not staying in gorgeous villas and being wined and dined by the best I pay good money to rough it. Yes, I actually pay people to keep me away from everything that we love about the 21st century.
With this in mind and coming up on a big birthday, I informed my partner that we would spend two weeks in Mongolia over the summer. His reply? “I don’t get it. But I trust you. Let’s go.” Thankfully he didn’t need much more convincing than that. Other friends of mine were equally perplexed which led me to wonder, why DO I want to go to Mongolia? It wasn’t for my job as owner of a culinary tour company. No, this trip was for my love of wide open spaces, horses, and adventure.
First of all, let’s get this out of the way. I do not eat meat. A gourmet who doesn’t eat meat? Yes…it is true. But, traveling to a meat eating culture? Yes…that too is true. So I diligently packed my protein bars and vacuum packs of tuna and set off on an adventure of a different sort. Food was not supposed to be on the agenda. Little did I know…you can’t escape it.
With this in mind and coming up on a big birthday, I informed my partner that we would spend two weeks in Mongolia over the summer. His reply? “I don’t get it. But I trust you. Let’s go.” Thankfully he didn’t need much more convincing than that. Other friends of mine were equally perplexed which led me to wonder, why DO I want to go to Mongolia? It wasn’t for my job as owner of a culinary tour company. No, this trip was for my love of wide open spaces, horses, and adventure.First of all, let’s get this out of the way. I do not eat meat. A gourmet who doesn’t eat meat? Yes…it is true. But, traveling to a meat eating culture? Yes…that too is true. So I diligently packed my protein bars and vacuum packs of tuna and set off on an adventure of a different sort. Food was not supposed to be on the agenda. Little did I know…you can’t escape it.
We set off on a five day camping expedition in the Terlj National Park, north of the capital. Leading the trek were a horseman, our guide Bulgaa, and a cook. While I was finally given his name at the end of the trek, we all called him “the cook.” Cook worked tirelessly from sunrise to sunset preparing all sorts of local dishes. On the first morning, I was awakened by the familiar sound of a knife chopping on a cutting board
as our cook prepped for the day’s menu. After chopping a variety of root vegetables we watched him roll out dough which was then cut into noodles for what was called Mongolian “noodle soup” or Guriltai Shul. The same dough was transformed into meat pies or Khuushuur. These tasty meat pies (mine was made w
ith fruit and cheese) are sold on every corner in the capital and seem to be very popular at wrestling matches. For us, they were a part of a picnic taken on a horse trek high in the mountains where we explored a crumbling monastery.
as our cook prepped for the day’s menu. After chopping a variety of root vegetables we watched him roll out dough which was then cut into noodles for what was called Mongolian “noodle soup” or Guriltai Shul. The same dough was transformed into meat pies or Khuushuur. These tasty meat pies (mine was made w
ith fruit and cheese) are sold on every corner in the capital and seem to be very popular at wrestling matches. For us, they were a part of a picnic taken on a horse trek high in the mountains where we explored a crumbling monastery.A word about Mongolian cuisine. While Mongolia is the least populated independent country on the planet, with plenty of wide open green space, the summers are short and there’s not a lot of time to grow vegetables. Harsh winters dictate that the Mongolians, a nomadic culture, eat a lot of protein and fat. So the traditional dishes are filling and hearty.
In the summer, when milk is abundant the nomadic diet centers on dairy products. I had read about airag, or fermented mare’s milk, and of course jumped at the chance to try it. Killing tie as we waited for a truck to pick us up on Terij, we set off on a walk across the steppe. Bulgaa spotted a ger with mares and foals and decided to take us for a visit. Hospitality is a big part of the nomadic culture and we were immediately invited in the family’s tent for a taste of airag and some snacks. Tradition dictates that visitors be offered a cup of airag upon arrival at a ger. Most Mongolians will drink the entire cu
p but thankfully it’s only necessary to take one sip before returning the cup to your hostess. What does it taste like? Think of the sourest, gamey yogurt in a liquid form and you get an idea. Along with the mare’s milk we sampled salty tea (Suutei Tsai), cheese curds (Aruul), clotted cream (urum), and some homemade biscuits.We also were able to watch and learn about the process of making the airag. First the mares are milked. This is quite a project as one person has to hold the foal so that the female ho
rse thinks the baby is nursing. The whole family got involved, even the teenagers home from university on summer break. The milk is then placed in a large leather open sack, which is then stirred often for a couple of days so that it can ferment. The stuff almost holds a mythical place in Mongolian culture. Our guide’s father goes to the countryside every summer just so he can drink mare’s milk for his health.
As we returned to the capital, we saw many roadside stands selling airag in liter bottles. Cars crammed with families and bearing the Mongolian flag crowded the road as practically the entire population migrated to UB (Ulaanbataar) for Nadaam. Herder’s trucks loaded with goats and sheep were stopped alongside the road as buyers came to pick out an animal for slaughter. No meat processing plant here…the livestock was slaughtered on the side of the road and prepared for sale or for a family celebration in the city.
rse thinks the baby is nursing. The whole family got involved, even the teenagers home from university on summer break. The milk is then placed in a large leather open sack, which is then stirred often for a couple of days so that it can ferment. The stuff almost holds a mythical place in Mongolian culture. Our guide’s father goes to the countryside every summer just so he can drink mare’s milk for his health.As we returned to the capital, we saw many roadside stands selling airag in liter bottles. Cars crammed with families and bearing the Mongolian flag crowded the road as practically the entire population migrated to UB (Ulaanbataar) for Nadaam. Herder’s trucks loaded with goats and sheep were stopped alongside the road as buyers came to pick out an animal for slaughter. No meat processing plant here…the livestock was slaughtered on the side of the road and prepared for sale or for a family celebration in the city.
UB was hopping the night before Nadaam. We threw our backpacks in our room, hopped in the shower, and set out for a well deserved meal at an Indian-Mexican restaurant. After five days on the steppes, the prospect of dinner in a restaurant was mouthwatering. You can find a surprising number of international restaurants in the capital, serving everything from Korean to California cuisine. While the idea of fusing Indian and Mexican cuisine is novel, it works for Los Bandidos. I feasted on Ghinggiss beer and Saag Paneer while my partner enjoyed lamb stuffed burritos and a margarita.
Nadaam was all that I hoped it would be. While it is an athletic competition, it is also an incredible display of Mongolian pride and tradition. Watching soldiers carrying the state flags on horseback and hearing the drum beat of war, it was easy to imagine the days of Ginggis Khaan and past glories of this now small independent nation. From Mongolian wrestling to horse racing and archery we got a special look into the culture and history of the country.What better way to cap off a day at Nadaam than to have dinner at California restaurant? While I normally wouldn’t chose to eat in an American restaurant, it was on our tour itinerary and I thought it would be fun to see how our cuisine is interpreted by other cultures. The menu offered hamburgers and French fries, club sandwiches, grilled chicken sandwiches, and smoothies. Our guide told us the restaurant is particularly popular with young Mongolians who like to go there to make contact with Americans.
After Nadaam we headed to the Gobi desert, a vast barren land that covers a good portion of southern Mongolia. It seems like to go anywhere in the desert you have to drive three hours.
And it is not easy driving…our Soviet vehicle handle the terrain well (there are no roads) but I soon found out that the padded 70esque ceiling was more than just decoration. There are a few towns in the Gobi but most tourists stay in ger camps which are sprinkled across the desert. At our first camp we enjoyed a lunch of steamed dumplings and carrot salad. As a non-meat eater I received double portions of the potatoes and carrots. That night we had more meat and potatoes. I had purchased a bottle of Chinggis vodka…Bulgaa and our driver were happy to share a shot while I enjoyed a vodka tonic.
And it is not easy driving…our Soviet vehicle handle the terrain well (there are no roads) but I soon found out that the padded 70esque ceiling was more than just decoration. There are a few towns in the Gobi but most tourists stay in ger camps which are sprinkled across the desert. At our first camp we enjoyed a lunch of steamed dumplings and carrot salad. As a non-meat eater I received double portions of the potatoes and carrots. That night we had more meat and potatoes. I had purchased a bottle of Chinggis vodka…Bulgaa and our driver were happy to share a shot while I enjoyed a vodka tonic.One of the must see sites in the Gobi are the singing sand dunes where you can climb to the top and also experience a camel ride at the base. The herding family who owns the camels graciously offered more airag…interesting to 
taste as the horses in the desert eat a different type of grass. In fact I was surprised that they are a lot fatter in the desert. The herder explained that the reason is because motorcycles are now being used to herd livestock and the horses aren’t being worked as much. The other theory is that the grass is richer in the Gobi. Either way, the airag wasn’t as strong and a little more palatable. Could it be that I was getting a taste for it? Nah…..
taste as the horses in the desert eat a different type of grass. In fact I was surprised that they are a lot fatter in the desert. The herder explained that the reason is because motorcycles are now being used to herd livestock and the horses aren’t being worked as much. The other theory is that the grass is richer in the Gobi. Either way, the airag wasn’t as strong and a little more palatable. Could it be that I was getting a taste for it? Nah…..
We had to delay our camel ride as a sand storm blew in from the north. A mix of rain, wind and sand, the storm created amazing colors against the sand dunes. While the herder battened down the hatches of his ger, I stayed inside playing with a week old goat that the family was keeping safe until it grew bigger. It turns out wolves are a very big problem for herders in the desert, eating livestock even during the daylight hours.Our last night was in what was billed as a five star ger camp. There was a bar, a nice shared shower room with incense and candles, a spa, and in our ger our very own box of dung to burn in the stove. The food was traditional with a fancy spin on it. I would say it was just ok.
We flew back to the capital and were delighted to put on clean clothes and go out for our farewell dinner. This time it was in Hazara, a northern Indian restaurant serving what it called frontier food. We order plates to share…naan, curried chicken, grilled chicken shish kabob with lemon ginger, and tsatsiki. It was absolutely delicious and a welcome change from the ubiquitous meat and potatoes.
With free time the next day before our flight to Beijing, we wandered the city and stumbled on Luna Blanca, a restaurant that advertised itself to be vegetarian. While I was dubious, my partner encouraged me to check it out. It was really cute and at 11:30 already had a big table of customers eating lunch. I said we would come back but the hostess advised it would be filled and noisy within an hour. We stayed and what a great find it was! I was finally able to taste some of the traditional dishes that I longed to try but couldn’t due to the meat factor. So I ordered the Mongolian plate with buuz (small steamed dumplings), bansh (larger boiled dumplings), and khuushur (meat-less fried pies). They were all filled with a vegetarian protein along with onions and some spices. I ate half and took the rest on the plane with me to Beijing. We also ordered vegetarian kabobs and a traditional soup with dumplings. All delicious. We were so starved for vegetables that we ate the garnish!
Having fulfilled my need for vegetables I did not head straight to the salad bar at our airport hotel in Beijing. No, the only thing I really needed at that point was a glass of chardonnay…or two. We toasted our adventures, from horseback to Russian vehicle, and dreamed about our next getaway. Whether we plan it or not…somehow it will involve food.
