A Pictorial Recipe
Okay, it’s not really a recipe at all. I don’t have any measurements. I’m only guessing at some of the ingredients…but it is food. And it was darn good food at that!
We had been in Mongolia for about three days, and we had hired a Russian van and driver to take six of us around the country, hitting the highlights. We were excited, and maybe a bit naive to what this would mean. We didn’t even take the hint when Jack, our driver, made a supermarket stop on the edge of Ulaan Bator right at the beginning of our nine day journey. None of us really stocked up on much, a few snacks. That’s it!
What we didn’t realize was that there was not going to be much food on this trip. We were supposed to provide it, but that somehow got lost in translation. About an hour after the shopping stop, we ran out of pavement. Yep, no more pavement. At all. No road signs, no tarmac, just dirt tracks. And yet we still went happily along not really knowing what we were getting ourselves into.
Our accommodations were extra gers that the nomadic families living out on the steppes put up and lend out. They were comfortable, and even warm. We expected to be fed by these same families, and in all fairness each and every one of them brought us something. It just wasn’t much…at all.
By day three we were, with our over-fed western stomachs, upon the brink of starvation. When we pulled into a windswept town, we all yelled at Jack, “Restaurant, restaurant!” He dropped us off in front of this yurt. It did have a sign…”Fast Food!” Yay! We were going to eat!
There were three people in the ger, an older woman and what appeared to be her two daughters. They were all busy smilingly making there treats. There was only one thing on the menu, and if you didn’t want that, you didn’t eat. No big deal. We wanted it.
….well….Wait a minute. “Exactly what is it?” we wanted to know. Jack smiled. He loved talking to us about food.
“It’s Khuushuur!” he said, and “It’s made with horse meat. You will love it!”
Really? Now we noticed that bowl of red, yellow, and green bits stuck under the table. It wasn’t in a refrigerator you notice.
But as I said, we were hungry. Not hungry, really. Starving! All six of us shoved our western sensibilities aside and ordered up a few khuushuur each. We watched with drooling anticipation as we watched them roll out the dough, cut them in perfect little circles using a small plate as a template, and then drop them into some (questionable) hot oil.
We were so depraved, that we all bit right into the hot mess. Horse meat….really? It was delicious! We were disappointed when there really was only enough for each of us to have only two. We bought out the whole restaurant.
Somewhat like a meat pie, hot and horsy, we scarfed them down and were happy for it.
You would think that when we got to the next town, two or three days later, we would have been a little more cautious, but no. Immediately we would start chanting, “Restaurant, restaurant!” and good ol’ Jack would find us something to curb our voracious western appetites!
Would you eat Khuushuur?