Hello, my name is Paquita and it has been two days, eight hours and twenty-four minutes since I last had a vegetable. I fantasized about salads again today. This one was a kale salad with goat cheese and roasted pine nuts.
Peace Corps told our host-families that our delicate American bodies would need time to adjust to the diet, and to make sure they were feeding their American breakfast and plenty of vegetables. My first day here, I got a bowl of apples and vegetable soup (with meat, of course). Yesterday I got beef and flour soup (just what it sounds like), and that is because my host-family is still being delicate with me. Normally there would be a lot more mutton in the mix. There are only a handful of vegetarians here, and I’m not entirely sure what they are eating. Not eating meat to a Mongolian means being sick in some way.
We volunteers fall under two umbrellas: those like James, whose meat and carbohydrate needs are finally being met and could happily eat like this forever, and those like me, who are grateful for the food on our plates, but recognize that once I am living on my own, there are going to be some changes around here. Step one, let’s stop deep frying the eggs, and let’s learn to use the salt shaker.
Don’t get me wrong, Mongolian food is quite tasty. With the addition of a little hot sauce, it can even be delicious. Before coming here, I was told Mongolians don’t like spicy food, but that is a falsehood, demonstrated empirically by the fact that the medium-sized bottle of Sriracha I gave to my host-family was finished in four days. FOUR DAYS. They like spicy food alright, but the spice (and foodstuffs) selection does not lend itself to adventurous cooking. They have the foods they know they like, and they make those foods really well.
If you need a whole goat roasted, call up your closest Mongolian friend and get the party started, because they are superb at cooking meat in the great outdoors. I have never been to a “Mongolian barbeque” in America, but I am told it is nothing even remotely close to an actual Mongolian barbecue. A horhog is a Mongolian institution in which cut up meat is cooked with hot rocks on a pot over an open fire. Another variation of this is bodog, putting the hot rocks inside the carcass of the animal, sewing the carcass back up and searing the outside.
Because Mongolians are some of the least wasteful people on the planet, they cook everything and make the most out of the limited ingredients available. They even have a special technique to kill the animal so as to spill as little blood as possible (think of all the sausage you could make with that blood!). There are many dishes I have tried that I doubt can be found anywhere else. Fermented mare’s milk for example, airag, which tastes somewhere between sour cream and that watery substance on the top of yogurt, if it were alcoholic and ever so slightly carbonated.
Somehow, the Mongolian body does not need anything other than meat, bread, and potatoes, with the occasional cabbage, to survive. Yet another reason Mongolians are amazing. Taking the harsh Mongolian climate into consideration the food is everything it needs to be: nourishing and high in calories. Take for example arul: patties of curdled milk cheese that are perfect if you are a horseback rider on the way to your next conquest and don’t have time to stop for a meal; in other words, the original protein bar. I personally think arul rather bland and dry, but I recognize what a brilliant solution for transporting food it is.
Transporting and storing food can be a bit of a prickly subject because refrigeration has not altogether caught on here, which makes shopping for meat at the market, where almost all the meat is sold, a fraught minefield. You can find both the freshest, most organic, free-range meat you have ever had in your life, but that same meat can turn rancid and give you days of diarrhea if you don’t buy it soon enough. My host-parents know the difference and put all the meat they expertly buy into their freezer, but like a young grasshopper, I still have a lot to learn about choosing meat. Scratch that, I still have a lot to learn about everything here.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to my salad fantasy. Oh yeah, lightly drizzle that vinaigrette…
Note: This post was actually written in July, but posting was delayed due to limited internet connectivity.