I love chinese food.
Now, say it again.
Who doesn’t like Chinese food, right? Aside from the self diagnosed monosodium-glutamate-phobes, which I won’t go into, everybody loves Chinese food.
Except in China.
What!? There’s no Mongolian lamb like I usually get down Kingsford-way at Yong Jings Kitchen Enlightenment?
My brain would shudder and spin swapping the frontal lobe with the cerebral cortex, in the process, if I hadn’t just made that stereotypical uncultivated sentence myself. But people like this exist. The fact is stingy student types, such as myself, no matter how classy our hotel residence, will attempt to save some money by eating smiley hash browns with salty water in order to buy a few extra bottles of soju.
But there’s more.
On the other end of the spectrum you can hunt down and pay a few red envelopes worth of cash for great delicacies, like the fish feet and chicken ears. Now, don’t ask me how or why, but if you are offered something of the sort by a chinese host, you better eat it and look like you’re enjoying it, while keeping in mind the last time you may have offered an unsuspecting foreigner some blue-vein cheese. Seriously, who eats delicious mouldy food?
It goes both ways.
Mongolia is not China.