Moo Cows 'n Gravy

Southern Adventist University taught me to have an adventurous pallet. This is not because Southern had a great variety of food, in fact meals have a one week cycle and most of the days are pretty similar. No, it's because the food at Southern is so uniformly bad that it taught me to totally ignore the taste, smell and texture of anything I'm eating.

It was in this spirit that I, a vegetarian, ate beef last night.

After my last class I was exhausted and really wanted to go to bed. However, when Brandon invited me out to eat pizza with a bunch of students I jumped at the chance. I had wanted to be able to explore the city at night, but they had discouraged us from going out alone. Going out with the group would let me explore, and perhaps pick up some more Mongolian.

We walked down the street, passing stumbling drunks and begging street children. I was surprised to see them, as I had never seen either drunks or street children in that area during the daytime. Perhaps Mongolia has simply gotten better at hiding it's dark underside.

We continued down the street through the forest of flickering signs, passing brightly lit bars and dark, dusty construction sites. We had to cross the street, which was interesting since it was rush hour (as it always is). The speeding cars formed a river of blurred lights as they rushed past. fortunately our group was large. As we stepped out into the road the river of cars stopped and let us through, something that they rarely (if ever) do for a lone person.

We made it to the pizza place, which was actually a restaurant and bar. Unfortunately it was full, as was the next place. The students proposed that we go to a Mongolian restaurant, since it was cheaper anyway. Brandon was a bouncy ball of enthusiasm, which is saying something since he usually has all the expression of a wet beagle. I was just trying to keep my cookies down.

The restaurant smelled strongly of mutton and milk. This is distinctly different from lamb and American milk. Mongolian milk has it's own distinct smell, and mutton is... mutton. People describe it as "strong and gamey". I'm not exactly sure what the phrase "gamey" means, since dead sheep smells nothing like live deer, but that's what they say.

We sat down at a table and the Mongolians began enthusiastically discussion options as Brandon and I stared awkwardly at the all-mongolian menu. Hothlan, a girl from the school, soon began throwing options at us. I ordered egg and corn tea, having no idea what form of 'egg' I was getting, or what exactly 'corn tea' was.

Corn tea turned out to be an extremely dilute form of oatmeal, or perhaps sweetened milk with oats floating in it. It could be eaten or drunk, depending on one's mood. The egg, unfortunately, never arrived. Instead I relieved a plate of beef, potatoes, and pickled vegetables. I stared at the beef. It appeared to be mostly fat. Most of my experience with animal fat had come from dissecting dead things for purposes other than consumption, like study, or even for consumption by others.

But hey, as Brandon told me with a hint of disdain (aimed in my direction) this was Mongolia.

I, a vegetarian, ate several chunks of the extremely chewy beef. I continued this exercise of willpower until some of it got stuck in my teeth. At that point I began wondering exactly what manner of cow-bit was stuck in my chompers, and that was about enough. Still, I downed more than half of it.

Besides, the other people at the table (who were taking things from each other's plates) didn't want any of the beef off of my plate.

That there's substandard beef.

Moo.