The UB Post-Leading English News

The Veggie Restaurant: The Secret to a Great Ablution

Written by Kirril Shields
Thursday, November 20, 2008.
A FEW months back, Anna Morozow wrote an article in the UB Post about the rise of vegetarianism amongst the Mongolian population and the subsequent growth of vegetarian restaurants in Ulaanbaatar. To reaffirm her assertion that vegetarianism is on the up, the restaurant under review this week, the Veggie Restaurant, is an establishment she failed to note in her article, but involves no meat, nor any alcohol, and is proving very popular with the city’s youth. The idea, the menu states, is your body goes through an ablution with a selection teas and healthy meals on offer. Interesting! The first thing you notice is the lush and well-kept interior. Having only opened in June, everything is shiny and well polished. At one point in its history, the restaurant boasted a fountain, but as the glue didn’t hold and the fountain cracked into a million pieces, the restaurant suddenly found space for an extra two or three tables; providential given that the restaurant, in summer, is packed with young Mongolians filling themselves on traditional Mongolian food with a vegetarian twist. As a group of diners on this particular day, we comprised of a Mongolian, an American, three Russians and an Australian, and the choice of meal came to reflect nationality rather than personality. The dishes were spread on the table and we all tried a little of each. Don’t go expecting a zany mix of vegetable eclecticism. There are soups, salads and a bunch of Mongolian dishes done with vegetables; there is nothing too exotic nor avant-garde. But, and this is a big but, Mongolian food becomes interesting and flavoursome when vegetables are introduced. Don’t get me wrong. I love a good plate of khuushuur, but the persistent taint of lamb fat and the dull repetition of unseasoned mince gets tiresome. The Veggie Restaurant, like one or two other vegetarian restaurants in Ulaanbaatar, serves up a tasty version of buuz and a ‘Mongolian BBQ’ to name but two dishes. The salads are not dissimilar to the salads you find in a guanz –boiled potato, beetroot, and a little carrot- but in this instance, the vegetables are fresh and they aren’t drowned in mayonnaise. While the Russians seemed to sway towards the salads -keeping themselves the lean structured individuals they are- the American and Australian went for the BBQ option, while the Mongolian ordered tsuivan and buuz. For me, the scent coming from a plate of tsuivan is like smelling a recently formed pool of vomit; it makes me want to throw up. I spent three weeks living on nothing but tsuivan and never again will I touch the stuff. And this serving, minus the meat, was no exception. By the looks of it, it had very little of the normal grease oozing through it and a waft of coriander floated towards me, yet not even that was enough to dull the whiff of the noodles themselves. I left the tsuivan for the others. The Mongolian BBQ was a mixture of sliced vegetables all covered in a spice mix and then fried on a hot plate. Not bad, but again nothing exceptional. The buuz was my favourite, and goes to show what a little garlic and spice can do to a dish. The main ingredient was cabbage, and the little parcel reminiscent of an Australian culinary institution, the Chiko Roll; far tastier than the traditional meaty version, and it oozed garlic. I’m not going to turn people away from the place, as it is good, and it’s fresh and healthy. If you’re in the mood for Mongolian food, or you want to take tourists some place to experience Mongolian food with the addition of greens, don’t hold back. While there, I was informed by the restaurant’s owner that the reason the restaurant has survived thus far was the modern trend for a holistic life by the city’s youth. A glance around the establishment seemed to confirm her statement. There was nobody over the age of about thirty (yours truly the exception) and smoothies and natural teas that promised a good (solid?) enema were being drunk in abundance. Or maybe these were people over the age of thirty and they’d discovered the fountain of youth. Aside from the ablution, some of the menu did promise anti-aging properties. While the Mongolian food is not a great draw card, a good enema and the promise of rejuvenation are an instant magnet for me, and so too all of you. The restaurant is located on the second floor of a building that sits to the side of the Bayangol Hotel. The meal will cost about Tg15,000 a head, and includes teas, smoothies and desert if so desired.