Mongolian Grub: The Good, The Bad & The VERY Bad - Colleen Brynn Travels

Mongolian Grub: The Good, The Bad & The VERY Bad

Sep 22, 2013 by

He was French, from Paris, and when I met him, I stuttered a little because he looked so much like Johnny Depp. I almost couldn’t keep my cool. But the more we spoke, the more I realised how lovely and nonjudgmental he was, so I was able to relax a little, knowing he actually wasn’t Johnny Depp. We spoke English and French, and even though I tripped over my words in French, he told me my French was good.

Earlier at the hostel in Ulaanbaatar, I had heard a story about him. He sat outside his ger eating breakfast, and two Mongolian men had grabbed a sheep and were carrying it – one by its front legs, the other by its back legs. Without realising what was happening, the Frenchman watched as a third Mongolian man drove a knife into the sheep’s chest and dragged it down, slicing the animal open. The man brandishing the knife then plunged his hand deep into the sheep and clutched the heart, waiting for it to stop beating. The animal made horrible noises until finally, it all stopped. The man then began hauling out the sheep’s organs so that the animal may be prepared to be eaten.

When I met French Johnny Depp, we were in the tiny shared hostel kitchen preparing our dinners. He was eating cheese, cucumber, eggs and bread. He laughed and said he had no appetite for meat anymore.

As I hinted in my last post, Mongolian food was unforgettable, and not because it was delicious. At the best of times, it was passable and even okay. At the worst of times, it was gross. I’m the type of traveller who doesn’t complain about food; often I’m just happy to have something to eat. There are times when food isn’t an option, but when it came to Mongolian food, I was in denial about how bad it truly was until the very end.


The setting was beautiful. The food? Not so much…

I sat there in front of our ger, our home for the next two days, surrounded by the beautiful and imposing rock formations of Terelj National Park. The little boy (who later took us horseback riding) scuttled back and forth between our little outdoor table and his ger, bringing us dishes, cutlery, cups and tea. It was 2:00 pm, and I hadn’t eaten since morning, so I was looking forward to having a meal surrounded by the unbeatable landscape.

When the food arrived, I looked down, and this is what I saw:


I’m not even entirely sure what it is… I know there was some dry white bread. This bread had soaked up some of the juice from the pickled carrot situation beside it and had become soggy. There were potatoes (which were easily the best part) and some sort of cabbage slaw with mutton and those stomach churning blobs of fat. I ate most of it (having been raised to think of the starving children in Africa) but left the white fat blobs untouched.

 Later, it began to rain, and we were confined to our ger for dinner. Two young boys came and started a fire for us and brought us our meals.


Not a great shot of my legs OR this meal…

Again, not entirely sure what this is. There were potatoes and noodles and bits of meat, and ketchup doused on top. Since we had no light in our ger, we ate by candlelight that night. Often, I couldn’t tell what I was picking up off my plate. Sometimes I would think it was a potato. Nope! Blob of fat.

The next day, there was this:


I didn’t mind the beets, and I didn’t mind the rice. But again with the meat! It was at this point that I didn’t think I would be able to eat like this for the rest of my time in Mongolia. And it was this meal, I’m quite certain, that put my friend over the edge and had her flying in and out of our ger that night. See, she ate the meat, and I didn’t.

After this, we began telling our hosts that we were vegetarian.

So we got vegetarian dumplings in Kharkhorin the next night, and these actually weren’t bad. Also, dumplings, guys.



And certainly we deserved a beer, right?

Our next vegetarian dish was the vegetable stew that I described in this post.

During one of our longer journeys, we made a lunch stop at a small, rudimentary restaurant. Our guide ordered “fried noodles” for us. This really could have been anything. It could have been amazing with a vague description like fried noodles. It also could have been less than amazing, which it was. It was this:


There were fried noodles, sure. There were also bits of pepper(?)… I think? and carrot and egg. It was a pile of carbs, really, that was it. The only saving grace was the soy sauce we had at our table. I drowned each bite I took with sauce to make it somewhat palatable.

At our last stop on the edge of the Gobi desert, once again, we requested a vegetarian meal, and once again, we were presented with a plate of food that would make crickets chirp or Gordon Ramsey shout. Yet, I told myself it actually wasn’t that bad. Without the meat, the food was at least kind of recognizable


Note the rope tied to a rock which held down part of our ger roof in the desert…

Again with the noodles and ketchup. Potatoes (best part? Pretty much). Soy meat (weird? Yep). Beets. All in all, really nothing wonderful, but nothing horrific like the diarrhea and vomit inducing meat we’d eaten only days before.

I asked our guide about the meat. He was the one who told us that Mongolians love the fat, that for them, it’s the best part. He told us that yes, they kill animals like how I had described. I had also met some British travellers who had witnessed a sheep being beaten to death, bludgeoned over the head until it died before it was then prepared to be eaten. My guide also confirmed this is a common method of killing an animal.

“It’s not good,” he said. “The way they kill the animals, it’s so bad. The animal is stressed, you know, and then that stress goes into the meat, and when the people eat it, they also become stressed and you can tell this in Mongolia. The people aren’t relaxed. It’s really hard.”

On my last morning in Terelj, I watched as the father and two others led a cow away from the pasture. I watched, wondering if I was about to witness what French Johnny Depp and the British travellers had recounted. Was I about to witness the slaughtering of an animal? Did I want to see this? In fact, I didn’t, so I went inside the ger, hoping the event would be over by the time I came out. When I emerged through the low doorway after a while, I saw the cow on the ground. Though I couldn’t see details or hear anything because it was all happening too far away (thankfully), it was obvious to me what had just happened. I took a moment to appreciate the cow’s life and that it had died to feed people and the family living there.

Whenever I eat meat, I think about the animal’s life, and I appreciate it.

And now… on a lighter note, let’s revisit the stuff that was actually passable.

When I crossed the border from Russia to Mongolia, and my day consisted, in short, of being hungover, broke, hungry and with a whole lot of hitchhiking, I was very, VERY happy to see this that evening:


At that point in the day, I didn’t even care what it was. From what I could figure it was meat and kimchi. It filled the hole, and that was all I could ask for.

When most people think about Mongolian food, they immediately think of the Mongolian barbecue. My first experience with this type of restaurant was at Mongo’s in Winnipeg, but I’ll admit, as tasty as it is, it does wicked things to my guts. While I was in Mongolia, someone recommended BD’s Mongolian Barbecue, and this was one meal that was tasty and left my guts only predictably unhappy. We went twice to eat there.





Like I said, we went twice:


Still at this point, I was really telling myself that I enjoyed the food. The Mongolian barbecue was tasty enough, and it was leaps and bounds above the grub we’d been eating during our home-stays, but it still didn’t blow me away.

It wasn’t until our final night in Mongolia that we went out for a farewell dinner as a group with our guide and some of his friends that my taste buds really had a party.



Oh wait, I know why I was hosting an Academy Awards after party in my mouth that night. I was eating Indian food

Sorry Mongolia.


I would like to say that I understand people were feeding us without having access to running water and often, they were lucky to have electricity. I get that. I also emphasize that at no point did I complain about the food, and some of it was, in fact, okay. I know I was lucky to be eating, so for that I’m thankful. This just doesn’t change that the food wasn’t good, and that’s all I’m saying.

Whenever I talk to other people who have been to Mongolia, they often say that the food was not good. Fellow foodie-travel bloggers, if you ever go to Mongolia (or have been) and have a completely different experience with the food, please, PLEASE, tell me about it! I would like to know the folly of my ways.

Mongolia is no Italy, Thailand or Mexico, attracting people who want to chow down and fill their bellies. Food does not seem to be a selling point for Mongolia and does not bring people flooding to the country to binge. It would seem, however, that Mongolia doesn’t need to have good food to be a great place to travel. In looking back, despite all the unimpressive food that crossed my path, Mongolia rapidly became one of the most interesting places I’ve ever visited.

And I can bet you’d feel the same way.

Related Posts

Share This


  1. Sad that you didn’t enjoy the first meals – the photos look great. 🙂
    Glad to read that in the end you were able to find something that satisfied your taste buds

    • Colleen

      Well… I supposed I “enjoyed” them, but only because I told myself to. When I got a taste of that Indian food I was like, “Ooohhhh THIS is what good food is…”

  2. Enjoyed this read, Colleen! And, honestly, even your stories about bad food made me hungry 🙂
    Love your first pic. You look happy 😉

    • Colleen

      I was wondering if anyone would say this made them hungry… whenever I look at other people’s food posts I just salivate.

  3. cubiclethrowdown

    holy smokes. that does not look passable in my books. electricity and running water aside (there are lots of people in the barrios here that don’t have either, and can still turn out some pretty tasty food) is that just the standard of local cuisine? good thing it’s such and interesting and beautiful country otherwise!

    • Colleen

      Well… exactly… I know there are people all over the world with very little who crank out tasty dishes nonstop. So… I’m not sure what it is with Mongolia, but from my experience this was the standard. Still, I’d love to go back! I might just pack some sandwiches for myself before I go. 😉

  4. Haha I was just wondering to myself why I haven’t visited Mongolia since I’ve been in Korea… but food is one of my biggest joys in life and now I’m not so disappointed. Ketchup on noodles? That’s a nightmare, right there. Condiments are not my friend.

    Thanks for the heads up, I will also pack sandwiches before any trips to Mongolia! I’m glad you ended the trip on a nice note with the Indian food. You can never go wrong with Indian food. 🙂

    • Colleen

      Yeah, it’s definitely not a place to go for food… but I do wonder if I was just unlucky. I’ve hear mostly bad or indifferent things about the food there, but one never knows if it’s a matter of luck! It’s still a great country to visit – hopefully you will make it there one day!

  5. Zhu

    The dumpling look good. The rest… okay. To be honest, I would have probably eaten it but with a “meh” like you. I’m not a huge fan of meat unless it’s very well prepared and cooked. And the mix on these plates look a bit off. And ketchup on noodles? Er… no.

    Australia is a country where I didn’t enjoy the food much. There was a lot of junk food and it was very expensive for what it was (junk food!). Fortunately, there was ethnic food to save the day. And in Latin America, I must admit I did get sick of the usual rice+chicken+beans plate even though there was nothing wrong with it!

    • Colleen

      Isn’t that the most disappointing thing… when you spend a lot and aren’t happy with what you’ve got. I sort of found that in Russia too… it wasn’t cheap to eat and it wasn’t very good either. Maybe just bad luck, who knows.

  6. Real yum! I know this feeling when you get your food, it looks kinda nice and tasty but you have no idea what it is. You ask the locals and they speak some weird language you don’t understand hahaha. I loved the Tibetan dumplings, but they were much bigger than Mongolian. The food looks very healthy actually, much healthier than Chinese. Plenty of salad – I love it!

    • Colleen

      Actually, I probably could have had more salad. I eat LOTS of vegetables every day, and all that rice and pasta didn’t cut it for me. I was happy with the beer, however. 😉

  7. I love this post. You’re so honest and thoughtful, and I appreciated your last few paragraphs where you mention that you didn’t complain about the food and you recognize the effort that went into preparing it. I always try to write in a way that is respectful of the local culture and the context, and I think you’ve done that beautifully, while still giving an accurate and irreverent account of Mongolian food. Plus, I never manage to photograph all of my food, so I’m impressed by how thorough you were!

    • Colleen

      Thank you so much. That means so much coming from you – I love your writing!
      It is such a fine line between honesty and rude/disrespectful. I think an honest recount of an experience is the most valuable kind and I never intend to offend. I just try to see an experience as it is. (“It is what it is.”)

  8. I LOOOOOOOOL’d all over this post.

  9. Beer is always good and it fills you up when the food is not so good. Don’t remember eating a lot of yucky things in Mongolia! At our gercamp the food was quite okay. Or maybe my standards were low. Either way, I had some good meals.

    • Colleen

      I think maybe I kept my standards pretty low too. I’m glad you had a positive experience with the food there!

  10. I thought that was really interesting about the guide’s mention of stress to the animal equalling stress in the people. Makes good sense to me. Unfortunately very sad way of putting an animal down. :/ Its hard not to judge a situation like this. And to accept it is the way of the people.

    • Colleen

      I agree with everything you’ve said. Completely. Thanks for a thoughtful comment. 🙂


  1. Good Food. - Colleen Brynn Travels - […] was reminded of some of the more memorable meals I had during my summer travels around the world. Unlike the…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *