Mongolian Stir Fry FTW.

I know, I know. "FTW" was cool for about 34 seconds three years ago. But, gosh. I can't think of another way to abbreviate the way I feel about the increasing popularity of Mongolian stir fry restaurants (and frozen yogurt chains, but that's another blog). Mongolian stir fry is a win-win situation; there is something for everyone and it can be as healthy (or as diet-disastrous) as you choose.

If you've not been lucky enough to visit one of the many Mongolian stir fry restaurants which seem to be popping up all over the map, like Genghis Grill or Kublai Khan, here's a run down of dining events:

You arrive. You're seated. Your server takes your drink and/or appetizer orders. (What? This sounds just like any other dine-in experience, you say? Just wait. I'm about to blow your mind.)

You get an empty bowl. Bon appitite! ...Okay, or not. For to every empty bowl in the land of Mongolian stir fry is an endless buffet of raw food... chicken, beef, pork, seafood of all sorts and stinky kinds (nope; I don't like it), sausages; the possibilities are endless. There are seasonings for your meats, from the spicy to the sweet and the tart and tangy. Then there are the veggies. Miles and miles (or a few feet) of veggies. Broccoli, carrots, squash... onions, bean sprouts, spinach... I could fill up a whole blog listing veggies from the buffet. The point of these endless meats and veggies is to fill that empty bowl that the smiling server just gave you.

This is why Mongolian food is all about you. You decide what goes in the bowl. You decide if you want to go carnivorous, like David usually does, or if you want to keep it vegetarian, like my sister, or if you like a nice, dainty mix of protein and fiber, like I (generally) do.

At the end of the raw food buffet, you'll find caldrons of sauces and syrups waiting to be taste tested. I  highly recommend tasting them all; sometimes those names are deceiving! When you've settled on a sauce, simply spoon it into a sauce bowl (as provided) and voila! You're half way to a customized meal with zero cooking effort on your part and where the dishes are complimentary and taken care of.

At this point, you've got a whopping bowl full of raw stuff. Dig in? Not quite. There is someone just dying to cook it all up for you just a few feet away. Leave it with the chef-- he'll ask you what kind of starch you want (white rice, brown rice, fried rice, noodles...) --and he'll do the rest!

Give it 10 or 15 minutes. Like Santa on Christmas, your server will appear with your steaming-hot, cooked-to-order bowl of whatever goodness you selected. Ohhhhhhhh, it's good.

I could probably eat Mongolian every single day.

That's a scary thought... Cheers!