7 Anglesey Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2
www.mongolianbbq.ie
I wonder if there's a Mongolian Barbecue in every capital city in the world. Apart from Genghis Khan, it seems to be about the only export of note in the last 800 years or so, the fermented yak's milk not having done so well and lost market share to Baileys somewhat. Although I have visited a few, Suzanne tells me every time we walk through Temple Bar that she has never been to a Mongolian, but always wanted to. The last time I was here was with Barbara and her daughter, Rachel. This seven-year-old was queueing to make up a bowl of food, when I heard her tell a nearby gang of tourists: "You know he's not my Daddy - he's just my mammy's friend". After that, how could I not love this place? To mark Suzanne and Aoife's return from the trip round Thailand, Australia and New Zealand, I didn't have to think twice, and organised that we meet in Anglesey Street for dinner.
On another beautiful evening in the first week of summer, where we haven't seen rain for weeks, I walked into town - two feet being quicker than getting stuck in the traffic that snarls and clogs the roads of Dublin, regardless of the season. Aoife and Suzanne were already seated by the time I arrived and, cheekily enough, had already started eating. I guess that's not as bad as it sounds. The whole ethos of the restaurant is that you serve yourself, when you like and as often as you like, and the wobbles in the cycles will eventually even out between all the people at your table.
We decided to meet just before 18:30, at which time the prices go up. Perhaps the array of food expands too: I remember in former times that the barbecue offered fish, prawns and turkey - all of which were absent this time. The system now works like this: you can reach for the salad bar at any time, and fill up on lettuce, cherry tomatoes, chickpeas, peppers and dressing. Or you can skip the Mongo-Lite and go straight for the full Monty. You select firstly from a metal table holding sunken containers of beef, pork, and chicken; you top up your plastic bowl with your choice of tomatoes, peppers, onions, leeks, mushrooms, tofu, seeds, carrots, kidney beans, corn and pineapple. Then it's over to the herbs and spice jars: cayenne pepper, cumin, coriander, chilli, ginger, Cajun Spice and Chinese Five Spice (along with the traditional salt and pepper). Finally you drown your raw food with sauce - let's see what I can remember here: Thai sweet chilli; lemon; wine; honey and ginger; soy; tikka massala ... probably another four or so more. I think you get the idea: the fun is concocting your own recipe at each stage, and varying your culinary skills with each iteration. Once the bowl is full, you pass it to a guy at a large, semi-circular metal sheet who proceeds to cook it for you, keeping everyone's food separate and fully cooked with the use of what looks like giant black chopsticks. Poor guy must be almost roasted himself: the heat coming from the barbecue would be unbearable up that close and for that long.
The food is given back to you in china bowls sporting the restaurant logo - and they're very attractive. I remember, once, a waitress telling me that an American man once ate seventeen bowlfuls. We managed four each, along with two bowls of rice for the girls and some flatbreads for me. I also satisfied a craving for Diet Coke: perhaps I'm hanging out with Frits too much. Then, although we saw exquisite desserts pass by to another table - we think it was Death by Chocolate - we were more concerned about obesity by chocolate, so we decided to pass, and ordered tea and coffee instead.
Suzie loved this restaurant - she wants to give it a 5. Aoife seemed slightly less enamoured of it - but she'd been many times before, so it was nothing novel for her. I like it a lot - and they still give out the Swizzels-Matlow Refreshers with the bill, which I think should be made mandatory in every restaurant. I'd suggest, however, that they replan their table layout - there was hardly room for people to squeeze between chairs once the restaurant began to crowd up, and frankly it's annoying. But if you manage to get a spot where you don't back onto the aisle, you'll enjoy this restaurant enormously.
_________________
The Damage (EUR)
Total 68.72
_________________
The Score
4.0 Food and Drink
4.0 Service
4.0 Décor
4.0 Ambience
4.5 Value
4.0 Overall Rating
www.mongolianbbq.ie
I wonder if there's a Mongolian Barbecue in every capital city in the world. Apart from Genghis Khan, it seems to be about the only export of note in the last 800 years or so, the fermented yak's milk not having done so well and lost market share to Baileys somewhat. Although I have visited a few, Suzanne tells me every time we walk through Temple Bar that she has never been to a Mongolian, but always wanted to. The last time I was here was with Barbara and her daughter, Rachel. This seven-year-old was queueing to make up a bowl of food, when I heard her tell a nearby gang of tourists: "You know he's not my Daddy - he's just my mammy's friend". After that, how could I not love this place? To mark Suzanne and Aoife's return from the trip round Thailand, Australia and New Zealand, I didn't have to think twice, and organised that we meet in Anglesey Street for dinner.
On another beautiful evening in the first week of summer, where we haven't seen rain for weeks, I walked into town - two feet being quicker than getting stuck in the traffic that snarls and clogs the roads of Dublin, regardless of the season. Aoife and Suzanne were already seated by the time I arrived and, cheekily enough, had already started eating. I guess that's not as bad as it sounds. The whole ethos of the restaurant is that you serve yourself, when you like and as often as you like, and the wobbles in the cycles will eventually even out between all the people at your table.
We decided to meet just before 18:30, at which time the prices go up. Perhaps the array of food expands too: I remember in former times that the barbecue offered fish, prawns and turkey - all of which were absent this time. The system now works like this: you can reach for the salad bar at any time, and fill up on lettuce, cherry tomatoes, chickpeas, peppers and dressing. Or you can skip the Mongo-Lite and go straight for the full Monty. You select firstly from a metal table holding sunken containers of beef, pork, and chicken; you top up your plastic bowl with your choice of tomatoes, peppers, onions, leeks, mushrooms, tofu, seeds, carrots, kidney beans, corn and pineapple. Then it's over to the herbs and spice jars: cayenne pepper, cumin, coriander, chilli, ginger, Cajun Spice and Chinese Five Spice (along with the traditional salt and pepper). Finally you drown your raw food with sauce - let's see what I can remember here: Thai sweet chilli; lemon; wine; honey and ginger; soy; tikka massala ... probably another four or so more. I think you get the idea: the fun is concocting your own recipe at each stage, and varying your culinary skills with each iteration. Once the bowl is full, you pass it to a guy at a large, semi-circular metal sheet who proceeds to cook it for you, keeping everyone's food separate and fully cooked with the use of what looks like giant black chopsticks. Poor guy must be almost roasted himself: the heat coming from the barbecue would be unbearable up that close and for that long.
The food is given back to you in china bowls sporting the restaurant logo - and they're very attractive. I remember, once, a waitress telling me that an American man once ate seventeen bowlfuls. We managed four each, along with two bowls of rice for the girls and some flatbreads for me. I also satisfied a craving for Diet Coke: perhaps I'm hanging out with Frits too much. Then, although we saw exquisite desserts pass by to another table - we think it was Death by Chocolate - we were more concerned about obesity by chocolate, so we decided to pass, and ordered tea and coffee instead.
Suzie loved this restaurant - she wants to give it a 5. Aoife seemed slightly less enamoured of it - but she'd been many times before, so it was nothing novel for her. I like it a lot - and they still give out the Swizzels-Matlow Refreshers with the bill, which I think should be made mandatory in every restaurant. I'd suggest, however, that they replan their table layout - there was hardly room for people to squeeze between chairs once the restaurant began to crowd up, and frankly it's annoying. But if you manage to get a spot where you don't back onto the aisle, you'll enjoy this restaurant enormously.
_________________
The Damage (EUR)
- 50.97 Early Bird Buffet, including salad and rice (16.99*3)
- 2.50 Flatbreads (4)
- 2.00 Diet Coke (*1)
- 5.00 Lattes (2.50*2)
- 2.00 Peppermint Tea (*1)
Total 68.72
_________________
The Score
4.0 Food and Drink
4.0 Service
4.0 Décor
4.0 Ambience
4.5 Value
4.0 Overall Rating
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