Oh gross.
In the Restaurant section of today's Boston Globe, in a review of a shabu shabu restaurant in Allston, there is a line that reads:
"shabu shabu started in the 13th century, when Genghis Khan's warriors cooked dinner right in their helmets"
Which made me throw up in my mouth a little.
I know what my hat smells like, and I shower everyday.
The idea of eating something cooked in the helmet of a sweaty warrior doesn't appeal to me at all. It's like that time I was watching a travel show on PBS and these intrepid adventurers were in Mongolia or somewhere and they were drinking horse milk mixed with blood out of a skin flask.
Right then and there I decided two things.
1.) Always, always, ALWAYS check for the vegetarian option.
and
2.) If I ever go to Mongolia I will be bringing the biggest bottle of Valium you ever saw. Because I would hate to be rude and refuse the blood & horse milk flask - but I would have to be really really sedated to get it down.
"shabu shabu started in the 13th century, when Genghis Khan's warriors cooked dinner right in their helmets"
Which made me throw up in my mouth a little.
I know what my hat smells like, and I shower everyday.
The idea of eating something cooked in the helmet of a sweaty warrior doesn't appeal to me at all. It's like that time I was watching a travel show on PBS and these intrepid adventurers were in Mongolia or somewhere and they were drinking horse milk mixed with blood out of a skin flask.
Right then and there I decided two things.
1.) Always, always, ALWAYS check for the vegetarian option.
and
2.) If I ever go to Mongolia I will be bringing the biggest bottle of Valium you ever saw. Because I would hate to be rude and refuse the blood & horse milk flask - but I would have to be really really sedated to get it down.
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