Mongolian Hordes of Baby Corn

For some reason, whenever we go to a Mongolian restaurant, I end up eating baby corn. I don't particularly like baby corn, but that is the price one pays for good Mongolian grill. For those unfamiliar with Mongolian grill, which probably resembles the authentic cusine of Mongolia about as much as my cats resemble a rabid puma, you fill a bowl from a salad bar of raw meats and vegetables and concoct a sauce, then a fleet of cooks stir-fry your selection on a circular grill about 6 feet in diameter, alongside a dozen or so other meals. This setup, while making for a great show and some great stir fry, means that tidbits sometimes migrate into your dinner from neighboring piles. For me, that tidbit always seems to be baby corn. Without fail, at least one bit of baby corn always winds up in my dinner when we go for Mongolian.

When we stopped at Blue Pacific Grill tonight on the way home from the comic con, we thought we might finally have baby corn-free stir fry. We arrived right as the restaurant opened at 5 p.m. We were the only people in the place who were not on the payroll. We were first in line at the ingredient bar and avoided baby corn like it was carrying Ebola. Our two dinners were the only thing on the grill. Somehow, we wound up with more baby corn than ever in our dinners. I can only conclude that the baby corn sprouts directly from the grill surface under my pineapple-sweet pepper-seafood teriyaki.