This is the wild northern grassland where Mongolian ponies bearing the sons and grandsons of the Great Khan had thundered on the warpath. It's a lot quieter these days and full of tasty surprises, as Pauline D. Loh discovers at the dinning table.

It would be very hard to tempt me with lamb, I told myself at the end of six days in Inner Mongolia. As delicious as the lamb here was, I had just about reached my quota for the month, maybe the year. And then Chef Luo Gang came in bearing a platter of lamb breast.

This is the best part of the animal reserved only for special guests. The chef said as he whipped out a sharp little knife with a gleaming bone handle. He then proceeded to shave little slivers of white from the breastbone, and carefully placed them on my plate.