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The Legend of the Genghis Khan Meatloaf

In the year 1216 a caravan of 500 camels laden with gold, silk and sables was making its way for Otrar, east of the Aral Sea when it was raided, with loss of all life and valuables. This piqued the interest of the great Mongol leader, Genghis Khan, not only for the loss of his possessions, but because it aroused his keen curiosity into the manner of the cultures beyond his domain. Temujin, as Genghis Khan was known, had little intelligence of the lands he had not yet subdued; his GIS technicians had limited access to extra-empire data bases. So Temujin sent his trusted general, Subedei, across the Gobi desert to discover what lay outside his realm.

The rest is history. Using tactics and strategies that presaged 20th Century military thinking, Subedei out thought, outmaneuvered and outfought much larger armies than his, sometimes laying waste to entire towns and depopulating portions of the region from Russia to the Danube.

As a great general once observed, an army moves on its stomach, and no leader knew this better than Subedei, for his army was the most mobile of all. His movements gave him exposure to more food concepts than Duncan Heinz. In Germany he noted how the citizens of Hamburg chopped their beef so fine they could mold it like bread dough; as his legions rounded the Black Sea, a frightened pope sent emissaries bearing his famous Pax Pizzana, with its divinely savory tomato paste and fine ground sausage. Naturally the onion domes of Russian architecture raised Subedei's curiosity about the use of these tangy vegetables to add life to his entree. And he delighted in the mouth feel imparted by the fine blond bean that came from the land once known as Garbanzia. These and other ingredients became incorporated in his greatest military weapon — the meat loaf, which could be cooked in a single day and reheated for several consecutive meals, providing quick, nutritious sustenance for legions on the run. He named this brilliant cuisine for his emperor.

Only the death of Temujin kept Subedei from reaching the Atlantic — good fortune for the meatloaf, which would have been less favorably received if flounder had been included. Returning to attend Temujin's funeral, the Mongol armies abandoned a Europe left in disarray. Having never been defeated, they took the secret of their military victories — and of the Genghis Khan Meatloaf with them.

Not until the early 20th Century were the tactics of Subedei fully appreciated by non-Mongol generals. And it was half a century longer before an Air Force lieutenant, equally mobile in his sports car, and constantly in search of conquest, realized repeatedly cooking from scratch was interfering with his purpose. The solution came to him in a dream, when the muse divulged Subedei's remarkable invention, forgotten for seven centuries. While that young lieutenant proved to be no equal to Subedei in conquest, he was the Mongol warrior's culinary match in reintroducing a meal that conquers hunger, prevents scurvy and sates legions. Once again, the world can enjoy the sumptuous Genghis Khan Meatloaf!