There’s no better antidote to a cold Beijing winter evening than a steaming spicy lamb hotpot in a raucous and crowded restaurant. Families and colleagues celebrating the impending arrival of the lunar new year weave life and color into the atmosphere, as do a couple of guys loudly toasting each other with glasses of baijiu (white spirit) on the next table.
This is no synthetic “experience” manufactured by some restaurant or retail marketing guru. It’s visceral and spontaneous. Its authenticity is built on time-tested traditions and rituals rather than ephemeral data-generated insights aimed at satisfying the relentless quest for novelty of the influencer crowd.
While the most fashionable and exclusive restaurants rise and fall in line with sudden changes in popular tastes, it will long endure by refusing to cater to the hottest new trends and sticking to what it does best – serving fresh and tasty food grown and raised on the fabled Mongolian grasslands and letting their customers get on with the serious business of enjoying it.