As far as communal dining experience goes, nothing seems to beat the famed Chinese Hot Pot also known as Firepot, Chinese Steamboat or Chinese Fondue. 

It is a combined cooking/dining experience in which everyone on table takes part. By the time someone ventures for Hot Pot, they want to cook their own food and eat it. The food consists of different raw meats, sea food, noodles, and dumplings.

Diners converge around the cooking pot, pick and dip pieces of the raw food into the simmering soup, and scoop the food out onto plates, ready to eat.

Typically, a Hot Pot experience may drag on for a few hours, because the food is cooked and eaten in small portions at a time. Still, this style of dining places emphasis on the communal aspect of a fun meal while enjoying the company of all at table.

At a recent outing at Alink, a Chinese Restaurant in Kimihurura, while combing the extensive menu for some cheaper options, Hot Pot crossed my eyes.

Edward Yin, the owner, said that Hot Pot is a Chinese tradition that dates back thousands of years. I had heard of live cooking before, but only the Japanese-inspired Tepanyaki, in which a propane-heated flat surface grill is used to cook food right in front of guests.

Though both Tepanyaki and Hot Pot are forms of live cooking, the difference between the two lies in who actually does the cooking: In Tepanyaki, it is the chef’s time to showcase his cooking expertise, while in Hot Pot it’s the exact opposite — a do-it-yourself affair, where the wait staff generally keep their distance and leave diners to their own devices.

I did not partake of the Hot Pot on that first day when I spotted it on the menu, because by its very nature, it requires a crowd for it to live to its true billing as a "family” or "communal” meal.

Yin said that ideally the quorum should be about four people. However, the number should not swell much more than this, as you would end up with many friendly clashes of cutlery as everyone tries to get a piece.

We agreed to instead arrange a weekend lunch seating. When I arrived shortly after noon, there was a burst of activity as the wait staff whizzed past with the food. Platters upon platters of uncooked meats, and a variety of fresh vegetables slowly filled up the table. In the middle of the table was the Hot Pot – a gas powered metallic pot slowly simmering with soup laced with an assortment of spices.

The wait staff then started to move the platters of raw food from an adjacent table and lining them neatly around the hot pot. And the variety of food on offer here was simply breath-taking: there were meats, and lots of fresh Chinese vegetables straight from the garden: things like Green onions, Cilantro (Chinese parsley), Bok choy, Chinese cabbage, and Gai Lan (Chinese Broccoli).

When cooking got underway, I was surprised to see my host go for the Irish potatoes first, which with the aid of a pair of chop sticks, he dipped into the simmering pot before moving on to other foods. This is because of all the food on table, it is the Irish that would take the longest to get ready.

Unlike the meat that is chopped down to paper-thin pieces, hence easy boiling, the Irish has to be cut to chunky pieces so it does not disintegrate under the intense heat.

Apparently, chopping the meats down to fine pieces arose out of the need to conserve fuel, forests being a scarce commodity in China. The smaller the pieces, the faster the meat would cook, hence saving fuel.

Similarly, the cooking method is synonymous with adaptability and flexibility, in that a variety of "unusual” vegetables and spices are always called upon.

Another beauty about the Hot Pot is that it comes partitioned into two sections, one for spicy and the other for non-spicy food, making it the ideal meal for a large group.

Everybody on table including the youngest –a six year old took to the chopsticks, first to scoop the food and dip it into the pot, then to fish it out, before eating it. Not wanting to miss out on this maiden adventure, I simply grabbed the nearest fork, knife, spoon and a ladle, and went to "work”.

My hosts kept encouraging me to look out for what I wanted to eat, and not to go the band wagon way. Only problem is that I didn’t have a lot of independent choices to make, being new to most of the Chinese vegetables on offer. Also, there was that old, irrational fear for Asian food to be "difficult” or "too spicy”.

While the men at table tried to leave me to my own devices, seated next to me, and that ended up as my unofficial culinary guide. Realizing there was a total language barrier between me and her, the granny simply took to pointing at dishes and flashing a huge smile at me, a sign that it was worth the trying.

There were a variety of side dishes and dipping sauces on offer chilli sauce, sesame oil, vinegar, pepper, mustard, and spring onions for the dipping sauces.

Made from soy milk, and close in taste and appearance to cheese cake, tofu is reputed for its abundance of minerals and protein, and proved one of my favorite dipping sauces.

An hour into the experience, it suddenly occurred to me that I could not place just how much food I’d consumed thus far, prompting me to raise the query with my hosts.

Over-eating on the Hot Pot is a real possibility, yes, but my hosts assured me it was okay, since the food is heavily vegetarian-leaning. In other words, over-indulging on these fresh vegetables would be less risky than piling up on lots of solid food.

In China, I was further told, the Hot Pot captures the imagination of both young and old. "Most small restaurants in China last two-three years before they shut down or change ownership, but not with hot pot restaurants”, Yin said.