About shashlik, point of view, and dragons. An interview with Academician D.A. Baimukanov.

PIONERPRODUKT.by continues its series of interviews with the eminent Kazakhstani scientist Dastanbek Asylbekovich Baimukanov , recorded by his younger brother, Syzdyk Asylbekovich Baimukanov.
The first interview is titled: "A Story of Shepherds, Sheep, and Freedom .
" The second interview is titled: " On Beshbarmak, Money, MEAT, Traditions, Genetics, and Selective Breeding."
We remind you that numerous articles on animal husbandry by Dastanbek Asylbekovich Baimukanov have been published on our portal.

it so happened that my brother, Dastanbek Asylbekovich Baimukanov, and I spent our youth in southern Kazakhstan. So, after beshbarmak, our second favorite dish, of course, was "proper" pilaf—the kind cooked with sheep's tail fat, not vegetable fat, and served with shashlik instead of cold or hot appetizers. My brother has been involved in livestock breeding and selection for almost 40 years ( I've written about him and beshbarmak before , by the way ).

A bowl of strong green tea stood next to us, its steam mingling with the smoke from the grill, creating an invisible yet tangible curtain between our table and the outside world.
Sooner or later, no matter what the Kazakhs are talking about, the conversation always turns to meat. And so, during one of these home-cooked feasts (usually these "heavy" dishes are served at lunch), as we were slurping down a fragrant pilaf with that very same shashlik, I decided to "lighten" this "heavy" meal with light conversation, a sure-fire topic, like football for the English, and ask the leading family expert a very meaty question:

"Dastanbek, what kind of shashlik is considered the most delicious, and what, in your opinion, is the secret to the best marinade?"
My brother, with his characteristic composure (and obviously enjoying every bite), answered like a true scholar—with a question for a question. This technique is a deadly double-whammy: first, it clarifies the essence of the problem, and second, it directs the other person's thoughts in the right direction:
"Did you know that the secret to the most delicious shashlik lies in its main ingredient? What do you think it is?"

"It's probably the right marinade!" I quickly retorted, then fired off, like a machine gun: "Well, there's also a grill, a skewer, the right coals, and a fat lamb that, like in the movies, weighs more than a hundred kilograms!" Basically, I hit all the right spots at once to be sure I hit the mark.

My answer seemed to amuse him. My brother shook his HEAD with a smile.
"You're a multi-faceted fellow." This year, I learned a very important and sensitive lesson from a respected colleague of mine, whom I consider a teacher and a worthy example—an Academician of the first rank. Despite his venerable age, he remains highly productive in his research and doesn't rest on the laurels of his past achievements. A chemist by profession, he has the highest citation index of all Kazakhstani scientists. He has not only achieved success in science but also proven himself a wise leader, a good friend, and a mentor. So, he taught me this important lesson: you can't have it both ways. After all, there is only one truth.

"Exactly. As our Tole bi (the ruler of Tashkent, who raised Ablai Khan, who saved the Kazakhs from the Dzungar invasion in the 18th century) used to say: 'Always call white white and black black,'" I added. "After all, the ability to accept reality as it is—that is, to separate the candy from the wrapper—is the main sign of a person's maturity and the key quality of a nomad. I remembered a good nomadic life hack: If something goes wrong in life, don't look for someone to blame. First, ask yourself: 'What is this situation? What is it trying to teach me?' And only then ask: 'Why?' It's like in science: first, you formulate the conditions of the problem correctly, and only then look for solutions." The true fruit of wisdom is a deep understanding that always seeks the root cause, not justifications. This is the only way to survive in the harsh steppe, where you're constantly exposed to all winds, enemies, and adversity. Understanding that all life's trials are no accident is a quest through which we comprehend the wisdom of the Almighty. Only by overcoming obstacles do we become stronger, wiser, and learn to soar toward our dreams. True, we realize this, as in sports, not during rigorous training, a period of sweat, bloody blisters, and tears, but some time later, on the podium, during the awards ceremony.
"Now do you understand how I see things?" he concluded, skewering another piece of juicy shashlik. "The main secret of delicious shashlik is the meat of that very young lamb, no more than five months old. This is the meat of a happy, innocent youth, before it experiences the disappointments of first love and other hormonal storms." If you leave it for even a month, the meat will acquire an elusive, but, believe me, quite noticeable, note of universal sadness and worldly cynicism, and along with them, it will lose its tenderness and the aroma of innocence. It should have been grazing in lush, pristine meadows, not standing in a pen. The taste of shashlik is, above all, the taste of meat, the taste of a good mood, the taste of the grasses on which it grazed.

"Wait, wait, Dastanbek, what about the marinade? You say there's only one truth, but that's practically blasphemy for shashlik!
" "It doesn't need any marinade!" my brother snapped, his voice ringing with absolute truth. "It's enough to season it like pilaf: with SALT, cumin, and pepper. That's why pilaf and shashlik have complemented each other since ancient times and been served together. And it has nothing to do with the grill and skewers. For this kind of meat, simple fresh branches are enough instead of a skewer. Their juices, while the meat is grilling, will impart a unique aroma. But all these complex marinades and ingenious devices are designed to conceal the flaws of the main product—the meat."
He continued, enthusiastically: "It's like Italian or Japanese cuisine, where every ingredient is a superior product in itself, requiring no complex sauces or seasonings." Initially, all these seasonings and sauces were born not out of luxury, but out of necessity, and became the basis of military field cuisine. During campaigns and sieges, when cooks had to make do with meager supplies, it was spices that helped transform coarse, bland food into a dish worthy of kings. They concealed flaws, softened the flavor, and made the impossible possible—transformed the simple into the complex.
Our ancestors, beginning with the Huns, Polovtsians, and warriors of the Golden Horde, understood this axiom perfectly. Mobility is the main strategic advantage. That's why they didn't like to complicate their cuisine and didn't burden themselves with a supply train. As a rule, they traveled on several horses, taking with them a sack of salt, a sack of dried meat, and kurt (dried(Curd cheese with salt). And if food was impossible to find, one of the three horses... simply changed jobs. This way, they could endure up to six months of cold marching. Warfare in winter was a strategic decision, as rivers and lakes froze, removing obstacles in the path of the invincible cavalry. Although winter marches required more energy and, consequently, food, this was more than offset by the strategic advantage. And, most importantly, winter campaigns did not interfere with the main period of growth and development—the spring departure for the main nomadic camp in the steppe, the jailau.

My brother paused, then added with an ironic smile:
“So it turns out: you’re asking about shashlik, but the conversation turned to how to distinguish real meat from meat that needs to be ‘saved’ with a marinade. And ultimately, it’s like you said about our ancestors’ way of perceiving.”Reality as it is, and to constantly remain positive, learning life's lessons, and uncovering the mysteries of existence. And I'm glad that now, thanks to the internet and resources like farmer.ru , our farmers have the opportunity to embrace this spirit of nomadic wisdom, see the best practices of their peers, and gain a wealth of invaluable life hacks, without the bitter experience of mistakes. And if you want to explore the scientific foundation, there are also primary sources that will be useful to specialized specialists (agronomists, veterinarians, and zootechnicians). This means that both the owner and their team have a vision of where to go and how to achieve it. This approach also makes our work as scientists easier. Instead of boring conferences, where luminaries of science speak in a bastard language of scientific terms that only they understand, while farmers sleep peacefully to the gentle trill, you get a lively, clear, and understandable story from a fellow farmer. So the first thing I try to find out when talking to a farmer is where he's sitting... and he continued, smiling, "that is, what resources does he study? It's not for nothing that they say that where you sit significantly changes your perspective."

"But what if we forget about 'sitting down' and get down to business, to 'point of view'? Which approach, finally, is the most effective from a scientific standpoint? That is, which method will bring the most benefit to animal husbandry?" I abruptly steered the conversation toward practical matters.
"Animal husbandry is no different from other sectors of the national economy, where the cluster approach is considered the gold standard," my brother replied, sipping green tea with mint, honey, and lemon. "Everything depends on the level of organization and the depth of processing. After all, it's not the smartest or the strongest who win, but the most organized. Throughout human history, with the rare exception of the discovery of new continents, the strength and technical level of the opposing sides have been comparable. The key advantage lay solely in the level of organization. Thus, the legion and advanced scientific achievements in road construction and defensive fortifications became the key factor in the success of the Roman Empire. The great commander Suvorov taught that the main guarantee of victory is the level of organization: both in training and in the mobility of troops. His words, "Learning is light, and ignorance is darkness. Victory is gained not by numbers, but by skill," capture the essence of his philosophy, which is true in both life and business. Through proper preparation, organization, precise movement, reliable supplies, and strict discipline, a force is created that makes victory simply inevitable.

"Now can you explain this to farmers—where to start and when to move on to the next step?" I tried to bring the conversation back down to earth.
"The first level is pasture-based livestock farming. It's best to start with our golden triad: sheep, horses, and camels," my brother began cheerfully. "And it's best to start with purebred Kazakh breeds, proven over centuries. They guarantee high results and are less prone to illness. An integrated approach opens up wider markets and reduces the risk of seasonal decline in demand. Furthermore, with pasture-based farming, animals don't directly compete with each other for feed, but rather help each other in difficult conditions. For example, horses help break up ice and snow, making it easier for camels and sheep to find food, and in the summer, sheep eat poisonous insects that pose a threat to camels and horses. Moreover, camels eat vegetation that sheep and horses don't. Pasture-based livestock farming doesn't require significant investment in feed procurement or farm construction. Breeding farms are being established on the premises of larger farms. Small farmers, by simply purchasing breeding stock, improve their herds and sell them to meat processing plants at competitive prices, which are typically available on larger farms. This means that large farms earn money not only from breeding stock but also from processing. Now is the time for large retail chains, which require a guaranteed supply of high-quality, certified products. They typically purchase all standing stock under long-term contracts. This is a win-win situation for small farmers: by selling their products to a nearby meat processing plant , they typically reduce their delivery costs and typically sell at a higher price than to resellers. It's a win-win situation, where everyone benefits: the consumer receives a high-quality product at a reasonable price, retail chains receive a reliable supply of guaranteed quality, and the large farmer receives double income from both breeding stock sales and processing. A small farmer receives high-yielding animals at a reasonable price and sells their products at a high price without incurring unnecessary logistics costs. As an added bonus, these meat processing plants used to recycle production waste into feed for the furry animals on fur farms, whose pelts were exported . The cluster's main wisdom is simple: you always earn more when you're one level higher and, most importantly, closer to the end consumer. You know how life works, right? The closer you are to the payer, the higher your score! Compare for yourself: selling breeding stock earns you many times more than just meat and MILK.And by upping the ante in processing and packaging, you create additional value. You're literally "jumping" right into their kitchen! It's like with buckwheat: compare its price straight from the field to the same buckwheat packaged in 900-gram bags at the store (even after minus the standard wholesale and retail markup). The difference is enormous. This is the essence of our approach—optimally efficient processing depth to get it to the consumer's table.

"Okay, so what happens next?" I supported our version of the game of CBD.
"And so, after mastering this level of production organization and cooperation at all stages, the second stage begins," my brother continued measuredly. "As a rule, to improve marketability, sheep and horse breeding are focused on fattening. Large farms begin to prepare feed. The simplest kind, without complex vitamin and micronutrient supplements. And here this triad can be supplemented with cattle ( cattle ), preferably beef cattle. During this period, you begin to study and prepare for the production of complex compound feed. In cattle, the best way to run a business is a sensible combination of primary pasture and short-term stall housing before slaughter. For cattle, I would recommend using proven purebred Angus and Hereford cattle for meat. And here the chain of interaction between large breeding farms and small farmers must be improved. Otherwise, the business arithmetic will not work out." Remember how 10-15 years ago, many breeding cattle brought from distant lands died due to a lack of proper care and feed. Our farmers, accustomed to pasture management, were unprepared for a more complex work organization.

"So what's the final stage? What's considered the highest form of labor organization in animal husbandry?" I urged my brother impatiently.
"The third stage, or the pinnacle of production, is poultry farming, and it's best not to enter that part yet," Dastanbek snapped categorically. "Firstly, it's a very capital-intensive business , highly competitive and highly dependent on grain prices. Secondly, it requires a very high production culture, which is very challenging for our pasture-based farming mentality. And thirdly, and most importantly, you'll be constantly dependent on foreign supplies of laying hens and broiler eggs. Only a few countries in the world possess such a gene pool, and they don't EXPORT this part. All our poultry farms receive are crossbreeds, that is, highly productive hybrids of purebred animals that don't pass on these qualities to their offspring. Plus, you'll be constantly dependent on imported expensive feed additives and medications. Finally, the icing on the cake: when kept indoors, the feed supply and output of products and waste must be strictly adhered to, and these flows must not intersect. This also increases the risk of losses due to infections, such as avian influenza , when the entire population in a given area, including several poultry farms, is destroyed. As a rule, the meat of such animals is significantly inferior in taste to free-range products. Many pet lovers, such as cats and dogs, do not recommend feeding poultry and cattle due to the risk of harmful additives and antibiotics , but rather recommend using meat from free-range sheep and other animals.

"Could you explain crossbreeding in more detail, using other examples, and which meat is considered the most nutritious of our three?" I asked, trying to clarify the situation.
"Let's start with crossbreeding," he continued. "Through hybridization, you get offspring that significantly surpass their parents in the desired productivity area. For example, with camels, with the right crossbreeding of one-humped and two-humped camels of certain breeds, you get a camel with a milk production of up to 3,500 liters per year, which is twice as much as the parents. But these qualities are not passed on to the offspring. The same is true for birds: all the meat we eat and all the eggs we consume are the products of those very same hybrids, or crossbreeds, which cannot pass on their qualities to their offspring. And obtaining purebred breeding stock in poultry farming and the crossbreeding scheme for producing highly productive hybrids is as difficult as the recipe for famous drinks. When it comes to horses and camels, the majority of the herd (70-80%) on farms should be purebred animals. Hybrids are used for milk or meat production. However, purebred Bactrian camels are more resistant to disease, and surpass hybrids in meat and wool yield, while milk yield is richer and more nutritious . This ultimately makes relying on hybrids unwise. Kazakhs have been especially fortunate with camels. Our breeds hold the record for wool, meat, and milk yield among all known breeds. This is the priceless legacy of our ancestors—the best livestock breeders of all time. After all, it takes centuries of painstaking work to develop a breed that will pass on its qualities to its offspring. It's no wonder our scientists are invited as experts to countries near and far.

"Well, as for the healthiest meat—in the East, dragon meat has always been considered..." my brother stated calmly.
"What dragons?" I didn't understand.
"The ones our ancestors used to fly across the vast expanses of the steppe," my brother smiled. "Did you know that in Southeast Asia, camels are called dragons, and their humps are folded wings. Camel meat is one of the most amazing in the world. It's lean and nutritious, because all the camel's fat is concentrated in the humps, not in the muscles, like in other animals. Thanks to this, it contains less cholesterol, but remains rich in protein, iron, and B vitamins. It tastes like beef or horse meat, only with its characteristic natural purity and richness. Its organism is unique, even at the cellular level. Camel red blood cells are oval-shaped—an extremely rare occurrence among mammals. Only camels and their closest relatives in the camel family—llamas and alpacas—have them. This form allows blood to circulate freely even in the face of severe dehydration and helps the animal recover quickly after long journeys exposed to sun and wind. Interestingly, birds also have a similar form of red blood cells, but only their cells retain nuclei—after all, birds are born to fly. The camel, like a dragon with its wings folded into its humps, soars across the vast expanses of the earth—free, proud, and unchanged for millions of years. Like birds in the sky, camels on the ground are creatures of balance: light-hearted yet strong-bodied. And perhaps this is why their meat carries the energy of resilience and inner freedom, accumulated over centuries of travel through steppes, deserts, passes, winds, and time.

"Why is camel meat, with such unique properties, cheaper than all other types of red meat, almost as cheap as saiga meat?" I wondered.
"Today, camel meat is perhaps the most affordable of all types of red meat. It's cheaper than horse meat, beef, and lamb. But the quality isn't the reason—we simply haven't yet revived the culture of its consumption. In Soviet times, camels were considered 'exotic,' and in just a few decades, their population dwindled from one and a half million to just 120,000," my brother said regretfully. "But our ancestors knew the true value of a camel. Two horses or forty rams were exchanged for one. It was a measure of wealth, a symbol of endurance and patience. Its meat was prized for its healing properties—light, nutritious, restorative after long journeys and trials. And now, centuries later, history has come full circle. Meat that was once worth its weight in gold has become the most accessible and purest product on the market." It seems that this is how it's arranged from above: everything valuable returns when its time comes. While this opportunity is before us, it's worth taking advantage of it—trying, remembering, and rediscovering this forgotten taste. The taste of strength, resilience, and inner freedom that a person feels not with their mind, but with their heart.

"And what benefit do you, scientists , bring to farmers?" I asked, turning the conversation on its head.
"Scientists are the keepers of knowledge... or, as the youth say, the purveyors of life hacks. They help us recall the lost wisdom of our ancestors, only now through the prism of scientific and technological advances," I continued, unfazed. "We're essentially doing the same thing as our ancestors, we're just improving efficiency. I'd like to repeat Suvorov's words: 'Learning is light, and ignorance is darkness. Victory is won not by numbers, but by skill.' In other words, our goal is to achieve the best possible result with the least amount of effort, without unnecessary fuss or wasted resources."

And then I caught the thread and said,
"Our ancestors spoke simply and wisely: 'zhümys istep zhatýr'—literally, 'works lying down.' And everything was logical to them: 'Basqaryp zhatýr'—to lead, 'eat'—'zhep zhatýr', 'goes'—'bara zhatýr', 'flies'—'ushyp zhatýr', 'works'—'zhümys istep zhatýr'! It's not for nothing that they say in the army: 'A fool's feet teach him—a smart man will always find a way to make things easier.
' "That's how we do it," my brother chimed in. "Our team includes specialists in all areas—from breeding and veterinary medicine to production technology. We organize the processes within the farm so that everything works efficiently, economically, and without unnecessary running around." And if anyone asks what we're up to now, we'll just say: everything's running like clockwork —precisely, calmly, without fuss. Everyone knows their job, and everything's going as it should. So we can confidently answer: "It's all about the kitchen!" The main thing is to lie down and benefit from it! So, we're fulfilling an ancient dream, remembering Yemelya—he also did everything lying on the stove... and, by the way, he was pretty good at it!
While
my brother laughed at Yemelya, I realized the main irony of this story. We spent the entire lunch talking about meat, dragons, Suvorov, and the cluster approach, but in the end, we came to one simple conclusion: True wisdom, like the perfect shashlik, requires no complications . It doesn't need elaborate marinades to hide flaws, or expensive suits to cover up insecurities. The most wholesome life is one based on pure, natural ingredients. That same "young lamb" that's simply grazed on lush grass and hasn't yet acquired that "cynicism of first love."

We're all searching for the root cause, chasing success clusters, and trying to transform ourselves into cross-country racers to be more productive. But maybe it's time to just stop rushing around. After all, if you know your worth (like a camel worth two horses), and if you know exactly where you're sitting (like a farmer researching the right resources), then your whole life starts to work.

And it is here, in silence and clarity, that true happiness is born—the right perspective on life. And this isn't a reward, but gratitude for every challenge and every lesson. After all, only in this way does the Almighty guide us in the right direction and help us discover all our talents. When you embrace reality like a wise nomad, you understand that every problem is simply a new quest that makes you wiser.

Knowledge is the true key to this efficiency, to this nomadic wisdom. It doesn't add fuss; on the contrary, it cuts out unnecessary movements. You don't waste time fighting the wrong meat, the wrong feed, or the wrong people. You simply act precisely, calmly, and confidently, like Suvorov's regiment. Knowledge allows you to do less and achieve more—to live productively and without unnecessary drama.
In the end, the only thing that truly matters is: do you have enough inner freedom to sometimes allow yourself to simply lie down on the stove and say, "Bärö zhümys іstep zhatýr!"

Author: Syzdyk Asylbekovich Baimukanov.