A Donar Kebab, when offered, is a brief indulgence gratefully chomped through when on my travels. They’re not easy to track down at home and remind me of my youth for a brief moment. Yup, we all chase long lost delicious memories.
The pitta bread holding the delicious contents of the sliced spicy lamb complimented by the crispy fresh green and oniony salad plus seasoning begs my hands to bring it to my lips and bite! Munch, munch, lovely, I’m transported into a brief trance by the overflowing tastes coursing around the mouth, whipped around by my tongue and then yes, swallow. Another bite and the meat and sharp salad rarely disappoint. What a delight.
So how is it that this pleasure is so rare? Because so often the dammed pitta bread cannot possibly hold the overspilling heavenly tasty contents. Because when a pitta bread is wildly slashed, the sliced meat stabbed into the bottom of the doughy envelope and topped with far too much crunchy salad with a crowning dribble of samurai sauce the final effect is a delicious morass impenetrable to the polite diner. Guess what, you then need a polystyrene box to hold the by now gloopy contents. Bring on the burger and forget a meal reminiscent of magical warm lands bursting with history and mystery.
Last night’s fight to open the much anticipated box, brought in from somewhere near Earl’s Court was a small effort in the world of the bomb disposal team. Carefully balancing and peeling the box open to avoid spilling the beetroot coloured sauce splodged over a mass of salad and meat slices protruding from a sad, butchered and by now folded, soggy pitta bread was less than successful. The Kebab, the very much looked forward to much munch turned into my battle of the trough.
Only because I had the polystyrene box did I manage to pick and nibble through what could have been a thing of beauty. The bread couldn’t do it’s job and the sauce covered table, clothes and face with a pinkness not unlike my blusher. I don’t mind eating like a peasant from time to time, as they’d say, fingers, licking, dripping and wiping but there was no bucolic or desert charm to this.
Why not as the classic Cornish Pasty, employ and understand the pitta bread function as the envelope, plate and lunchbox.
Seems quite simple and on top of that, no more polystyrene junk, less overheads and more pleasure for the customer. A paper bag and napkin, ahhh. Yes it’s nice to see what the bread is going to offer as prize. A peek of salad and dribble of sauce promising the tasty sliced meat is enough. The on the hoof gourmet’s Open Sesame. The anticipation creates the appetite and the overflow of the inconsiderately stuffed-in pile does exactly the opposite.
A smidgen more care for the Kebab and dressing it elegantly and functionally so we can all taste the wonderful hot offering brings on the promise of more delicious spicy munchy love.