A Beef Kebab... Food with near "National Dish" status in AustraliaPhoto courtesy of AliBaba... a great Kebab Shop.
There are few things an Aussie delights in more than a bloody good kebab. If you're a fellow Aussie reading this, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. If not, try and follow along anyway.The kebab, you see, is almost a national dish in Australia, and in the big cities (we only have 5 of those), it enjoys status equal to, if not beyond that of the other great Aussie delicacy, the meat pie. I guess it's one of the rare triumphs of a cultural diversity policy that's seen people come to our great land from just about everywhere on earth. Few readers would know that it's part of our national immigration policy...
IMMIGRATION OFFICER: Where you from?
YOU: [insert country here]
IMMIGRATION OFFICER: What's your national dish?
YOU: What?
IMMIGRATION OFFICER: Food mate. What food do you eat?
YOU: Oh. [insert favourite national dish here]
IMMIGRATION OFFICER: Taste good?
YOU: What's this got to do with my immigration application?
IMMIGRATION OFFICER: Just answer the question, or I'll move on to one of the other 973 million people waiting outside who clearly want to come to Australia more than you do.
YOU: What was the question?
IMMIGRATION OFFICER: The [national dish]. Does it taste good?
YOU: Yes, I suppose so.
IMMIGRATION OFFICER: Can you cook it?
YOU: Um. Now?
IMMIGRATION OFFICER: No mate. When you get to Australia. It will be a condition of your immigration visa approval that you open a restaurant or take away bar offering [national dish].
YOU: But what if Aussies don't like [national dish]?
IMMIGRATION OFFICER: Mate, if we don't like your food, then you can bugger off back to where you came from... you won't be welcome in Australia.
And so it is that we have a magnificent assortment of foods to choose from... all the usuals, Chinese, Thai, Indian, Japanese, Korean, Mongolian, Hungarian, French, Spanish... plus a few exotics, and something called "Fusion", which is what happens when someone like Japanese born Tetsuya Wakuda heads off to France to learn how to be a chef before he has the above interview. The bottom line is, if they've migrated to Australia, they have a restaurant to prove it.
So... back to the Kebab, a dish of Middle Eastern origin, usually presented in Australia in one of two forms... the Turkish kebab or the Lebanese kebab. All that means is that two large ethinc groups here, the Turks and the Lebanese, both nominate the Kebab as a national dish. The only real way to tell them apart is that the Lebanese usually plaster the Lebanese flag all over their shop, which in turn means that good old fashioned xenophobia makes the Lebanese kebab less popular, plus the Turks seem to be able to overcook the meat a little better. (Also, you need to be driving a particular kind of car to park outside a Lebanese Kebab Shop... one that is purple or orange, with very fat mag wheels on the back, and a doof doof stereo system that can be heard on Mars, but that's perhaps a subject for another blog.)
There are some essential ingredients for a great kebab... the aforementioned overcooked meat that's been going around and around on that vertical spit for just a day too long... some slightly limp lettuce, over-ripened tomato, a little of some secret recipe humous just like their great aunt used to make back in the old country, really fresh tabouleh that gets stuck on your teeth...
...and at the end of the essembly process comes a question... "wohsorsedyowonmate?" as he points to an array of big plastic squeeze bottles. There's usually four to choose from, tomato, chilli, barbecue and garlic and you can have any combination. That can be a daunting question for the uninitiated... but your choice of any sauce is safe (though only the very bold or very drunk will choose all of them).
One of the reasons the Kebab's achieved "national dish" status is it's mythical ability to prevent/cure hangovers, and that means they're often available on a direct route between your nearest pub and home.
But readers, there's trouble at my local kebab shop. It's changed owners, and like all stupid people who buy someone elses successful small business thinking they need to change it to make it better, the new owners decided they needed to play with the formula, and the recipe.
They've DROPPED the garlic sauce!
It's a bloody disgrace. Where's their national pride? Where's their respect for their adopted country? What made them think that the creamy garlic mint sauce available as an optional extra is what I wanted when I said "jusssumgarlicthangsmate".
If I'd wanted Garlic & Mint, I'd have said "garlicnminthangs" when they asked me the question. Did they hear me say "garlicnminthangs". Bloody NO. I said "jusssumgarlicthangsmate".
It's just fortunate I was paying attention. I stopped them from ruining my kebab. Sadly, Dr J's mind was elsewhere and she didn't notice the garlic and mint going onto her kebab before they wrapped it up and threw it under the toaster.
She ended up eating half of mine.
This is not the end of this. Not by a long shot.
8 comments:
I can see why the Kebab has out national-fooded the competition of meat pie. Kebab is a funny word and meat pie sounds completely disgusting. I mean, I have had a form of meat pie when I lived in South Africa - and it's pretty good - but it wasn't called "meat pie". If it had been, I would never have eaten it.
Mate mate mate. Meat pie. With tomato sauce (that's ketchup to you). Nothing better on the planet, especially when you're at the football.
If you ever come down under, I'll take you to a game and show you.
As for the kebab... pfffft... that's the price we pay for multiculturalism.
Dear god I miss kebabs. Here, they pose in an alternate disguise called "kebobs". Lamb is so hard to find that a typical kebob is actually clumps of sizzled beef rammed on to a skewer. ARGH!
My ideal kebab comprises:
Many thin strips of overcooked lamb.
Lashings of burnt onion.
Cheese.
Enough hot chilli sauce to make one's head explode.
It has to be wrapped up tightly in alfoil & served with a chilled can of Coke.
Then you wander around the shops, staring idly at the wares on offer, while chowing down on the best most yummiest kebab ever.
I have never been a big fan of the garlic sauce on the kebab tho. Garlic would erode the taste of the lamb, no??
As for tabouli et al? Yer, forget it - if I wanted to eat rabbit food, I'd buy a lettuce!
Chester - if you take medicore to the footy, remember to observe these rules:
1. the pie must be cold.
2. the Coke or beer must be warm.
3. splurt sauce everywhere.
4. you must not have serviettes.
& finally...
5. chips to be soggy from the vinegar.
Have I left anything out?
CAW... yes, those lame excuses they have in the Excited States. Stupid little pita bread pockets.
Maybe their xenophobia stops kebab shops from doing well there... or maybe they just don't have purple Toranas or orange Monaros to park out the front.
As for your list of pie requirements, you forgot "Aged". The pie itself has to have been in some deep freeze somewhere sinse about 1983.
Sinse?
Oh dear. I am becoming more and more trailer trash every day.
(Wouldn't we call them "caravan crap"?)
My secrets are out. Oh no.
In 1978, my fam owned a purple Torana hatchback.
In 74, we had a bright orange one.
But prior to all this, my father had an ORANGE & black striped Monaro in 1960-something.
The first story I ever wrote in school was called "My First Car" - and it was about a hot pink Monaro. I think our family cars inadvertently scarred me for life & turned me on to kebabs.
Lucky these blogs are anonymous.
Post a Comment