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The Joy of the Late-Night Kebab

by Zoe Strimpel
Tue, 30 Oct 2007 at 6:02 PM
updated Tue, 30 Oct 2007 at 6:06 PM

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Monday was Republic Day in Turkey, therefore the obvious time to pay homage to that staple of the British diet, the "kebab," with a pilgrimage to either Green Lanes in Islington or Arcola Road in Hackney. Both are lined with Turkish restaurants, from humble takeaway joints to multi-level restaurants, where the food is done as it is in the homeland. "This stuff is heaven," a management consultant and diner at Zig Zag on Green Lanes said. "Nothing like the late-night kebab."

What he means it that when it comes to culinary worth, the kebab has a bad rep — it is mostly consumed after midnight by people who have had way more than one drink. It fills a certain fat and salt-shaped hole in the homeward bound partygoer and is just as integral to British society as the monarchy (if not more). Nobody looks too carefully at the glistening slab of rotating meat from which cuts are slopped into a pita bread with "salad" and a maybe fries — we gobble it on the trot and generally regret it the next morning. But the awfulness of a kebab moment is what Brits love about it. It is a sort of confirmation of the jolly grimness of the situation — the drunken individual in search of something solid and familiar on the way home after a night out like so many others.

Like much fast ethnic food, the late-night kebab is delicious in its true form. For all its Middle Eastern-inspired grease meccas, London hosts some of the very best kebab shops and restaurants outside of Turkey. Eating these succulent piles of clean-looking chicken and lamb — and, in the case of Mangal Ocakbasi on Arcola, charcoal-grilled quail, seasoned only with salt — is a heavenly experience. The idea of dimming it with alcohol is unappealing.

Mangal Ocakbasi: http://www.mangal1.com/contact.htm

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