Turkish Delight


An anomalous day today - I won't be cooking anything at all!  I have an interview up in London village at 4pm, and after I am going to meet some old friends for a bite to eat.  

It's going to be a strange reincarnation of an age-old rite of passage - beer and kebabs.  Tonight, however, we will be drinking 5 quid pints of posh Italian beer and sampling the delights of a restaurant called Ozer (I think there's meant to be some dots in there somewhere, but I have no idea how to implement them) as opposed to 3 cans of Merrydown cider and a greasy shish kofte at 3am in the morning.

For me, Turkish food is much maligned and little understood.  Yes, there is a lot of grilled meat, and yes pitta bread is used as the ubiquitous bread but please - delve deeper into the cuisine.  You will find some beautiful dishes such as lahmacun (Turkish pizza with piquantly spiced lamb) and manti (the Turkish equivalent of ravioli served with melted butter, chilli flakes and fresh yoghurt).

I have been to Turkey twice, and on both occasions I have enjoyed the culture and the cuisine.  The Turks will castrate me for saying it, I am sure, but their style of cooking is so similar to Greek.  Even down to the firewater - just look at the similarities between Ouzo and Raki.  Both taste of aniseed, both are extremely potent, and whats more both will give you a headache like you never imagined possible the next day.  Additionally, both Ouzu and Raki seem to taste distinctly pleasant sitting at an ocean-side restaurant whilst the sun is shining.  Take a bottle home to dreary Surbiton though, and I can testify they both taste quite loathsome.

I do love the infinite permutations of the kebab though.  I often utilize a kebab shop in Thornton Heath (ok, I might as well get this out the way now - yes, I'm a Crystal Palace FC supporter) and during my visits I will take a seat and devour my chicken doner with gay abandon whilst eavesdropping in to the incoming orders:  "no chilli sauce on the chicken shish, but extra onions and red cabbage mate."  "can I get two pots of burger sauce, no not in the kebab boss, separate.  No onions or chilli's, but can I get some chips on top?"  It is only in the kebab shop (and it doesn't matter what time of day it is) that you may address the shop owner (and indeed, expect to be addressed back by said proprietor) as "Boss".  Whats more, there might be a queue of 15 people but the people who work in these restaurants remember everyone's kebab down to the last condiment.