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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 27th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Famished from the shamefully slow race and the rain-soaked runs to the start and from the finish of the Broad Town 5, Oscar’s Grill was a welcome sight and I dragged my wet, tired ass in for a kebab.  The reviews have been good for this one, but it should be noted that this is a small town with an inordinate number of pubs nearby so the judgement rendered by the other reviewers might not be of the most reliable quality.

However, the small kebab was made of good quality döner–neither fat nor dry and salty but not perniciously so.  Veg was standard for kebab shops which is to say: awesome.  The pita was yummy and the blackened bits from heating it over the charcoals enhanced the fresh bread.

I was wary of the chilli sauce, though, and the first bite confirmed my fear that it was catsup based. This concern turned out to be meritless, though; the chillis ground into the base were sneaky devils and quite warm and flavourful from bite two onward.  Well done, Oscar.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 25th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Always a fantastic kebab at Hassan’s (they grill the döner to de-fat it and the toppings and sauce are lovely), this was especially delicious after a 7.5 mile run and a day without a meal after a very early breakfast.  The queue is usually longer at tea time but it was easily the nicest day out in two years and the average kebab diner would still be soaking up beer and sunlight.  I had already enjoyed my beers at the Plough in Great Haseley and the Plough in Wheatley so I took my supper on a brief stroll around Merton College’s grounds before heading out to Swindon.

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“Do you know how to cook these?” asked Anna whilst ringing up my purchases.  I had not been to the Italian grocers for months and grabbed the bag of lupini as an impulse buy because they looked like yellowy broad beans.

“Erm, boil them, I reckon?”

Franco butted in: “you must soak them then cook them an hour; after that you store them in cold water for five days.” Now I was intrigued and had to have them.  ”They get sweeter as the time goes on.  Don’t get in a hurry, though.”  His admonishments were confirmed on several cooking sites with many suggesting two weeks storage.  Here is the chronicle of our efforts to prep lupini in time for the 2nd May Bank Holiday this year (although they weren’t ready until the following weekend for the birthday debauch).

Whilst prepping another meal, I boiled half a bag of the thumbnail sized seeds and they began to plump up after 20 minutes.  I left them to simmer another 2 hours whilst throwing in bits of vegetables and the fat from some sausage, then drained them, packed them in a Kilner jar (Mason jar, Yanks), covered them with cold water and stuck them in the fridge.

As a reference point, I tasted one of the freshly packed beans.  It was the most bitter thing I have EVER tried to eat and for two hours it ruined the flavours of everything else I tried to eat or drink…cookies, iced tea, aged provolone, gin and tonic: they all suffered.

“All we’ve eaten mate for the last four bleeding weeks is lupin soup, roast lupin, steamed lupin, braised lupin in lupin sauce, lupin in the basket with sautéed lupins, lupin meringue pie, lupin. sorbet… we sit on lupins, we sleep in lupins, we feed the cat on lupins, we burn lupins, we even wear the bloody things!”

The beans are the seeds of the yellow lupin and are reputed to have the highest protein content of any beans except soy; that’s as may be, but you have to wonder who first decided to try them and then who came up with this convoluted method of preparation.  Most of the Italians in town are Calabrian and most sites I have scouted place lupini in Calabria and Puglia so I am guessing this is sort of Italian soul food, but the question is still begged: from whence does it hail?

At work at the CCRC in the mid Oughties, I developed methods for immobilising lectins on silica gel to make a separation material for specific complex carbohydrates largely because so many of these are extremely toxic to humans and other mammals.  The lectins in lupini are likewise specific to particular carb-chains and are also allergens to broad swathes of the population and carry warning markers (such as the persistent bitterness I experienced) for the rest of us.

Some, but not all, of the bitter flavour comes from the skins of the shells. Many of these peel off easily after the first couple days of soaking, but I only tasted the intact beans and the bitterness subsided somewhat even in these after just ten days so this might be overkill.  For now, we’ll just take the easily removable husks and leave the rest for the taste test.

They were finally okay to eat on the 1st of June, three weeks after we started them.  I minced a clove of garlic and covered it with a splash of olive oil then added a sprig of oregano and some cayenne pepper; this would be tossed with the beans to make the long-awaited snack.  The beans didn’t have to be heated but I thought this might be nice.

The verdict? In the deep south, you get boiled peanuts served up, hot and wet, in a brown paper bag that taste as good as these do.  The boiled peanuts take an hour or two from start to finish and there is never a chance of lectin or alkaloid poisoning if you aren’t already sensitized to peanuts.  I’m wondering if the seeds will sprout, though; lupins are lovely plants.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 24th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Now 9 pubs (and pints) into my birthday run (most recent stop a hundred stumbly steps away at the King’s Arms), I found the highly recommended Flames Kebab.  I really needed this and it did not disappoint.  The thin chilli sauce had subtlety and fire, the tomatoes were firm and flawless and highly aromatic, the chips were worth the wait and crisp to the end of the meal’s very short lifespan.  The best bit, though, had to be the meat, itself: not very fatty, rich with lamb, and a texture that does a very good impression of fully constituted flesh.  Yum.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 23rd entry for the 2013 Challenge]

 

So insidiously salty that my jaws started to lock a half hour after ingestion, this structure-free meat-esque abomination was covered with delicious tomatoes but lettuce that was soggy and had all the flavour of Easter basket hay.  Yuk.

Perhaps Sammy’s Kebab shop’s name was as misleading as that of the neighbouring store which sells decorating shite but which I imagined to be a head shop.  I’d have to be REALLY stoned to get another dish from Sammy’s.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 22nd entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Consistently good, Yummy’s was my go-to kebab when I lived nearby.  The sauce is awesome and the veg is always a treat.  A bit out-of-the-way for me now, I crossed paths with it on my way back from a run to and from Purton and couldn’t resist.  Yummy, indeed.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 21st entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Starving on the way home last week, I hopped off in Faringdon when I realised the BF2K was open.  I have been here before but never sober or rested.  The chilli sauce and chips were the best things, again, but I was pleasantly surprised, in my clear-headed state, that the döner tasted more like meat than fat and salt and had a texture that indicated less gristle or connective tissue than typical.  Well done.

 

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 20th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

The Magic Kebab House is always a particular joy.  The guy running the show is friendly and he serves up some tasty treats and the chilli sauce actually has a bit of heat to it.  A perfect sunset meal for the walk from the Magic Roundabout to the homestead.

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We named a visitor  ”Gentleman’s Relish” at Mr. Happy’s Hash in Tucson after he used the term in a fantastic story from his early days with the Royal Ulster Constabulary.  The definition I know is here, so you can imagine how surprising it was to find it tinned on the shelf at Sainsbury’s.  Yuck.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 18th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Somewhere over the Rainbow I opened the box to inspect the wares.  The chips were, as suspected, greasy (scooped as they were from some storage area beneath the heated display case where the precooked cod rested–to be fair, this is standard for a lot of chippies and the cod looked tasty and was massive).

The meat had been sliced from a cold döner cylinder and heated on a barbecue but not to a caramelised brown rather just to the point that the fats therein started to melt.  The chilli sauce was just some bulk product.

As I passed the Folly on my way back to a bus stop on this beautiful day, the fat residues of the chips and the meat glistened in the sun, mingling but not mixing at the bottom of the takeaway box.  Yuck.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 17th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

If you are trying to do a statistical analysis based on this year’s kebab challenge, you should note that last week’s assertion that the best kebab places are near a good music shop and across from a porn place (see above) is not necessarily the case.  Then again, maybe just noticing these things improves the perceived quality of the meal.

I first went to the Bodrum Fish Bar a year or so ago and was soundly disappointed, but this was pretty tasty despite initial appearances.  The elephant leg was a leftover and only about 6 inches in diameter; as the first customer of the day I saw it before the space heater that cooks it was turned on and was impressed and disturbed by the large, white globules of congealed fat.  The heat melted these well and the meat, which was less like minced meat than expected and in fact appeared to retain a bit of the original muscular structure, wasn’t salty or fatty once the mass was assembled.

Overall, the chilli sauce was awesome and the tomatoes fantastic and generously apportioned (I got four on the small kebab) but the lettuce was browning (crisp, but old) .  Not a kebab for the beginner, I would definitely stop here again following a Cowley Road drinking session.

There are two Bodrum’s on this block, but Bodrum is the most common kebab shop name in this country and I have had some very good and very bad kebabs at Bodrum’s past.  {Bodrum is a Turkish resort city known as Halicarnassas in ancient times, and renowned for its cuisine, ironically.}

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 16th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

This was absolutely fantastic.  I have meant to try Meli for years now but never really think about it until I am in the little recessed location for something else (there’s an awesome musical instrument shop nearly next door).  Also, it is almost always populated with the sort of pretentious yuppie pricks that keep you from enjoying a meal as you try not to argue with their ridiculous and self-serving pronouncements.

This visit, I was confronted with three such arseholes; one was writing his novel over a cup of coffee and took up all the space at one of the four-seat tables while the other two, deep in conversation about how spiritual each of them was apparently were so spiritual they needed the remaining two tables to host their otherworldly companions…bitches. I ordered a gyro to go and took it out into the light snow of this bitter and endless winter.

The hostess had apologized for only having beef today (I really wanted lamb or, better, a mixture like shoarma or döner), but the succulent chunks of stewed beef were delicious.  The veg was good, too, and the pita (which she bothered to split and fill instead of just dumping the filling on top) tasted fresh if not homemade.

The highlight was the tsasiki sauce, though, with enough garlic to creep into the sinuses and a hint of sesame on top of the thick yoghurt and dill mix I could live years with only this and bread for sustenance.  However, if you see the shop across the street (see above photo) hosing out the booths…that ain’t tsasiki.

 

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[Originally, this project was described here,  and you can see the most recent prior Update (3) here.]

25 March 2013:  Stir crazy from enforced rest (IT band injury), I took the admonition to limit exercise to gentle walks as including short, hilly hikes and went out into the unseasonable cold (winter set in around this time last year and just won’t fuck off).  Picking up a bit of the un-mapped sections of the EPiOT project was the aim, but I also lucked into a fantastic (if oddly situated) kebab stand to add to my annual challenge total:

   

26 March 2013:  Not a twinge after yesterday’s hike so with a half hour till sunset I headed out to the hills and exploring some of the ‘new build’ neighbourhood off Okus (I just know they must have a pub down in there, but haven’t yet found it).  Coming back via Grosvenor then William Street, there were some compelling stairs near an old school house that now hosts Swindon Silicon (the Boy’s Entrance is just behind that fence in the photo).  Unusually bad luck with dead ends on the steep Fairview (next to the Radnor Street Cemetery) and again on an alley, but that’s part of the fun, eh?

  

 

 

29 March 2013: There was sun.  No, really (I say this for the Brits out there), sun and relatively clear skies, I shit you not.  With Jackie laid up with the lurgy, I did some errands then headed out to knock out some pesky trails:

These runs have enhanced my appreciation of Art and I passed a basketball court where a kid was wielding a spray can, too deep in thought to notice I had stopped to tie a shoe.  I’m a little concerned he was working on top of extant paint when there is such a wealth of virgin canvas just around the corner:

 

 

 

As the alleyways spooled out before me, many more works presented themselves, like this conceptual Minnie Mouse:

 

 

 

And, this mural on a garden fence above the quarries adjacent to the Town Garden:

 

 

 

Philistine that I am, I can only take in so much visual information and have learned to pace myself.  I’m glad that I did, too, since the detail above the recently reopened Prince of Wales shows that it was built to be exactly that (the Prince of Wales).  The last time I visited this pub was a week before my attempt at a second visit (when I found it shuttered, a year-and-a-half or so back).  They reopened a couple of weeks ago and I felt compelled to have something (albeit just a half pint of Carling).  I’m sure I’ll be back soon, though.

 

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The 66 bus had to wait for a road construction imposed lane narrowing to open and the Saffron Indian was directly in front of me…with this soon to fall sign hung centered over the entrance. Over/under on the fall date is mid-June (but windy weather is due in May). Bonus points if the victim is split in half by it.

At least they had the good sense to tie the sign to the heavy metal frame (so they both go at once)…Health and Safety means EVERYTHING to these people.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 15th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

 

The photoshopped text is an old, Beavis and Butthead style bit of silliness I do every time I see this dealership but can’t help myself (very immature).  The kebab was picked up at Caner’s Kebab stand down a road resembling an auto salvage yard just behind Dick Lovett and was quite a find.

I am nursing an inflamed iliotibial (IT) band and off running for a week or two and decided to find a few trails on my other project, covering Every Trail in Old Town when I spotted this little treasure…friendly staff, cheap, and some of the tastiest döner yet.  It especially benefits from getting thrown on a hot griddle from the steam table thus carbonizing a portion of the sliced meat.  I would score it down for the appearance of the chilli sauce but it was actually fantastic.  Love it.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 14th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

It was pissing down rain when I returned from Hungerford, starving due to my choice of last minute snack out there.  The #6 was waiting at the station when my bus pulled in so I transferred and hopped off on Cricklade Road in front of the Gorsehill Grill.

This was a good call.  The chips were crisp and fluffy inside and hot enough to keep the kebab warm for my damp walk back to Old Town.  The chilli sauce was better than you normally get (not sweet but still thick and spicy), the meat tasted like it was from an animal source or sources, and the veg was fresh and properly apportioned.  Well done.

 

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 13th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

 

The staff at King’s Best Barbeque (the oldest kebab place in Swindon) take a lot of pride in the kitchen and will let you tour the place.  A while back (before the whole horse meat scandal) they volunteered to have samples of their wares sent off for DNA testing; the döner came back >95% lamb which is especially impressive as most döner won’t come back as 95% ANY animal or mixture thereof.  And, it is good: not at all salty, the pickled cabbage alone is worth the price, the other veg is grand, and the meat is worthy of their pride.  And, the chilli sauce is fresh, homemade, and hot enough to make them warn you about it (but not hot enough that someone with American ideas of spicy food need worry about it).  Awesome.

 

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 12th entry for the 2013 Challenge--because I have no self control]

Abso-fucking-lutely starving at the end of the Kennet and Avon/overland run which ended at the Hare and Hounds, I grabbed some groceries and then headed toward the bus stop only to find I had a half hour till the next bus back to Swindon. Looking around for a quick bite I soon spotted the Kebab House and popped in for some nourishment.

The guys were friendly in that way that Turkish vendors on cartoons like the Simpsons are friendly, with gruff and angry voices loudly asking every question and punctuating every statement, like “you want SALT and VINEGAR on CHIPS!?!” or “THANK you, have a NICE DAY!!!”

But the meat was meatlike (it had a grain to it which is a bit disturbing since I am almost certain it is minced), and not especially fatty or salty. The sauce had a smoky flavour like you get using Scotch Bonnets and occasionally the heat was Scotch Bonnet-y. The chips were from heaven and I ate them fast so the gods wouldn’t know I had them. And, then the bus came.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 11th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Not my first trip to the Calne Charcoal Grill and likely not my last.  The meat is meaty and not filled with salt or filler, the chilli sauce and salad are spectacular, the pita tastes fresh enough to be homemade (albeit doubtful).  Quite pleased I decided to do the run through Compton Basset and into Calne, today.  I believe those were my last two pubs in the area, though, so I may be awhile getting back for another of these tasty treats.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 10th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Anyone who gives a glowing review to a kebab stand is not to be trusted (the internet is full of liars, it seems).  So all the hype about Bodrum being ‘the best’ and ‘not to be missed’ was just as valid as all that penis enlargement medicine (although this guy should do the adverts).  The chips were limp and cold and the döner chewy like a rubber eraser that had been stored in a block of salt.  On the other hand, the chilli sauce was awesome and the salad (which was apparently an extra charge) looked lovely.  Maybe it is better after 6 or 8 pints…that’s an experiment I can probably arrange.