The 100 Yellow Beers in 100 Places Challenge, organised as a lark by an acquaintance in Colorado and his buddy in Texas, took on a life of its own maturing in the summer to quite a few completions and then ending the year in the death spasms as three participants sprinted to the tape (or the bright, white light). Well done, all.
And then last week I received the announcement that the 2013 Challenge would be burgers…none from fast food megachains, and no repeats of any sort (the rules are simple so even I can understand them). However, burgers in this country are a little less appetising than a wet cardboard box so I have asked (and been granted) a dispensation allowing kebabs. [Bad burgers are not universally the case…one notable exception was chronicled here.]
The döner kebab is a marvel of technology if not of dining and in a country so steeped in alcohol it is almost a requirement–if there isn’t a stand in your village you should get some sort of tax relief. It is most effective as a prelude to a session of drinking since it both helps to absorb excess drink and the fats serve to shut the subsequent esophageal deliveries in the stomach for a period of time; however, it is most often added at the end of the bender resulting in myriad multicoloured decorations on the pavements round and about town centres the nation over.
I love ’em and to make it to 50 in a year I plan to pace myself with one per week. A small order of anything else could be known as the child-sized one, and child-sized is about right for a small kebab: easily the size of a healthy newborn baby if not a healthy meal. I have never had the nerve to order a large.
So, over the course of the impending year I’ll be reporting more than the odd-monthly kebab review of the past several years. The drinking hasn’t killed me yet, so what-the-hell?