Ah, kebabs! Who doesn’t love a kebab? Mostly at 2am after a skinful, I grant you, but there’s nothing quite so satisfying after a night on the sauce, than to get your chops round a giant pitta stuffed with meat. There’s something inherently manly about a kebab shop. Maybe it’s the enormous quantities of raw meat just hanging around, the hot chilli sauce or the lingering odours of sweaty beer breath that does it, but there’s no getting away from the fact that kebabs are fantastically and deliciously blokey.
My dad really loves kebabs. In fact, if ever the mothership is out for the evening without him, he uses it as the perfect excuse to indulge in this illicit pleasure: a late night kebab with extra chilli sauce. As I’ve never been the daintiest female when it comes to my eating habits, I am also partial to a kebab, especially a kebab eaten with my dad. They’re usually consumed under a bus shelter or in front of the telly, straight out of the polystyrene box (to save on washing up), but as it’s Father’s Day on Sunday, I thought I’d push the boat out and warm some plates.
Homemade pitta bread, tender cubes of marinated lamb threaded on to a skewer with juicy hunks of onion and pepper and thrown on the barbie (or griddle pan in my case) before a generous dousing of hot harissa. Who could resist? I’m even shredding some iceberg and red cabbage for further authenticity and popping some lagers in the fridge in preparation – well, it would be rude not to, wouldn’t it?
If you love your dad, give him something he really wants this Father’s Day: a big bready pocket stuffed to the gills with hot meat and hot sauce. Happy Father’s Day!
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