Abrakebabra…Everywhere you go Kebabs! Fall 2011

Abrakebabra…Everywhere you go Kebabs!

            Kebabs. When I used to hear that word it would conjure up images of pieces of steak sandwiched between vegetables like zucchini and sweet peppers on a stick. The preparation would involve throwing these meat and vegetable popsicles on a grill until they would get charred to perfection. By perfection, I do mean for the food to have black parallel lines running across them and not in actuality turning so crisp you can barely tell the difference between a piece of steak and  yellow squash.

            Kebabs are not the same in France. You try to explain what an “American” kebab is and you quickly realize how futile the past 10 minutes of conversation have been, as well as how embarrassingly ineffective your pantomimes are. “You know…the wooden sticks (trying to find a stick on the floor)…you put the meat and the vegetables…argghh!” That is not to say that kebabs are not popular in France. On the contrary, they are to French people what a cheeseburger is to an American…indispensible.

            Unlike the Americanized version, the doner kebab hails from Turkey. It is a pita or wrap (your choice) filled with lamb/chicken that has been seasoned and rotates on a spit. Occasionally for flavor the spit will have a frozen beef tomato on top which when progressively cooked, drips its sweet juices onto the tenderized meat, adding both flavor and moisture. When it comes to kebabs, some stands will offer you the option of what goes into it much like a taco or salad bar while others opt for the time saving classic ingredients. Add a little diced tomatoes, lettuce, purple onions, black olives and your choice of sauce.

            Some will argue that what you put in the kebab pales in comparison to what really makes each one unique…the sauce. Everything ranging from keeping it simple with ketchup or curry to mixing it up with samurai (ketchup and mayonnaise) and sauce blanche (yogurt based herb sauce) you want it you got it. I gravitate more towards the spicy chili and lots of sauce blanche. It was through this love of white sauce that I was told a funny albeit slightly gross joke. The gag goes that some kebab owners like most fast food workers feel undervalued and belittled at their work. To take vengeance on the unsuspecting but troublesome customers the sauce blanche contains a little more than just yogurt and herbs. Without going into grotesque detail it is obviously one of those poor-taste jokes like a pinky finger in chili or the rat tail in a dumpling but regardless everyone knows the story and loves to repeat it.

            It goes without saying that if you are going to go towards a carbohydrate comatose-like state you might as well do it up and get the formulaire. The meal plan comes with a soft drink and fries that always appear to be freshly dipped in oil and crisp to the taste. If you are too zealous you run the risk of burning the roof of your mouth which necessitates you to actually savor your fast food. I know it is unheard of! Although it probably explains why most French people are so incredibly fit. Eating a 1,000 calorie kebab while walking everywhere from class to the supermarket and the back home will eventually cancel all the fats out.

            Whether you like or not if you live in Montpellier, which boasts a growing 62 kebab stands, odds are you have seen, been exposed, tasted or fallen in love with the doner kebab. If it is not the actual ingredients that hook you it is the sheer convenience and the price that get you. For 4 euros and 50 centimes you can get a satisfying meal with your daily intake of meat, dairy and vegetables, no matter how negligible the amount or the actual quality is. You will not get anything for that good a price in Montpellier where a bottle of peach iced tea will set you back 3 euros. The greatest everyday victory is discovering a new kebab stand with a cheaper formulaire.             Conversations usually go something like this, “So what did you eat for lunch today? Wait no…let me guess… a kebab?”      

            “Yes, but it wasn’t just ANY kebab…I found a place on the corner of the Comedie the one with the red awning by the movie theatre…a chicken kebab, drink and fries all for 3 euros and 40 centimes!”

            “No! C’est pas vrai…are you serious?”

            “I couldn’t make it up if I tried. You should check it out they have lamb too…I think.”

            “How would you feel about going again tonight…for dinner?”

            “I’mdown.”
            I was speaking to one of my French friends who told me after I professed my newfound addiction to kebabs that when he was in high school he would eat at least one a day for lunch. For the French, kebabs are more than just a cheap novelty targeting tourists. They are an accustomed food staple like anything greasy and cheap (insert McDonalds food item) to Americans. No matter how many kebabs you eat you can never have enough. I remember taking the tram back from food shopping one day and I laughed out loud because I read a kebab stand sign that said in French, “There’s never a wrong time or place for a kebab.” It sounds silly but it is incredibly accurate. When you are hung over and need a quick meal to fill your stomach or you have spent the entire day at the library and are not in the mood to stand in the dormitory kitchen clicking the on switch for the hot plate…you are in a kebab state of mind. When you cannot quite force yourself to go to McDonalds on the principle that you are in fact in France and should not be resorting to American fast food…you are in a kebab state of mind. And when you just get that inexplicable urge to sink your teeth into a hot pita overflowing with steaming spiced meat, crisp onions, juicy tomatoes and creamy white sauce…then you are in a kebab state of mind.

            It also helps create an appetite for kebabs when the vendors are friendly. I remember my first kebab like it was yesterday (when in actuality yesterday’s kebab was probably my 217^th). I had only arrived to Montpellier two days before and I was starving. Going food shopping was an art not yet mastered as I was having difficulties getting around on the tram and speaking the most basic of French. It was my preconceived notion that I had to eat a “French” meal which led me to discover my first kebab.

            Much like Christopher Columbus in search of a faster trading route to the Indies and ending up in America, I was searching for the quintessential French lunch and ended up with a kebab. I remember getting the wrapped burrito-esque item and starting to rip apart the tin foil to get at it. The owner came over to me knowing that I was clearly not French and pantomimed, “Wait…let me show you how it’s done.” As I patiently stood back he took the kebab and artfully rewrapped the tin foil around the pita. He demonstrated that the correct way to eat a kebab is to work the tin foil down as you eat it insuring that all the contents end up in your mouth and not on your lap. I was and still am eternally grateful to the kebab vendor of Albert Premier for teaching me the right kebab eating method as well as always giving me extra sauce blanche every time I choose to indulge myself.

            Since being in France, I have internalized a quote Voltaire once said about eating, « Rien ne serait plus ennuyeux que manger et boire si Dieu ne les avait pas fait un plaisir de même qu'une nécessité. » Essentially what it means is that nothing would be more boring than eating and drinking if God did not make it both a pleasure as well as a necessity. While America seems to have overlooked this quote, France has not. Eating like breathing is something we need to do to survive but it does not happen without effort. One needs to truly enjoy what they are eating and to do so they need to be attracted to the look, the aroma, the texture and the taste. This is why even something as cheap and convenient as a kebab appeals to the French senses. The intoxicating smell of the rotating spit of lamb simmering in the heat of the grill, the sizzle as the vendor cuts slices and scraps fall onto the hot metal surface, the vibrant hues of diced red tomatoes and chopped purple onions, the feel of the warm pita between your fingers and the indescribable taste of deliciousness.

             It is basic understanding that you cannot truly take pleasure from a meal unless you have the time to do so. This is something Americans tend to neglect in their pursuit for other more “important” things like money or a time share in the Bahamas. Even a kebab which is considered fast food is savored slowly at table with friends. With a two hour break for lunch, to eat your food in less than 20 minutes would not only be idiotic but wasteful. Furthermore food always tastes better when it is enjoyed in good company. Have you ever noticed the way something as simple as a bowl of popcorn seems to last forever and taste so good when sharing it during a late night movie with friends? Would it taste nearly as good scarfed down in ten minutes before class all by yourself? No. The French understand the significance of good things taking time. Whether it is enjoying a kebab after a long night of drinking at a pub or as a way of reconnecting with friends…kebabs are like magic, when you really want one a stand will appear.