The Bristol Fryer

Touched on in my last post, I had to try a Bristol Fryer. This review is from over a year ago now, I have since had quite a few of these.

The kebab skewer looked a moderate size and a deep, rich brown for midweek which is a good sign, a measly pale squared-off doner is rarely an inviting sight. Due to this essentially being a fish and chip shop I was unnerved by the high counter and lack of visibility of salad. A notice boasted that "Spanish" onions, cabbage and lettuce were available. I selected a regular doner, all the salad, garlic sauce. This arrived disturbingly quickly, it was slapped into a standard pale polystyrene box with a clicky tab lid that never stays shut properly and handed over. I dared not peek until I got home.

I find for some reason I always worry that I have made an unwise choice with a small doner. I watch them shaving the doner, praying for one more swipe, eyeing up the growing greasy pile at the bottom. When I get it home however, all my concerns drift away. Put it this way, in one small mouthful of most kebabs there is far more meat than an Italian BMT from Subway.

I arrived home, unwarapped the beast from the three sheets of paper and the box sprung open to reveal a beautiful sight. I took photographs. I tucked in, the onions had a little too much tang unfortunately, a good solution would be for them to be inserted along with the meat (or within a wrap rather than pitta?) which would allow them to mingle with the flesh to gently steam and soften. The lettuce was OK, the cabbage was a little on the red side but added good bulk.

This was a very promising start and the speedy arrival could only mean one thing: shave n save. A pot of pre-cooked meat kept warm allowing it to effortlessly glide into an awaiting pitta. I have had wonderful experiences with this technique in the past, the humid atomsphere the meat is exposed to softens it beautifully. However this time it intensified the slightly off lamby notes of the flavour and the grease factor was overwhelming as the fat rendered out of the meat. Each mouthful the oil was dripping through my fingers, my pitta slowly disintegrating before my eyes. By the time I had finished, the grease resembled thick white vaseline on my hands. I had to wash them using fairy liquid. Twice.

The Interim & The Move

I have been uninspired to write recently. I have moved house to the North Gloucester Road area which has been touched on in previous reviews - Kebab houses of note are conspicuous in their absence in these parts. Eating arrangements have caused me to fend for myself and/or eat late on Tuesdays which lends itself perfectly for Kebab hunting, especially as I pass through Stokes Croft: Bristol's cultural (and kebab) quarter. I have eaten a plethora of Ritas, and my new salad of choice is "All the salad. Yes, including the chillis". I now appreciate a crisp onion to balance the soft lamb flesh. I also nearly ate a Shalimar but defected at the last minute to the Grecian: the elephant leg was almost touching metal and the person at the counter had a face like a freshly slapped arse. I keep returning to Ritas as it is convenient and trustworthy: always a large glistening elephant leg, hand carved, keen sweaty staff. These kebab experiences have melded into each other in my mind: they became a functional snack rather than a joyous, delicious yet humbling experience that I love and crave so much.

The big move has also led to a whole new problem - bus kebabs. The thin carrier bag looks so inconspicous, you think your sandwich is cosy and sealed within its wrapping. Then the scent hits your nostrils. Not the subtle friendly meaty smells but the essence of fart, thick sliced onions, warm cheap recycled chipshop wrapping paper. On a packed bus this can be mortifying and the desire to start eating becomes difficult to bear. Luckily it is only 10 minutes.

The choices at this other end of Glos Rd are quite uninviting (hence the bus rides). Charcoal Grill has two franchises nearby but I have been massively put off by a recent negative review and reported discovery of several hairs. I believe a doner skewer is located in a Southern Fried Chicken shop, this is outrageous. I have even been driven to dining at the king of pseudo-kebabs Subway as it has the requisite dubious meat and choice of salad, all served up by a miserable cunt.

We had chips from the Bristol Fryer recently which were incredible. They were as soft as butter, a creamy savoury nugget of joy with some gentle crispy edges. It was then I spotted a side-on kebab skewer! I remember reading vague favourable reviews of the Jolly Fryer's kebabs which is related to this particular Fryer - I vowed that I would give it a try. After consulting a map i discovered that this may well be my geographially closest kebab shop. I shall make it so.

New New Grecian - June 2011

An opportunity presented itself and I had a Grecian for the first time for a while. They have a new chimney installed over their charcoal pit, it is gradually starting to look quite beautiful in there, like a proper Taverna. Rows of neatly stacked shish and kofte, a gorgeous display of salad, European lagers. I ordered a small doner kebab with minty yoghurt sauce, all the salad, no red cabbage. The skewer wasn't even heated up, it was swiftly and crudely carved in their rustic style (I was concerned there would not be enough also), and while he heated the pitta bread up we had a wonderfully awkward conversation:

How are you?
Very well, thankyou, yes
Yeah?
Yes, can't complain, you know.
Good day?
Yes, very nice, lovely weather

I willed him to stop, but he continued nodding and genuinely seemed interested, pursuing different lines of smalltalk. It then led to some deep philosophy and an insight into an intrinsic difference between southern and northern Europe from my new friend:

"I don't know why people are so obsessed with the weather in Britain, you don't need good weather to make you happy. Sometimes I like to go for long walks in the rain, I love the feeling of it splashing on my face. As long as you are happy in life, you are happy no matter what the weather is"

Luckily then my kebab was ready, so I tucked it under my arm and walked out into the blissful June sunshine, a tear at the corner of my eye.

Back

It has been a long time since I have kebab-logged on here, but rest assured I have still been squirrelling away kebabs and enjoying them on a regular basis. I had a few reviews in note form which I shall now make public for the first time.

Perfectstubble News

My other half was recently in the Arches, getting the chips briefly mentioned in the previous review. She was patiently awaiting these to be prepared, she had spotted perfectstubble at his usual spot towards the rear of the counter. A fellow customer then whispered to his friend: "He draws that on with mascara each morning". It is seriously this perfect, it is like a real-life version of Homer Simpson's stubble if he was thinner, bespectacled and Turkish.

Shalimar!

Finally a break in my regular eating schedule allowed a (quite sober) Shalimar for my tea. It is a slightly further walk than my regular haunts but nothing too taxing. As it advertises itself still as an Indian Takeaway also, I suspected kebab-in-naan was a possibility: a reconnaisance glimpse recently confirmed this theory. I strode confidently in and ordered my first ever kebab featuring naan instead of pitta.

I went for a small doner in naan bread. The ordering process was interesting: presumably as they are an ex-indian they jotted down my simple order on a slip of paper, including my choice of salad. On enquiring on what salad was available, the reply was "all the salad" as he nodded towards a tray of lettuce, cucumber, tomato and onion. He then amended the order to omit onion, and I then suggested a further upgrade to a large doner. £3.99 including a free tin of soft drink was an incredibly reasonable price for such a meal, 49p more than a small so this made simple economic sense.

I was expecting a naan to be whipped out from under the counter, but an order was placed in the kitchen for a fresh one to be made. I feel this would create a nightmare in the late evening, however I was quite happy to wait for the improvement in quality of bread when in a dinner-at-home scenario. This also allowed me to peruse my surroundings. Shalimar is a sparsely decorated place, recently refitted with a side-on arrangement of kebab skewer and a handful of tables towards the rear. I doubt these would ever be used to eat in - they used to be a restuarant and presumably switched to takeaway with added elephant leg due to low levels of local interest, and to cash in on Stokes Croft's resurgence of (legal, non street corner) drinking. The elephant leg itself was fairly small and had a coarse-grained texture but lacked the juicyness of say the Grecian. The fact that it was quiet and early may have exacerbated this: the outside had almost certainly simply dried out which concerned me slightly. There was no chicken option which is unusual for a Friday night.

The naan finally arrived. This was quite a monstrosity: a dinner-plate sized slab of bread which was balanced atop an open standard issue pale yellow polystyrene box. I had seen no heating or shaving so was almost resigned to cold, dry meat in a massive hunk of bread, until out of nowhere he thrust his tongs into a stainless steel pot of pre-shaved doner meat! I do like my meat freshly sliced when the circumstances are right, but as previous reviews have shown the kept-warm approach can have wonderful results also. The pre-selected salad was sprinkled on and I had to intervene to prevent each individual sauce being added (odd they didn't ask this before to put on their little slip of paper). I opted for garlic sauce and a worryingly long splurge was added, my view obscured by the counter top, I had to intervene again to stop the sandwich from being flooded.

I hurried home, met with my other half who had made alternate arrangements but we shared some chips - breaking my rule but I felt it made a more complete meal in this case. I emptied out the beast onto a plate, it resembled a large omelette. I tried forking up the excess out of habit, I then realised this is pointless as it is all perfectly happily contained within. I picked it up and tucked in.

It was a celebration of coarse textured yet juicy meat with an edge of spice and heat which was a nice Indian-inspired touch. The garlic sauce was of the runny mild type, sidestepping the sickly strong tang and cloying nature of many establishments' sauces. This combined with the meat and salad to make a very satisfying filling. I ate the lot. Recommended.

Breaking News: New Kebab Shop

Details are sketchy at the moment but not too far from Ritas, near the Pipe and Slippers and next to Rice & Ting on Stokes Croft is a new Kebab shop. It is called Shalimar Kebab and Indian Takeaway - it has a neon sign in the window which reads "KEBAB" which presumably can be illuminated when these are available.

I have a feeling this used to be a standard Balti house, but probably lost out to Indian Fast Food (see reviews passim) and Asian Spicy up the road. Now they have removed the seats and created a standard counter-style arrangement. They are still selling Indian food so I can only hope and pray the option of doner + naan exists.

After a delicious Rita's earlier in the week, things are looking up for Stokes Croft - could this be the new centre of Bristolian Doner Kebab Culture (BDKC)? Look out Gloucester Road, that's all that I can say.

I passed it again yesterday, I saw one of the servers happily striding outside to a waiting white van man parked on the pavement. He handed him a parcel which clearly contained a kebab of some sort as there were spots of grease starting to seep through the paper. Looks like incredible service - a review will follow as soon as humanly possible.