Kebap

When I first got here I was a little confused. Actually, if you read back to the earliest blog entries, I was a lot confused (I will never live down getting locked in the D streetcar). One of the many confusing things were the food stands. They all had a horizontal metal spit. On that metal spit was a large amount of meat, probably a 18 inch radius. In the mornings, that meat was raw and rotating, slowly cooking. I was disgusted. I could not imagine eating that. I couldn't imagine anyone who would eat that.

A month later, I was in Salzburg. I was sitting in the train station, an hour before my train would leave. I was cursing the universe for dumping me in this tourist trap while the entire Atlantic ocean poured out of the sky. I was hungry because all I had eaten was a hot chocolate and pastry (apple strudel?) at some overcrowded, smoke-filled cafe while hiding from the rain. I looked for something, somewhere to eat. My two options? Burger king or kebap. A very literal pick your poison. So I walked up to the stand and ordered my kebap. I watched as the man shaved meat off the spit, revealing a much lighter, less cocked meat inside. I paid my 2 Euros and took my first bite. It was so so good.

So guess what I had for lunch today (a month after that). Yep, you guessed it. A kebap.