Kebab Craziness

I love street food. I am unafraid of the potential gastro-intestinal consequences of its consumption and often rate it over haughtier, "finer" cuisine. It's also dirt cheep. Naturally then I made it my duty soon after settling in  at Oxford to map the best food carts and street vendors in town.

I spent many a night and early morning hiking (or swaying) in every cardinal direction looking for new roadside restaurants. Hundreds of pounds, tens of miles, and one wacky prostitute encounter later I've made some interesting discoveries:

First: The inverse price-taste principle* still holds up even abroad in a socialist country.

Second: The best food carts are actually in or close to the city center, waiting to poach the loose pockets of drunk Spaniards coming back from the club district.

Thirdly: The only radio station that plays into the wee hours of the night stacks its playlist with the best of the best 80's pop female vocalists.

Lastly: Every street food vendor in town is a kebab joint run by bilingual immigrants from some Muslim Mediterranean country. Seriously, I couldn't find cart run by another ethnicity.

A personal hero of mine Anthony Bourdain considers a country's street food to be a window into its soul. I can tell you that the English fascination with lamb, kebabs, and doners is not isolated to just Oxfordshire. Now what does that say about England?


*The less it costs, the better it tastes!