So in my previous post I mentioned how my main motivation for saving funds, aside from living a happy and stable life, is to buy kebabs. Or "shawarma" as some like to call it.
What I said is true and it is because, until you have tasted the pure bliss of a galette-style kebab with "Samourai saus" and fries, you have not lived. Without having previously eaten Shawarma you don't know what real food is, it is like trying to picture a fourth dimension.
Don't believe me? Well think about this: I have hated mostly all green vegetables for the majority of my adolescent and adult life. I even hated some vegetables of other colors. I was a vegetable racist. I sustained myself with meat, perhaps some ketchup or other sauce, and potatoes. I need not mention how fried and battered vegetables aren't really vegetables, cause if they were, then I could have practically been called a vegetarian. Instead, I was mostly a carnivore, sticking my nose up at anything remotely healthy and calling it rabbit food. Until I met my wife, and kebab.
To impress my wife and make her not think that I was another fat American scumbag, I ate salads she and her mother made, prepared with vinaigrette (those were actually pretty good despite having to chew on something green)... I ate any vegetable she threw at me, even leek. Which was a mistake. But the point is, I broadened my horizons and was willing to try things, willing to endure the horrific and unnatural taste of fresh vegetables on my pallet IF there was a taste involved that could counter balance the situation. That is, I started to eat like a normal human being.
The first step after all of that was a local Shawarma restaurant in Brussels. We were sitting in a bar one night having a drink and I noticed that a lot of the local population, mainly of Arab descent, were walking up to this restaurant and ordering lots of food (which was mainly a food stand with a big window, the kitchen in front of you consisting of about 4 by 12 feet of room to move around). I was curious and asked my wife if she knew what it was all about and why it was so popular.
She didn't know, but after hooking up with the likes of me she was also opening her mind to new and disgusting things, so we headed over to try it out. For 2.50 EUR we got a giant galette kebab filled with salad, meat, and samurai sauce. I was still hesitant about the salad but I forged ahead knowing I was going to at least be eating some form of meat. I also didn't know what samurai sauce was, all I knew was that it was supposedly "hot", as in spicy hot, and that sounded nice. For a few days on my obsessive return trips to the Shawarma, I even mispronounced it as "sam-why" because that's how the French seem to pronounce it. Only later did I realize it was named Samurai after the noble Japanese warriors. And it lives up to its name. It is one of the most noble sauces I have encountered, aside from perhaps Heinz Ketchup, which holds-fast a position in my heart.
In the end, it is possible that the combination of my wife and kebabs saved my life. At the very least, it saved me from nutrient deficiency, which is also one of my utmost concerns.
As a tribute to the world of kebab, I suggested to my wife that we name our first born child Kebab. The second will be named Penguin after our obsession with the book publisher Penguin. Penguin and Kebab - noble samurai names that no one could make fun of at school.
I also intend on opening a kebab shop in the US, primarily in the south, where the meal has yet to be properly introduced (the greek just fuck it up with their gyros and lack of samurai sauce). I will be rich and will eat kebab at my leisure. Interesting facts I found while researching for my endeavor:
United States: Shawarma is usually found in regions and localities that host a concentration of Arab or Jewish population, such asDetroit, Baltimore, Chicago, South Florida, California, Washington DC, and New York City. An almost direct result of the conflict in the Middle East, shawarma is also popular among American soldiers when returning home.
So in conclusion, I intend to make myself rich off of the food that I love and that has treated me so well, by exploiting American veterans from the south.
editor's note: it turns out that after continued research it is estimated that kebab has not been treating me well, but that it has instead been poisoning me slowly with an extremely high calorie diet. I feel betrayed, and yet I remain as loyal as ever.
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