The StuSie

Döner and a Movie

It's gonna be damn hard to top a good ol' St. Paul gunpoint mugging, but I guess I'll strike back with the story of what has become a European staple. The Döner Kebap, which I have learned is translated literally (and fittingly) as 'roasted rotating meat' (well, the meat part isn't so fitting in some cases), is a Turkish dish that originates in the Turkish town of Erzurum, Turkey. Now, we all know the Döner Kebap (or Yufka) from Germany and Austria: some greasy-ass meat served in a pita-like bread or wrap with veggies and sauce. The original Döner would have been from a horizontal Spieß and served like the German Döner Teller, without the bread. What's interesting is that the Döner as we know it today actually originated in Berlin in the 80's (I knew something useful must have come out of that decade).

History aside, the Döner is here to stay, and it is no doubt the definition of greasy deliciousness. In a mere 24 hours, the Germans slide 200-300 metric tons of Döner into their gullets. On many weekends I think I've accounted for at least 3 of those. One wonders how the whole morbid obesity problem hasn't snuck into Europe via the Döner route, but I guess since most people actually walk to and from the Döner shop they avoid this fate and are thus just overweight. But anyway, what I find funny about my current situation - living in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere in Austria - is that whenever I venture out of the Ennstal to bigger and dirtier places, I literally have what one could call a 'Dönerwochenende'. Sure, we plan activities like museum tours, boozing, shopping, or movies, but I'll be honest, the real reason I go is to inhale multiple Döners for multiple consecutive days in a sickeningly short amount of aggregate time. The funny part is that there's a restaurant in Stainach where I can besorg a Kebap without leaving my cozy little valley, but for some reason I opt for saving myself up for one big binge in Vienna, Graz, or Munich...

On Friday, the 18th of March, Patty's Day, we strolled out of the Hauptbahnhof and scanned left and right. We had already walked past one Döner stand, but since a certain story told by a certain someone...something something Munich train station, something something bacteria-infested train bathroom, something something depositing innards all over the tracks...well, it suffices to say I avoid the dreaded Bahnhof Döner. It's a risk one doesn't have to take; namely, because oddly enough, some of the best damn Döners I've ever had are actually visible from the main entrance of every major train station in central Europe. Graz is no exception. As we scanned left and right, we spotted what could only have been Turkish writing kitty corner from the Bahnhof. I feel like at this point in time I could spot one of these signs from 4 blocks away. As we neared the small establishment, its dirtiness became more and more apparent. What looked like a perfectly good sign was cracked and covered in staub, and some of the clientele exiting the establishment were less than savory. Contrary to the belief of the Döner-Anfänger, this should not deter any potential Döner-Fresser. In fact, I've found that in many cases, schmutz = tasty goodness. In other words live farm animals sauntering aimlessly across a dirty linoleum floor and overflowing garbage bins probably means you'll be in for the Döner to end all Döners.

That said, we should talk about alternatives to the small, dirty, former run-down-shoe-repair-shop type of Laden. Some ultra-modern Döner shops have gone the McDonald's route, with obnoxious color schemes, spotless pleather booths and new-fangled methods for Döner-efficiency. This archetype is also usually accompanied by some sort of clever slogan like "Döner for two" or "Kebap Kraziness". This is a red flag for a shit Döner. They have forgone the whole process of perfecting the Döner-making-process, and spent all of their precious time doing unnecessary things like kitsching up the place, cleaning the floor, and providing disposal bins for garbage. Take it from me, you might be sitting comfortably at a clean orange and yellow table, but you'll be eating spongy-ass bread with a mysterious meat-like substance and one lonely microscopically-sized stem-end-piece of a tomato. That's right. Not worth your hard-earned 2 Euros. You've been had, and all you've got to show for it is some wicked gut-rot.

So now that I've convinced you to 'go dirty', we can discuss about cultural experience that is the Döner shop. Many times I have come across the Döner shop/Minority Hangout. In other words, the place where all the owners' buddies hang out, smoke hookahs, and are notably not consuming Döners. You'll also find that at these places you are often confronted first with English, then German. Also, much like the typical Parthenon experience in Madison, your food is actually ordered for you. As you walk in, you don't hear 'Tag', or 'Servus', or 'hello', but 'Kebap mit allem!' (note the abscence of a question mark). The German is also usually far from perfect (I think I have heard every possible variation of the phrase mit allem, mit alles, mit alle, mit allen, u.s.w.), but I think we can give the Döner-artist some credit and say that they're at least making an attempt. To further pat the backs of Döner-artists everywhere, I have encountered some of the most talkative and interesting 'Germans' in Döner shops.

Now that you've got your Döner in hand, you're ready to brush your teeth with it. Döners are not enjoyed, they are devoured. Yufkas aren't savored, they're demolished. And if you're cool like Jon and I, you say 'fuck it' and do it in a Sakko. I praise the Döner - shit, I bow down to the Döner as both the best drunk food and the best hangover food in the world, and I beseech the EU to let in the Turks, if only to get rid of the few surviving shitty shnitzel stands that are occupying potential Döner space. Long live the Kebap!

posted by der Mistfink @ 04:27