Showing posts with label Street Food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Street Food. Show all posts

How not to make Shawerma!


When Yalla Yalla restaurant first opened in Soho it created a lot of buzz in the foodies quarters and it became an instant hit with the über crowd (I am so sorry for using that word but the option was the equally annoying in crowd). It had all the right ingredients to create a buzz; trendy location, no booking policy leading to long queue at lunch hour, small menu, communal tables and wooden benches, and the list goes on.

Despite wanting to go, mainly to try their pomegranate molasses chicken livers, I never got around to do it until last week. I had an hour or so to kill between work and a colleague leaving drinks. I was really in the mood for Shawerma so I was delighted when I discovered they have a pop-up branch in Shoreditch. A short bus ride from where I was.

I got there around five thirty in the evening to a fairly empty mini food court in what appears to be a converted building site.  The place was cleverly designed to fit in with the trendy nature of Shoreditch. Food is prepared and served from what looks like a converted burger van topped with an over sized sign with theatre style lights.  It wasn't particularly peak time so there was me and three Shoreditch-arty-type couples complete with the compulsory Pete Doherty hats.

I hesitated for a second when I ordered as I wanted to try their supposedly excellent mezze however I couldn't see chicken liver on the menu so I went for a lamb shawerma wrap and a Coke.

On the van display there were stacks of ready made Arabic bread wraps ready to be reheated in a sandwich press. I assumed these were the chicken shish and kafta sandwiches they have on the menu. All pre prepared since there was no sign of a charcoal grill or smoke indicating freshly grilled meat. 

P.S. I absolutely hate this recent trend of serving Lebanese food. Whoever popularised this style needs to be banned from the restaurant trade (see the equally mediocre Comptoir Libanais).

I felt sorry for the poor soles, knowing no better, who would end up eating pre-cooked reheated sandwiches. I, however, will enjoy a freshly made delicious Shawerma sandwich. After all the shawerma was being cooked on site. The meat looked nice a crispy on the rotating spit. 

Or that what I thought!

Not in a million year I would have imagined somebody would actually pre-prepare shawerma sandwiches and stack them on the display to be heated and served to paying costumers.

One of the best things about shawerma is the contrast between the meat and the other component of the sandwich. Crispy meat with smoky over caramelised edges against the cool tahini sauce and sharp pickles. Needless to say this was completely lost in Yalla Yalla crime against shawerma. meat was stodgy with uniform bland texture. Tomatoes were completely cooked. And to top it all up, cucumber pickles were hotter, much hotter, than the meat.

For the life of me I can't understand why they decided to serve shawerma this way. There is no excuse apart from laziness to explain it. The meat was there cooked and ready to go, the chef was hanging around doing something or the other, and I ended up eating such an awful sandwich made from meat cooked the morning or a week earlier. Who knows!

To give credit when credit is due, the Toum sauce served with the shawerma was great. Absulotely spot on.

For a place that describes itself as achingly hip (double cringe) it needs to do a lot better. London has some of the best street food in the world. Yalla Yalla doesn't need to look so far for clues. The fantastic Big Apple Hot Dogs is just up the street. Or may be pay a visit to White Cross Street market to see how its done. Hundreds of people descends on the food market at lunch hour. All happily fed freshly made food despite the queues going around the corner.

Yalla Yalla Shoreditch pop up restaurant doesn't belong to the vibrant London street food scene. It belongs to food court at Lakeside shopping centre.


Green Nuts


We Damascenes have a special love relation with green, sour and unripe nuts and fruits. Come April, hundreds of street vendors walk around the city pushing carts piled with Ouja (عوجة). Ouja are sour green almonds picked way before the flesh turns into the familiar wooden shell of almonds. The fruit is sour, crunchy with a furry skin. They are usually eaten dipped in salt. Sour and salty, perfect representation of Damascene taste.


Green pistachios are another firm favourite of people of Damascus. They come into season in last August, early September. Once again the city streets are full of sellers. In contrast to Ouja, green pistachios are not sold on carts. Instead sellers usually make temporary bases mainly around the roads leading to Al-Rabwa. The nuts come in a red soft shell once peeled a more familiar pistachio nut emerges. These are not sour but a rather soft and delicate version of the dried variety. If you decided to try these be warned they are extremely addictive. And after a long evening with a huge bowl of green pistachios you finger tips and nails will have a deep dark stain that might stay for a couple of days.

Ful Nabit, Damascus favourite snack.


I went to a boys only high school back in Damascus. I had a great group of friends, ten of us, stuck together like conjoined twins. If one wants to buy a jeans all ten of us went to buy that jeans. If one needed a haircut we all went for a hair cut. One of the greatest characters in that group was Issam. This guy lives his life in slow motion. He talked slowly, laughed slowly and responded slowly but he had an edge to him. He was completely care free. He didn't care about school, didn't care if he gets in trouble, didn't care about teachers and didn't care about his family. Nothing on Earth seems to worry or trouble him.

In our tenth grade as part of biology studies, we had to keep a notebook. We did home work, extra curricular activities, biology drawings and stuff like that. You work on this book all through the year and you hand it towards the end of the semester to be marked. Our friend Issam didn't keep one and the day before the books were due to be handed he decided to borrow Abed's (another friend) book to copy it.

We left school and Issam decided to stop at the food seller on the corner to eat some
Ful Nabit. Loads of kids were gathered around the Ful cart, somebody played a stupid joke, scuffle broke out and, true to form, my friend Issam dropped Abed's book in the large simmering ful pot.

We had such a good laugh the following day when we saw the hard crispy pages of the book. Even our biology teacher was in stitches when he heard the story. The only one who was not laughing was Abed especially when the marks came out few days later.


One of the best features of Damascus food scene is the endless number of street sellers offering all kinds of delicious snacks. On every corner of every street a man pushing a cart full of delicious grub. Food on offer changes according to the season. Mulberry juice, green almond, green plums, grilled chestnuts, corn on the cob boiled or grilled, Ma'arouk (sweet filled pastry), sugar cane, Tamari (thin rolls with grape molasses spread), prickly pears, and the list goes on and on. One snack in particular out-sells all others and is available all year round,
Ful Nabit.

Ful is Arabic for broad beans or fava beans. I had a long think on how to spell it in English. I would have chosen "fool" as that how we pronounce in Syria but I usually stick with wikipedia spelling. They used "ful".

Ful Nabit is boiled fava beans served with salt and cumin. The seller cart will have huge pot with the beans slowly simmering. The beans are served in a
proper glass or china bowls rather than paper wrap or a plastic plate, which I find adds a nice touch. to the experience. You usually get a glass of the cooking stock and half a lemon to accompany your ful. The cooking stock flavoured with salt , cumin and a squeeze of lemon makes a delicious (but not at all pretty) side drink.

Here is how to make Ful Nabit:

Dry fava beans 300g
Salt
Ground cumin

Soak the beans in plenty of cold water over night. Drain the beans and add to a pot with more cold water. Bring to boil then lower the heat and let simmer for about 90 minutes.

Cooking time will vary depending of the beans size and type so make sure you check the beans every once in a while. If you can squeeze the flesh out of the skin like a paste then you are ready.

To eat, bite the tip of the bean off and dip in salt and cumin. Squeeze the flesh into your mouth and discard the hard skin. It is not very sightly but it is delicious and truly addictive.