Slipping into smug mode here
but the best keebabs i've ever had, were made by my own fair hand. Chicken and lamb, marinaded for 3 days in my own tasty marinade, although I think it was the roasted/caramalised onions, peppers and mushrooms what did it. Topped with lashings of homemade tzatziki and salsa I was oscillating with delight as I finished because I could see a mound of bbq'd flesh still waiting to be feasted upon. Bring on the summer, so I can roll myself out the back garden and bar-b-cancer myself into wobbler heaven.

You definitely seem to be in a take away food hotspot Monty, what with those hash munchies i'm surprised you're not morbidly obese.
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 16:22, 2 replies, latest was 15 years ago)

yeah I chop up and marinade leftover sunday roast in garlic, chillis, onion and tomatoes for a day
or so then serve in a wrap with greek yoghurt and ketchup - is very nice!
(bazmorningstar efil4nat3b, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 16:24, Reply)

It's foodie heaven in my neighbourhood...
Every Saturday, if I can drag myself 50 yards up the street, there's a farmers' market with African Stews, hog roasts, whole spitroasted organic chickens etc, as well as dozens of gourmet deli stalls - all right next to that Belgian beer specialist pub.

A little further up the street is a gorgeous Victorian park with a large pub in the middle, with open decking all around it, overlooking the greenery. It's fucking great.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 16:32, Reply)

Bloody foreigners with their 'ways'.
They are killing the great British chip shop and making real ale a thing of the past.

(If anyone from The Mail is reading please Gaz me with a job offer.)
(Tugnut Ex of this parish, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 16:35, Reply)

Bloody darkies
Everywhere i look, its kebab shop this Indian take away that. The Great British Fish and Chip Shop is at the very centre of what made this country great. Good, honest, healthy and above all BRITISH, these chip shops were the backbone of our family life. Now it's all fucking Kormas and Burkas, goodbye chip shops, goodbye Britain.


Weeping with impotent rage and stinking of Mazola, Derby
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 16:43, Reply)

Hahaha
I forgot to mention the 100-year old pie and mash shop that's opposite the pub.

I forgot, because it's so fucking shit. It looks amazing but the pies are, quite literally I suspect, bollocks.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 16:45, Reply)

Mate, that sounds fucking lush
Friday, Jah Shaka. Saturday, hog roast, Belgian beer and verdant vistas. Expect a knock at the door during the Summer from a drunken Scotsman :)
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 16:46, Reply)

You are absolutely welcome whenever you so wish.

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 16:48, Reply)

My good man, what a generous offer.
An offer you may live to regret however. Scottish vomit is notoriously difficult to get out of carpets.
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 17:21, Reply)

Wooden floors thoughout, old bean.
I've had a 6'8" Swiss black man throw up ALL OVER my flat once, once you've seen that very little can scare you...
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 17:28, Reply)

Excellent foresight there my good man.
And that truly is a LOT of black man to be vomiting all over the place. I assume he made a good job of covering all surfaces? I hope your cat escaped the fountain of effluence.
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 17:39, Reply)

That was a fucking HILARIOUS night
He actually got stuck in my lavatory (it's like a cubicle) because he was so pissed and so enormously tall he couldn't turn round to get out, so he spewed all over himself and the wall and was there, trapped and eventually unconscious.

We had been to see a band of squatters from Bristol that evening, whose singer was a dwarf in a top hat.

Magic.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 17:41, Reply)

Top larks
Lucky he trapped himself in an easy to clean cupboard, also lucky you didn't need to release any dirty spine.

So just to recap, you went to see a band of squatters, with a midget in, accompanied by a 6'8" Swiss negro? If that night didn't end with someone vomitting themselves unconscious, then I would have been disappointed.
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 17:52, Reply)

That's about the size of it, yes.
In the gig some chap spilled my pal's drink and was litterally shaking with fear (he had no idea my pal is the epitome of 'gentle giant') - he bought us all a round and gave my mate a half-ounce chunk of soap bar to apologise.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 18:06, Reply)

A half ounce of soapbar
Well that explains the vomiting then ;-)
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 4 Feb 2010, 19:18, Reply)