Gyro, part 3
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"Turkey’s döner kebab spat with Germany is turning nasty", by Daniel Thorpe, The Spectator (10/5/24)
Last April, German president Frank-Walter Steinmeier decided to bring along a 60-kilogram döner kebab on his state visit to Turkey. It did not go down well. Turks found the stunt condescending; Germans were mortified. Ankara lodged an official request with the European Commission to make the dish a ‘traditional speciality’, thereby regulating what can be sold under the name ‘döner’ in Europe.
It's not just a culinary matter — it's political, cultural, and technical:
Though seemingly rather mundane, the latest disagreement over the classification of döner kebab indicates there is little love lost between the two capitals. Turkey aims to standardise and dictate through the European Commission what can be sold as döner kebab, breaking it down to the finest details, such as the meat composition, pH value, salt content, and the thickness of the slices that come off. German politicians and business owners, including those of Turkish background, are not happy.
I don't blame them — döner kebab has become a central element in German culture, especially among youth, but because of the garlic sauce and raw onions, you'd better be careful about when you eat it:
Today, the döner kebab is the most popular fast food in Germany, even more than the godforsaken currywurst. A German village so small that it does not even have a pub might still have a döner kebab eatery. It was introduced by the Turkish migrant workers in the 1960s and 1970s. As often happens with dishes cooked far from their motherlands, the döner kebab started to be prepared in ways different from the ‘original’, catering to local tastes with the available ingredients.
Customers are not too concerned about shops having to sell the product under different names, such as Greek gyros or Arabic shawarma, What really grates is the rising cost of a döner kebab:
‘A few years ago, the price of a döner kebab was around four euros. Now you pay up to eight-thirteen euros,’ [Niko Schmitz] laments. Schmitz is not alone. ‘I’m paying eight euros for a döner,’ a protestor shouted at chancellor Olaf Sholz in 2022. ‘Speak with Putin, please. I want to pay four euros for a döner.’
A brief note on the history of the mouth-watering snack:
The döner itself can be traced back to the early 19th century Ottoman Empire, when someone had the ingenious idea of flipping the existing horizontal stack of marinated meat on an iron rod vertically. Turning the rotisserie upright not only saved much of the juices and fat from dripping into the fire but also rendered it more suitable for urban spaces.
Where is all this headed? Over such contentious issues as those being argued about by the German and Turkish governments, the product may branch into different varieties, and the plethora of names for them will undoubtedly continue to proliferate.
Selected readings
- "Gyro" (6/26/20)
- "Gyro, part 2" (9/28/24)
- "Teen attacked by kebab van" (9/5/12)
- "Nontrivial script fail" (5/18/11) — 7th comment
- "'Ingenious herd of charcoal fire'" (4/5/11)
- "Why Do Canadians Eat Donair?" (4/13/07)
- "If you're uneducated you say it right" (2/2/09) — in the comments
- "Ajvar and caviar" (8/1/22)
- "Respect the local pronunciation: runza and Henri" (6/13/24)
[Thanks to Mark Metcalf]
Philip Taylor said,
October 7, 2024 @ 6:08 am
"The thickness of the slices" — how the h@ll do they hope to regulate that ?!
S Frankel said,
October 7, 2024 @ 6:13 am
Well, for one thing in Turkey, döner and kebab (Turkish spelling: kebap) are two different things. Döner is the sliced meat turning on a spit. Kebap is the skewered meat chunks (or veggies or whatever) resting horizontally on a grill. 'Döner kebab' makes about as much sense as 'taco sandwich'.
Peter B. Golden said,
October 7, 2024 @ 9:06 am
Döner kebap has a range of local variants in Turkey (e.g. İskender Kebap, aka Uludağ Kebap). As a grad student in Ankara (1960s), I used to go to a restaurant that specialized only in Uludağ Kebap= döner on top of pide surrounded by a tomato-based sauce and yogurt. One ordered the dish by size: bir ("one"), the average size, bir buçuk (one and a half), iki ('two"), and for the truly heroic iki bučuk (two and a half). It was customarily washed down with "ayran," a yogurt-based drink. The Iranians make a fermented version of it دوغ (dūgh).
German Dziebel said,
October 7, 2024 @ 10:11 am
hello @Victor Mair, I actually would like to leave a comment at the "PIE *gene- *gwen-" post from August 10, 2023. Is it possible to re-open the comments for that oldish post? Thank you!
Peter Grubtal said,
October 7, 2024 @ 11:41 am
What I lament about them is that nowadays they're virtually all made with turkey meat, and it seems impossible to find one of lamb.
Jonathan Smith said,
October 7, 2024 @ 3:40 pm
Re: 'turning' in the article title I C U Daniel Thorpe. But why not, ya know, 'turning juicy'?
Martin Schwartz said,
October 8, 2024 @ 12:01 am
A colossal "kebap", like coals to Newcastle
is schlepped to Turkey–oh, what a hassle!
Did Steinmeier think, "the bigger the better"?
so Ankara fumed–ach, Dönerwetter!!
Martin Schwartz
Benjamin E. Orsatti said,
October 8, 2024 @ 8:16 am
I feel like there should be an award for "Best Quadrilingual Gustatory Limerick", and I think Martin S. should get that award (although I hear the panel is still accepting submissions).
It's funny, this cultural-linguistic phenomenon of staking an onomastic claim to food according to the exporting culture's original paradigm (e.g., is it possible to order an "authentic" cheesesteak in Philly without "wiz"?).
But I think it only works if the importing culture hasn't actually improved on the original, and that's why Americans still get to call the delicious dessert we make "pie". The English, you see (close the browser tab, Philip T., you're not going to like this), had this monstrous thing called "pye", and they assembled it by sweeping up whatever offal, beaks, hooves, sawdust, etc., happened to be lying around, and then dumping the mass into a nearly-indigestible baked flour sack to preserve for the next time famine hit and you'd already eaten your shoes, saddle, belt, and family pets.
But then we got our hands on it, thinned the crust, filled it with fruit and sugar, and, voilà, we gave the world "pie".
You're welcome.
Philip Taylor said,
October 8, 2024 @ 11:42 am
Oh no, Sir, the English would never eat their pets. The rest rings true, however, and I regularly make steak-and-kidney pye to this day …
Benjamin E. Orsatti said,
October 8, 2024 @ 12:58 pm
Funny story about eating pets (I wonder how many times that phrase has been uttered?), but in the opposite direction: My great-grandfather once brought home a goat for Easter, but, since they lived in Penn Hills and not the Apennine mountains, he couldn't keep it outside, so he tied it to a pole in the basement. As it happened, my dad and uncle — both little 'uns at the time — took a shine to the doomed caprine and inveighed upon the immigrant tailor to spare the beast and maybe go see the butcher for a few lamb roasts instead. And that's how they got Josephine the housegoat!
tsts said,
October 8, 2024 @ 9:35 pm
Next time the Turkish President visits Brooklyn, he should swing by "Kotti Berliner Döner Kebab". Now with 6 locations. Sure he will love it …