Waiter, there's chips in my kebab!

I first tried a genuine 'Gyros' kebab when I was 13, on the first of many family holidays to Greece. Like the pornographic playing cards on sale in every souvenir shop, it blew my young and impressionable mind.

Of course, I was already very familiar with the sort of doner kebabs we had in London, lurking at the seedy and disreputable end of the food chain. Dodgy meat of unknown origin, with the same 'elephant leg' sometimes going around and around for days; tired salads; bland and slightly stale pitta breads; often run by Turkish Cypriots or their descendents, reliant on an undiscerning late-night customer base.

I should say that I actually didn't mind them as an occasional dubious treat, even as a non-inebriated 13 year old. But this was a whole world apart from the kebabs I knew. It looked similar - the meat came from a vertical spit, there was bread and salad - and yet it was so very different. And I can still remember that day.

Chips with everything

Hellenic goodness in every bite

The bread was round and puffy, delicate and soft, yet crispy from the press and it tasted oh so fresh. The meat was way tastier than any doner I'd ever had and mixed up with finely chopped salad and yoghurt and garlic. Oh, and there were chips in it! A few random fries poking out of my meat wrap. It was truly a handheld delight.

If recollection serves, there was a little hut on the beach in Aegina that served them. We discovered it a couple of days in to the holiday - the perfect lunchtime snack.

And it turned out not to be a one-off. On a day trip to Athens we found a really dingy place in a side street behind a metro station selling them - the shop front didn't look much, but the gyros was probably even better than the ones on the beach.

That was 33 years ago. But for one reason or another, Gyros has never really become a widespread thing over here. We get the standard UK kebab takeaways where the elephant legs haven't improved much since 1990. More recently we've had more opportunities to eat Lebanese shawarma, which is generally much better, and a treat in its own right. Then Boxpark Croydon gave us a 'Greek on the Street' outlet that actually served gyros. Happy days.

And now, just a few miles down the road from me, is Santorini Gyro, in Purley. I've been going there for post-pub gyros quite a bit. It's very good.

As it happens

Santorini is one of the Greek islands I haven't actually visited (well, there are so many of them!) but if it's anything like the ones I have been to, you won't struggle to find good food. I've no idea if it's specifically known for its gyros, but even if it isn't, I'm willing to buy into the fantasy when I'm in Purley!

It's located right opposite the 'town centre' entrance to Purley rail station, making it easy to find and convenient. It's independent and family run, open every evening except Monday. Everything is prepared fresh to order, and you can see it before your eyes. What's not to like?

There are a couple of tables outside, which I suppose you could use for on-site dining, but it's essentially takeaway only. And that's fine. That's exactly how gyros places in Greece worked and it feeds into the nostalgia for me. (Though Purley isn't exactly a secluded bay on Lefkas, I'm sure it's picturesque in its own way...)

You spin me right round

The menu is pretty straightforward, and I'd really recommend choosing the chicken or lamb gyros, and have it the way Greeks do with the toppings that come as standard.

Don't expect fiery heat. Chilli sauce is not the norm on a gyros. Instead prepare yourself for the garlicky yoghurt tang of homemade tzatiki, which melds beautifully into the meat, the bread, the salad and even the crunchy fries.  It's a combination that just works so well.

It's good value too. At 6 quid a pop for a decent-sized lamb or chicken gyros, loaded with everything (including fries) you really can't argue with it. If you require extra, a box of fries (with oregano, Greek style) is only £2. 

We've also tried one of their mixed grill boxes, with different kinds of souvlaki, and the salad, sauces and bread all separate. It's tasty enough, but just lacks the wow factor of the gyros where the flavours all merge together, and it's not as good value.

They also do a cheesy thing, with two flatbreads sandwiched together, full of cheese and gyros meat. This didn't quite hit the mark for me, but would be great if you like melty cheese, I suppose.

Talking of cheese, if you're of the meat-free persuasion they do Haloumi and Falafel wraps, which, presumably, come with all the rest of the gubbins that makes the gyros so special. And if you're thirsty you can get a little bottle of a strange sour cherry drink that's really quite pleasant.

Overall it's a great addition to the area and really quite different from most of the takeaway kebab options you'll be used to. For about 20 English pounds (or whatever the equivalent is in Drachma) a couple can have a gyros each, extra chips and some pop. 

I wouldn't argue with that.

 

Where to find it...

Santorini Gyro
3 Whytecliffe Road South,
Purley
CR8 2AA (map)

 

Happy Orval Day!

Today, 26 March, is apparently 'Orval Day', which is a happy coincidence as I'd been meaning to write a few words on the subject for a while.

Actually I've been meaning to drink some Orval for a while. It's been too long.

Now I've been a fan of Orval since I first sampled it on my 17th birthday, which was a worryingly long time ago. But here's the thing...

The greatest of all Trappist beers?

Beer aficionados tend to divide into two distinct camps. There are those who, like me, think Orval is the greatest of all the Belgian Trappist ales, but there are many who consider it second-rate in comparison to Chimay, Westmalle, Westvleteren; pretty much all the others. I've even heard it said that it's 'not really a proper Trappist beer'. And it's true that it's quite stylistically different to the others and a bit of an outlier.

I suspect that - amongst those informed enough to take a view - those of us who express a preference for Orval are in the minority, but there are a fair few of us.

And I think what it comes down to is whether one actually really likes the 'proper' Trappist ales or not. I have to admit that I don't, particularly. I've never enjoyed the spicy, herby, clovey, bananary sweetness of Dubbels, Tripels and Quads. I could happily get through life without ever having another bottle of Rochefort 8 or Chimay Gold. I can appreciate these beers being well made, while just not personally liking the features imparted by the yeast that helped make them.

But I like Orval because it has less of the characteristics of Trappst and Abbey beers that put me off. It's hoppier, livelier, more sessionable, more quenching and sports aromatics more in line with what you'd expect from the New World than an old monastery. 

I like that it's 'only' 6.2% ABV (though it's bottled-conditioned and may consequently strengthen over time). I like the freshness on the nose, like a subtle waft of incense. I like the dry hoppiness that comes through in the finish.

So that's an explanation of sorts - Orval is the Trappist beer for those who don't especially enjoy Trappist beers. Which sounds like damnage with faint praise, though that's really not my intention.

If you've never tried Orval, give it a go - particularly if you think you don't like Belgian strong ales. It's lighter and weaker and drier and less classically Belgian.

And it has possibly the coolest glass of any beer ever!

Half a dozen things that should definitely be a thing

A few ideas that have corrupted my thought processes of late: 

So good for you

1. Late night samosa shops. Wouldn't that be just the best thing? After a few pints to be able to have a couple of hot samosas, served 'open' in paper and ready to eat, maybe with some spicy chips and mint sauce or chutney to go with. Yeah, I know you could technically go to an Indian restaurant and order a takeaway consisting solely of samosas, but you'd have to wait at least 15 minutes and it's not really the same thing as what I'm suggesting. 
2. Bring back smoking indoors. I was watching the 1984 film version of 1984 the other day, and in the most oppressive, Authoritarian society ever conceived John Hurt's Winston is routinely allowed to smoke, pretty much wherever he goes. There should not be any measures whereby we are less free than the occupants of Oceania. But clearly there are.
   
3. Real brands on TV. Come on, it's just not true to life that nobody in the world of televisual fiction ever asks for a product by name. The world isn't going to explode if somebody goes into the Queen Vic and asks for 'two pints of Landlord, a bottle of Peroni and a Blackcurrent J20', are they? They could even mention their plans to get a Colonel's Variety Bucket on the way home. A regular could remark that 'the Harvey's was drinking well that evening'. Yeah, I know it's 'Product Placement'. So fucking what? That's about the least intrusive form of advertising there is - compare it to trying to play a free game on your phone! The TV producers could recoup a little money from those who make the products and it would add to the realism. Win win win all round. 'Oh, and a packet of Scampi Fries please'. 
4. Cask Orval. That is all.
5. Talking of Scampi Fries, bring back Cheese Moments to complete the Holy Trinity, along with Bacon Fries. And Brannigans Beer Nuts while we're at it. And the original Phileas Fogg line. I get that regular crisps are probably a bit better than they were when I was a child, but so many good snacks from the 80s and 90s are gone. I'm sure I've banged on about this before, but they still haven't brought the fuckers back, have they?
   
6. Deep fried cucumber sandwiches. Battered, obviously. Only the 'cucumber' is thin slices of gherkin. That would be amazing.

Golden Pints: BV's best beers of 2022

Are 'Golden Pints' still a thing? Is beer blogging still a thing? Are things being a thing still a thing?

In my case, the answer to all these questions is 'just barely'. If that.

Indeed, it's probably not unreasonable to suggest that I fell somewhat out of love with beer during 2022 - a combination of beers being indifferent and me being clinically depressed.

I haven't blogged a whole lot either and even coming up with a handful of words to describe a beer for an Untappd check-in sometimes feels like too much effort. Again, it's probably the depression for the most part. Mopey old Ben, fishing for pity as usual.

But it's a new year and so I'll try to squeeze something out about my favourite brews of 2022. After all, with all the breweries that have shut up shop lately a positive word about beer might go a long way. Or it might not.

Bass is just another beer

The sad loss of our Queen last month will have affected different people in different ways.

For me, it brought about a rather shameful realisation. Specifically, about the Corgis.

You see, I had assumed, for my entire life, that having Corgis as pets was just what the monarch did - a bit like sitting on a throne or owning the Crown Jewels. Corgis went with the job.

Queen. Throne. Jewels. Corgis. 

This I learned from an early age, probably about four or five, but it was never explained to me that liking a certain breed of dog just happened to be a personal preference of the individual who was currently the Queen, and given that the reigning monarch never actually changed, I carried on with this assumption until, quite literally, just the other day.

I genuinely didn't realise that they were unique to Elizabeth II.

BV London Pub of the Year 2021-22 - the results

As the returning officer for the constituency of London Pub of the Year 2021-22 I hereby declare the top five pubs in this years competition are as follows:

(If you haven't yet familiarised yourselves with the eight contenders - the 'ballot paper', if you will, you may possibly want read parts one and two where I review the pubs. And avert your eyes because the results are coming up.)

After an enforced three-year break, this years competition has been a fascinating one. It's Truss vs Sunak all over again, only this time Badenoch wins. Or something.

Anyhow, let's crack the fuck on...

GBBF 2022: Hello, old friend!

Three years is a long time in beer. 

With the 2020 and 2021 Great British Beer Festivals successively cancelled due to some sort of 'pandemic' or other, it's been a long time to wait, but last week the agony of waiting was finally over. GBBF came back!

I first attended the GBBF in 1994 and have been back every year since, so it's pretty much a part of my DNA now, and I've seen it change and evolve gradually over the years.

I particularly enjoyed myself in 2018, and 2019 wasn't bad either, but following two years of missing out, even a terrible GBBF would've been good, if that makes sense.