I am the eater of your childhood legends

Just outside of my train station, a doner kebab van sets up camp at sunset each night, luring me in with its delicious Turkish fast food crack cocaine.  Really, although doner kebabs are not so popular in Japan, these are as good as any I’ve tried anywhere.

The various guys running the stall (a small van, actually) always have interesting stories.  Always foreigners, so far I’ve counted an Iranian, two Russians and an Indian at various times.  I had a good chat last night to my Indian kebab-making friend about the IPL.  He won’t watch because he’s convinced that cricket is ruined forever by bookmakers and match-fixing.  Then we talked about how much we hated / envied world-famous sports stars for having oodles of cash while cashing their blank moral cheques.  Now, there’s something we can all agree on all around the world.

At any rate, my favourite kebab van recently got a great new advertising sign out the front:

The amusing bit is on the third line.  In Japan, bread is called pan (an imported word from Dutch or Portuguese trading days, as far as I’ve heard).  At this store, they serve the kebabs in a pita bread.  Put it together and you’ll find that you’re in fact eating…. pita pan.

I usually like to follow up with a healthy Lost Boys salad with low-fat dressing.  Delicious.

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