This is, essentially, a kebab for pussies. (Not literally; I imagine that would be disgusting.) It does, however, feel like a slightly more worthy option than its no doubt horsemeat-beriddled cousin, and I come to you now with a couple observations regarding a specimen purchased circa 11:30pm on a Saturday from a very friendly and accommodating outlet in High Barnet. For those of you who don’t know it, it’s the mystical place at the top of the Northern Line.
(1) Being referred to as ‘Yes Boss’ makes me feel like some kind of colonial slavemaster. Whilst some may revel in this feeling, I, personally, don’t.
(2) Kebabs, vegetarian or otherwise, are a surprisingly difficult thing to pull of successfully. Ideally one would want the salad to stay proportional to the main filling right the way through consumption, so that the last mouthful contains filling, salad and bread in a ratio of roughly 2:1:1, but this almost never happens. In reality, the salad is piled on top, such that to get to the main body of the dish you have to wade through it. By the time you get to any carbohydrate, the salad has in all likelihood largely disappeared. My suggestion would be to mix up the filling WITH the salad prior to putting it in the bread. I have never seen this done before, and I suspect that the world is not yet ready for it. I would patent it but I’m scared I’ll be laughed at – mavericks are rarely appreciated in their own lifetimes.
My chips/salad/pita scored 6/10: one point deducted by dint of my being erroneously labelled as a ‘boss’; one point deducted because of the ‘Salad Problem’ mentioned above; and two deducted due to an unacceptable sogginess of bread.