When I was a kid prowling the mean streets of Sydney’s outer western suburbs in the early 80s, our options for takeaway food were somewhat limited. Fighting makes you hungry, but there’s only so much fish ‘n’ chips, lemon chicken and pizza a girl can tolerate.
I discovered kebabs one semi-sober sunrise in the very early 90s, though the spongy mystery meat wrapped in dry pita bread was a world away from the magic joints like Istanbul in North Perth are making today.
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