"Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Man does not live on bread alone..."
- Matthew 4.4
At the risk of repeating what has already been said, I would like to express not only my liking for Hassan's as a delicatessen, but my admiration for the men behind the counter: Hassan and his loyal team of kebab-artists.
Oxford is renowned throughout the world primarily for its kebabs and thus attracts many of the country's cleverest students. It's no wonder that it was on Broad Street in 1912 that the phrase "kebab-sharp" was coined, to describe someone of particular intelligence. Out of the influx of kebab merchants in the early 70s, one emerged the victor. Hassan's, aka The Tower of keBabel, is now the city's hub for a swift insemination of a keBaby.
With only two minor (but delicious) stains on his reputation (see appendix), Hassan remains unequaled to this very day. Some have attributed this success to his repertoire of cabaret magic tricks or his rendition of 'New York, New York' in the style of Danny DeVito (every Wednesday, 1 am), but when Hassan's trailor is inflated every evening, the delirious crowd of people are there for one thing only: a mouth full of animal, with extra cheese cuttings.
Can he cook? He can cook. Can he saute and marinade? Both of these, a thousand times yes. Can he scale great heights, convince the sceptics, woo a fair maiden with a spatula? I've seen it done.
Can he bring to the hungry children of Oxford what will fill their kebab shaped voids?
How dare you even ask.
Appendix A
In 1996 a rumour that dastardly Christ Church Overgraduates controlled the local kebab market and were lacing the chips with an intelligence-lowering form of asbestos was quashed, but left a shadow of paranoia over the town for at least a fortnight. A brief flirtation with the marketability of quail's eggs was equally damaging. read more