Ghengis Khan, Sapporo, Japan, July 2016

I had never eaten so much lamb since going on the infamous Kebab Crawl in the balmy summer of 1998 with Prawn Phan-which and TT Boy Ozdemir. Armed with a fistful of my Mum's pocket money and my golden Turkish phrase, "ajeser bol ulson lutfen" (phonetically spelt and allegedly translated as "lay down extra smackdown [on my kebab]"), I believe we put away three kebabs. That equates to three meals on the lash. The third kebab, however, was a Gazza so that doesn't even count as a lamb kebab. Anyway, it is all about the memories. You won't see any of these anecdotes in The Dim Sum Diary...

Trying to get a table in Kessel Hall at the Sapporo Beer Museum was an effort. Japanese are notorious for not being able to say "no". Asking whether we could stuff our faces in Kessel Hall was replied with a "yes, but it is fully booked for the evening". So, it should have been a "no". But it ended up being a "yes" as we were led to the famous Kessel Hall.

Kessel Hall: The closest I will come to
experiencing the inhospitable atmosphere
of Venus

Kessel Hall is meant to be modelled on a German beer hall. Not sure about that. I would describe Kessel Hall more as somewhere to crucify a vegan. Inside, the mist of atmospheric oily lamb juice clings to you like Martin Keown. My eyes stung from mutton sweat as I put on the token paper bib to protect you from the oil splatter while grilling. The deal is essentially grilling the slices of lamb on a bed of vegetable and eating as much as you can until you turn Turkish. The best part of the meal was the sauce that you dip the meat in to break up the relentless taste of lamb.

Not much to say about the lamb except that I had devoured enough to live a lifetime of exoduses from Egypt. The most interesting part of the meal, however, was that you could buy small bottles of perfume to mask the essence of kebab in case you are joining an Animal Liberation Front rally later. A part of me wishes that I had tried this alchemy but in the end I am glad I did not induce an olfactory bulb seizure.

Passover lamb for infinite exoduses

Following the ordeal I was certain I had genetically fused with a lamb as I felt I was locked inside a mutton air lock for days. I am sure I could have wrapped myself in a pita bread, cuddled up to some salad, bathed myself in yoghurt, laid down extra heat and served myself at Jason's Doner Van for £2.50.





The Ho Down says: Stick to what you do you what you do best, Ghengis, and invade China