I Swapped “Duck & Waffle” for “Döner & Chips” in Old Street, London. It Was Worth It.
Getting turned down by Duck & Waffle over dress code in the late evening turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
“I know it’s our graduation day but I have a coach to catch. Congrats guys! See you when I’m officially unemployed.”
Bidding farewell to my course mates, I left the campus as I was heading to London with my family. It was in the evening when we left Southampton.
Knowing that we won’t be arriving in London till the late evening, I made a reservation for Duck & Waffle — the only time slot which allowed me to make a last minute reservation.
Arriving in Victoria Coach Station, the rain was pouring down and we were waiting for an Uber driver, while carrying four heavy luggages, to pick us up. When the driver finally arrived, I started feeling apprehensive as it was an UberX instead of UberXL. The last thing I wanted to hear was “you have to book another ride”, under this pouring rain.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he didn’t turn us down. Instead, he got down from his car and helped us to carry the luggages into the trunk.
We headed to our Airbnb apartment in Shoreditch. I thought it’d be better if we were to leave right after checking in to avoid losing our reservation in the restaurant.
“Let’s just go now! I don’t want to lose my table there. They’re pretty strict with punctuality.” I warned my parents to be on time while being completely unaware that there was something else we had to be worried about.
Arriving at the front door to the Heron Tower, where Duck & Waffle is located, we immediately saw the glass elevator which allows the visitors to admire the stunning view of the city of London. Before they arrive at the 40th floor for a contemporary take on the classic chicken and waffles — fried duck paired with waffles.
As I was explaining to my parents about us having to take an elevator ride for forty floors, we noticed that the door to the elevator was guarded by a “gatekeeper” and a pair of artificial fire lamps. I took a step towards the “gatekeeper” to validate my reservation. He looked friendly initially when he stopped us to check my reservation. In just a split second, I noticed a snobbish smirk hiding beneath him.
“Our dress code is defined as ‘Casual Elegance’. We welcome and encourage style, however, we kindly ask that guests refrain from wearing athletic trainers or ripped jeans at all times.”
“What does it say here?” he pointed his finger towards the Dress Code section in the reservation email while insinuating that we looked like a group of outlandish tourists.
It turned out he had intended to close the door on us as soon as he set his sight on us — more precisely, our outfits. I was rocking a pair of Yeezy’s and my parents were rocking their timeless fashion piece — ultimate dad shoes.
From the email, it read “Our dress code is defined as ‘Casual Elegance’. We welcome and encourage style, however, we kindly ask that guests refrain from wearing athletic trainers or ripped jeans at all times.”
“So yea, bye bye!” he waved us off with a wry smile.
While my parents were perplexed, I wasn’t. I was au fait with the British demarcation of dress codes for some restaurants and bars. It wasn’t the first time I had been turned down from entering a venue due to the same exact demarcation. I wasn’t allowed to enter a club once because I was wearing an Adidas Originals “athletic” sweaters. As much as I had “reprimanded” it throughout my university years, I just accepted the quaint old British dress code custom that time.
Nevertheless, I was unabashed with my choice of outfit, so do my parents. More so, we were unembarrassed at the predicament despite the rejection. Growing up, I remember my parents’ predilection for street food and disdain towards restaurants. While we would go to a restaurant for a celebration from time to time, my dad always has a knack for following it up with a street food feast afterwards. More often than not, I could notice my dad squirming in his chair whenever we dine in a restaurant, connoting his discontent on fancy dinners.
Therefore, I wasn’t surprised by their insouciance towards having a late dinner which consists of the pairing of fried duck and waffles and a view of the London skylines. Moreover, they were impervious to the sardonic “Bye bye” given by the “gatekeeper”.
In hindsight, I should’ve felt exasperated that our dinner plan was ruined after a long tiring evening just because of an idiosyncratic British custom. I should’ve been baffled by the fact that we missed out having a meal while enjoying a mesmerising view of the city of London from the 40th floor. Ultimately, their indifference assuaged the frustration of getting turned down by a restaurant in the late evening. Moreover, the place we ended up for the late dinner was more memorable than it would’ve been in Duck & Waffle — albeit with a less elegant view.
In spite of their brazen attitude towards the rejection, we were still facing a daunting task of finding a proper place for dinner just before midnight. The last meal we had was at my university’s cafeteria before my graduation ceremony.
However, thanks to the fact that we were in East London — and the East London in me, the idea of going to a Turkish Kebab shop came to my mind intuitively.
“Let’s go for Kebab!” I suggested to my parents with exuberance.
And, that’s how we ended up in one of my favourite Kebab shops in London — Best Mangal in Old Street.
In contrast to exasperation, I realised I was more elated to have the grimy Chicken Döner and Chips and the flavourful Lamb Köfte Kebab over rice with my family. The Chicken Döner and Chips is just the typical messy street food in which uni students could never have enough. And for the Lamb Köfte, the heavily seasoned minced lamb on skewers has its salient gamey-ness yet it’s perfectly balanced with a myriad of spices.
Evidently, visiting a Kebab shop in the late night delineates my British experience as a student in the UK. When I first moved to Southampton for uni (and when my adeptness in cooking was subpar), I used to order takeout from the Kebab shop downstairs — two or three times a week. It didn’t take long before I learned that Döner and Chips are more of an emblem of the British fast food scene — even more so than the infamous British Fish and Chips.
“Even when he ran out of the restaurant to remind me that I’ve left my bag, he shouted “Apa khabar” a few times to stop me from leaving.”
I could still remember vividly my first Turkish Kebab experience in Uni Kebab, which is located right at Burgess Road, next to the University of Southampton main campus. I recall how tender and juicy the Chicken Döner was in my first trip. And, I remember how I was acquainted with the owner of Uni Kebab, Aziz.
“Apa khabar? (How’s it going?)” Aziz greeted me with the typical Malay greeting during my first visit to the restaurant.
I still have no knowledge why he immediately knew that I was a Malaysian. And, I’ve noticed that he would greet some of my other Malaysian Chinese friends with “ni hao”. Somehow, I was always the exception. Whatever the reason was, he’d call me “Apa khabar” on every visit without asking for my name. Even when he ran out of the restaurant to remind me that I’ve left my bag, he shouted “Apa khabar” a few times to stop me from leaving.
While Uni Kebab might not serve the best Kebab I’ve tasted, it became one of my favourite lunch spots. For the rest of the year, the Lamb Shish over rice became a regular part of my lunch menu in addition to the Döner and Chips. Needless to say, it became the place where I first discovered the nuances in flavours of different Kebabs. And over the years, I would discover more and more amazing flavours in various different renditions of the meat on skewers. Best Mangal in London and Hasir in Berlin are the two remarkable examples of the mind-blowing flavours I’ve discovered throughout my experience in Europe.
Nevertheless, my fascination with — not limited to Döner — Kebabs, which accumulated throughout my British and European experience, was exactly the reason why having this dinner with my family in Best Mangal was a more memorable experience.
“However, for Kebab enthusiast like myself, we eventually learned how to finish everything at once and enjoy the “food hangover” that comes after.”
When the Chicken Döner with a mountain of chips arrived, my parents were startled at the portion served to us. But for us, it was just another regular meal in a Kebab shop. The best part of Döner and Chips is that it would indubitably eliminate your hunger while you would still have enough to save for brunch the next morning. That’s the exact reason why Döner and Chips are inextricably epochs of the British university experience. However, for Kebab enthusiast like myself, we eventually learned how to finish everything at once and enjoy the “food hangover” that comes after.
Then, the Lamb Köfte was served with a surfeit of rice and both white sauce and chilli sauce. My parents were particularly impressed with the Lamb Köfte, despite their distaste towards lamb. However, it wasn’t the Kebab which convinced them. It was the surfeit of rice and the chilli sauce which taste awfully akin to the vinegary chilli sauce found in Hainanese Chicken Rice. At that very moment, I’ve fulfilled my duty as both a tour guide and a son — at least for the night.
However, just as we were wrapping up, my parents gave an unsurprising review on Best Mangal.
“It’s not bad. It’s better than the last Kebab we had in Birmingham when you brother graduated. But, they are quite expensive. A plate costs about £9.”
Are you interested in more stories like this? You could connect with me via Twitter or Instagram.
Or, you could check out my writing portfolio.
