Doner touch our kebabs: the evolution of Australia’s unique ‘meal in a wrap’

<span>Kebab pioneer Muammer Tüysüz at his kebab stall at Sydney’s Flemington Markets in about 1976.</span><span>Photograph: Blake Sharp-Wiggins/The Guardian</span>
Kebab pioneer Muammer Tüysüz at his kebab stall at Sydney’s Flemington Markets in about 1976.Photograph: Blake Sharp-Wiggins/The Guardian

Ox Sahin sighs as he begins his first review of a kebab on TikTok.

“I don’t want to do this, I really don’t. But I have to. I speak for the whole kebab industry when I say, if you take a shot at us, someone is going to clap back.”

Sahin is reviewing a new food truck in Sydney that’s offering “Berlin-style” kebabs, which he says differ significantly from a “Sydney-style” kebab, and a trend the kebab-shop owner says should be resisted.

He’s scathing in his review of the Berlin kebab, saying the “bread’s too thick” and that there is “too much sauce”.

The review set off something of a firestorm in the kebab world, attracting nearly half a million views and more than 1,200 comments, and sparked a state-wide odyssey for Sahin. He has now committed to review every kebab shop in New South Wales, in an attempt to prove how far-reaching and consistent – not to mention delicious – the stores are.

He estimates there are more than 2,000 kebab shops across the state, and by Thursday had reached 38 of them. At his current pace, he estimates he would need 6.5 years to reach them all.

“I wanted to show people that we are a quiet giant in the hospitality industry, I wanted to show people that there are more kebab shops here than there are any other major chain,” Sahin tells Guardian Australia.

“And I want to show how important we are to the food scene in this state.”

Sahin wants to prove that the Sydney-style of kebab is more than just a late-night gimmick or an oily mess – but a food staple across the state.

He’s also opened the door to a conversation about the Australian-Turkish community’s unique place among the many migrant communities in the country.

‘The kebab is 100% a multicultural cuisine’

“Our Sydney kebab, it’s a classic, it’s so simple. Doner meat is wrapped in Lebanese bread or Greek pita. And then you have lettuce, tomato, onion, sometimes tabouli, and sauces like barbecue, garlic or chilli,” explains Sahin.

“A Berlin-style kebab usually comes in much thicker bread, almost like a burger,” he says. “And they add things like pickled cabbage, they have a specific spicy sauce, it’s just different.”

Both styles represent the journeys of their respective Turkish diasporas, an example of diverging styles and tastes, changed by the act of migration itself.

The doner kebab was brought to Australia by Turkish migrants, who began opening shops as early as the 1980s. And while there is little conclusive data, the community does claim to own a majority of kebab shops around the country.

Sahin says that the Sydney-style kebab is heavily influenced by other migrant communities in Australia, whether through the use of Lebanese bread and tabouli, or through condiments like barbecue sauce.

“Our kebab here is a concoction of all these cultures coming together in Australia. And the kebab is 100% a multicultural cuisine, it takes from everyone around it.

“This style of kebab is iconic, it’s unique in the world, and is a trusted food in Australia. You can’t get something like that in Turkey, or from other diasporas.”

The “Berlin-style” kebab was developed in Germany in 1972, and is also an adaptation of a Turkish doner kebab, differing significantly again to what is offered in Turkey today – which usually includes less vegetables or sauce.

Turkish immigrants to West Berlin in the 1970s popularised the sandwich, which has become a staple of Berlin’s street-food culture.

And just like in Australia, they took slices of the culture around them to formulate something unique to their new home.

From humble beginnings

The earliest known Turkish migrants arrived in Australia as part of the cameleers that serviced South Australia’s pastoral industry between 1860 and 1900, with numbers picking up in the late 60s, growing to nearly 19,000 by 1974.

Around this time, a man named Muammer Tüysüz arrived in Australia with his family and only US$20 in his pocket.

Tüysüz had worked in catering for the Turkish prime minister, and around 1974 attended a wedding in Australia that served doner kebabs. This got him thinking, and two years later, he imported his own machines and began operating a mobile kebab shop out the back of his station wagon.

His daughter, Melek Tüysüz, says this made him the first person to sell kebabs in Australia.

“He operated out of old Chinatown in Haymarket, in Sydney. It grew so popular, he then turned it into a truck that operated out of Flemington Markets weekly.”

Soon after, Tüysüz began operating at events like the Easter Show, where the sandwich exploded in popularity, and his business expanded rapidly.

“I remember people just standing and watching the cooking process, and asking what it was, and how it worked? They would just stand and stare.”

Advertised at the time as a “meal in a wrap”, it began first as just meat, lettuce, tomato and onion, with no sauce. Melek said sauce was only added later.

Tüysüz won various awards for his food, winning “best food outlet” at the Sydney Easter Show for four consecutive years in the early 1990s. He would go on to cater at major events such as the Sydney Olympics, AFL and NRL matches and music festivals.

Melek pauses as she goes through old photos of her father standing proudly outside his food truck in the 1980s.

“This generation of migrants, these people that came to this country with nothing in their pockets, they built the communities we have now,’” she says.

“He had limited English, but he was never shy. He made this out of nothing, and changed the landscape of Australian cuisine, almost by himself. Maybe people don’t remember, but I remember.”

‘This is about migrants and their struggle for survival’

Dr Lutfiye Ali, a lecturer in Community Psychology at Victoria University, says opening a kebab shop was often the easiest way for migrants with limited English – and whose skills weren’t recognised in Australia – to make money.

She says the “dream of a better life was shaped by racism in that economic opportunities and employment were limited for some migrants, so they capitalised on their skills to produce and to contribute to the social fabric around them”.

“This is about migrants and their struggle for survival.”

Ali says the proliferation of kebab shops represented a search for safety, comfort and financial stability for the migrant generation who were establishing themselves for the benefits of the next generation.

She said the unique qualities of the Sydney-style kebab reflected this survival instinct, reshaping their traditions to the tastes of a new market.

“They needed to make adjustments, but they’ve kept the essence of it.

“In many ways, these cultural expressions are a response to marginalisation. They are making the best of the difficult situations they found themselves in.”

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