“Cheeky Kebabs: How Shawarma Shops are Colonizing British High Streets”

Brace yourselves, dearest Britons, for a grievous, truly shocking revelation that could shatter your perception of reality and make you question your love for onion bhajis.

This writer has delved into the darkest, most insidious corners of our beloved Britain and unearthed an uncanny infiltration that threatens our classic culinary heritage to its very bone marrow (and beef). What’s this diabolical scheme, you ask?

Shawarma shops. Yes, you read that right. Walk around any block, and you’ll find these half-donkey, half-chicken spinning atrocities calling out to you with their smoky vapours.

“The Secret Shawarma Threat”

Once confined to backstreets and low-key food markets, these cheeky skewers of mystery meat are now ambling onto our main streets, pushing aside quintessentially British establishments like the classic pie and mash shops, the noble fish and chips counters (the national treasures), and the hallowed institutions where one can relish a good old-fashioned digestive biscuit and a cuppa.

Why, just the other day, Hilda Fletcher’s Tea Roomonal, that repository of patriotic, twinings-endorsed cultural heritage, was gagged and shunted into oblivion by a Halal Nibblerz (some call them SnackHaji, despite the notable absence of a single hajj-visiting Egyptian among their staff).

“Fenugreek to you, too, mate!”

Blokes and gals pop in hoping to savour fine Yorkshire pudding, only to be confronted with a battalion of squeezable sauces that sound like an exotic kaleidoscope of screams: pomegranate molasses, tahini, zhug, toum, and open your nasal cavities, harissa!

• Those quaint “chip” butties? Up against the meaty monstrosity of a shawarma wrap.
• Want a pint? Sorry, chap, but all they have are mystifying “Ayran” and “Tahn” – whatever they are!
• And just try finding a simple biscuit to dunk into your tea! In the era of Baklava, Ma’amoul and Basbousa, you’re on a sticky (sweet) wicket there.

“Cuisine Invasion or Sensational Evolution?”

Despite the fear-mongering, the more discerning (read: adventurous) of you may argue that perhaps, just perhaps, these new flavours are not symbols of doom and despair. But rather, a gastronomic evolution. Alas! Such are the naïve notions of those trusting souls who’ve been ensnared by the silken smoothness of houmous and the buttery crunch of pistachio baklava.

“The Direct Doner Action Plan”

Dear compatriots, it’s high time we reclaim our stomachs! It’s time to respectfully show these culinary colonisers what Hope and Glory taste like. Our mission? A good ol’ Direct Doner Action Plan:

• Revive your grandmother’s mince pie recipe.
• Master Gordon Ramsay’s Beef Wellington, chicken tikka notwithstanding.
• Create your scone guild, crumpet cooperative, and pudding posse.
• Return to your Cornish pasties, English breakfasts and – heaven forbid – Marmite toast!

So, arm yourselves with a fresh cucumber sandwich, a pot of sturdy English tea, and a soldierly scone. We march at the crack of dawn, straight past the Shawarma Palace, around the corner from Falafel Farm, and meet outside battered Bennett’s Fish ‘n’ Chips shop. British gastronomy awaits its saviours! Godspeed, compatriots, godspeed!