#beef kababs

[indischwindisch]

Mummy's Shami Kabab

Want to get the perfect shami kababs every time? This is the recipe to follow.

Crispy from the outside, soft from inside. My mummy’s shami kababs are unbeatable. My mummy’s shami kababs are famous with the whole extended family. What’s special about her kababs is that they are moist from inside and have a crispy outer layer. The texture is soft and the spices are just on point. 5 mistakes to avoid when making shami kababs Wrong ratio of beef and chana daal: For good…

[diceraw]

Cuisine - Indian - Shami Kabab (Bun Kabab)

[freshlyfoods]

Unleash the flavor sensation with our Beef Sheeh Kabab! Each bite is a journey into tenderness and taste, making it the ideal choice for your restaurant's culinary showcase. Contact us, Call: +971 4 880 2727 Call: +971 4 880 2772 Visit: www.freshlyfoodservice.com

[christinedominguezarts]

Shami Kabab Bun Kabab Recipe

The traditional Indian flavors of garlic, ginger, cumin, coriander, and garam masala are used to season these crisp, golden beef and dal patties.

[oni28]

July 2024 Recipe_Kabab koobideh

[Recipe Information]

※ Need Recipe Pack Mod Latest Version (24.07.08 version) ※

Kabab koobideh

1, 4, 8 serve

Category : Grill

Cooking Level_05

Lactose-Free. Kabab koobideh is an Iranian type of kofta kabab made from ground lamb or beef, often mixed with ground pepper and chopped onions.

Required Ingredients for 1 serve : Any Rice(1), Any Meat(1)

Required Ingredients for 4 serve : Any Rice(2), Any Meat(2), Tomato(1), Saffron(1)

Required Ingredients for 8 serve : Any Rice(3), Any Meat(3), Tomato(2), Saffron(1)

Lots challenge 'Simple Living' Compatible

Group Cooking Compatible

All ingredients are optional

Any Rice need SCCO MOD

[Language]

Korean (by_oni)

English (by_oni)

📌T.O.U

-Don’t re-upload

(Latest patch compatible)

👩‍👩‍👧‍👦 Public Released on August 3rd, 2024 (KST)

DL(Patreon)

[jamneuromain]

No Use Running

Andy Barber x You / Reader

Warning: NON-CON/DUB-CON, Dark Content, Smut, Angst and Smut, Alternate Universe - College / University, Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor!Andy Barber, Student!Reader, Student!You, Clit Stimulation, Pet Names (Angel), Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Overstimulation, Angst, Angst With A Happy Ending, Dark!Andy Barber, sex toys, vibrator, bondage element

Word count: ~4k

Summary: What are you going to do when Andy is mad at you?

A/N: Big shout out to vera @rogerswifesblog and her amazing moodboard, both help me tremendously with the conversation in bold, also help me spiral a thought into a 4k smut. Fair warning, lots of angst, which surprises me, really, because I was mostly thinking of the smut when talking to vera (sorry not sorry XD).

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

A year into your relationship, Andy has only one rule for you.

One rule, and one rule only.

Don’t get drunk when you are partying with your friends. If you are partying, tell him beforehand in case he gets worried about you not coming home.

Just this one rule. Don’t get drunk, call him first.

Simple as that.

In your defense… face it, you have no defense. You screwed up. Big time.

You were so excited about the little getaway your friends planned (and told you about it the minute your last class of the semester ended “we’re partying tonight guuuuuuurl”) that you completely forgot about the rule of “calling Andy”, and happily got yourself more than tipsy.

“More than tipsy”. That’s an understatement. Your very last memory about the night was you doing shots with your friends. You find yourself in the shared home of you and Andy in the next morning, lying comfortably in bed with a minor migraine and fresh PJs, trying to remember what had happened.

Tipsy? You were wasted.

Knowing Andy? If he was home last night, he’d be so mad.

You search for your phone around your pillow, finally locating it on the other side of the bed, linked to the charger.

Your gut sinks to the bottom of your stomach. You’d charge your phone on your side. Your phone is now on Andy’s side.

Oh no.

Oh nonononono.

This is bad.

This is very bad.

This is Godzilla versus King Kong bad.

You can honestly hear every ounce of your luck shatters when you turn on your phone and a dozen missed calls from Andy pop up, dating back to last night and this early morning.

Holy fucking shit.

You are doomed.

Andy has already left because he has a full schedule today.

You frown as your phone gone cold. There was no message asking whether you have woken up. No sticky notes on your forehead as usual if you are sleeping late, telling you that he left a sandwich for you in the fridge. No nothing.

He’s really mad.

You frown more when you find excessive food in the fridge. Some leftover beef stew, chicken kabab, and a whole lemon cheesecake. That’s strange. Andy’s not the type to cook excessively.

And no sandwich.

You make yourself some food to eat and clean the house for a bit.

Your memory pieces some fragments together. You remember stumbling into Andy on the porch. You remember dancing in the club, raising your shot glass, and giggling with your friends.

Your memory is still incoherent and you don’t know what happened exactly.

You vacuum the living room, read for your upcoming assignment, and finally, you decide to cook dinner to show that you are sorry.

Leaping up when you hear his car pull up in the front, rushing to the door to welcome him home: “Hey Andy. How’s your day?”

Andy has a large box under his arm, which you pipe up to help him carry it and put it anywhere he wants.

“Just an average day.” He pecks you on your lips, insisting he carries this on his own. You are nervous as hell when he doesn’t smile, not even after kissing you.

You peek at the box, can’t help but ask as you see the black tape circling the cardboard box: “Amazon? What did you buy?”

“Nothing important.” He shrugs, heading up the stairs with the big box.

Maybe he’s not that mad?

You cross your fingers, hoping that everything works out with luck on your side.

Dinner is as uneventful. However, you can feel that he is distracted and uncharacteristically quiet. Andy used to say what he doesn’t want or what he doesn’t like. He’s vocal about your relationship, but this new Andy is so lukewarm that it is scary to you.

You choose to cuddle on the couch after dinner, playing a Netflix show as background noise on TV.

“I’m sorry about last night, Andy. I should’ve called you. I’m sorry.” You loop his arm around your shoulders, looking up at him apologetically, “and I shouldn’t get caught up partying either. I wouldn’t do that ever after.”

Something flickers in his eyes that you cannot catch. In the end, he says nothing, only tightening his grip on your arm, leaning for a kiss.

You rather wish he spanked you or edge you, just like what he did with your previous few wrong-doings. It wasn’t fun but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. You’d rather have him cuddling you after rough sex than to have him ... distant?

You deserve it, to be honest, you know he’d be angry with you.

You only are aware of how angry he is the second you step into the bedroom.

He is fixing the four cuffs tied to the bed, black leather with shiny metal chains. The now-empty Amazon delivery box lies wide open on the floor, giving you the slightest clue of what could have been inside.

Spoiler alert, you didn’t have cuffs in this house. He used to tie you up with his ties.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Andy smiles, for the first time today. He unbuttoned his cuff link and his collar to adjust the length of the metal chains. This normally looks extra hot to you, but knowing what could be waiting for you, you just want to run.

You carefully take a sneaky step back, “umm, Andy, I know you are mad. And I’m so very sorry.” Another step back. “But we can talk this out.” Another step. “Pl-Please don’t be mad?”

Andy rests his hands on his hips, his blue eyes icy cold.

“Sit on the bed, Angel.”

“Andy-” You visibly gulp, tensing all the muscles in your body so that you can dash to the stairs the second he drops down his guard.

“Don’t make me fuckin’ repeat that.” He shoots back at you.

You are going to die on the bed for all you know. You are going to be edged to the brink of your life. A chill runs down your spine, every sense in your body warning you of the menacing danger you are faced with.

“Please, Andy, we can talk this out, I’m begging you.” You plead to him, slowly dragging your feet to the door instead of the bed, “please, Andy.”

Your fight or flight response kicks in the second he prances on you. Of course, you choose to run from him.

You barely make it to the stairs when he grabs your wrist and halts you by your waist, clutching your body so tight like you are a prey struggling for its life. Your heart nearly leaps out of your throat. Your body, although unwillingly, clings to him for dear life, fearing that he slips and drops you on the floor.

“Andy, please! I’m so sorry! I won’t do it again!” You yelp when he throws you onto the bed. You try to sit up when he clasps your ankle with one cuff, you are forced to lie down when he clasps your wrist with another cuff.

“Can’t believe you even tried to run - save it, Angel. You’re in for a long night.” He huffs disapprovingly.

Clasp. Clasp. All your limbs are secured and tied up. He didn’t even bother to take off your nightdress, only pulls your panties to your ankles.

You think it couldn’t be worse.

Oh but it did.

He takes the vibrating wand from the bedside drawer and loosens his belt.

You watch in horror as he fastens his black leather belt around your thighs, squeezing the wand between your legs, where it nestles on your clit.

“Andy-”

“See, Angel, I was planning to hold that wand myself,” he kisses your forehead. The darkness seeps back into his eyes. With a flick of the remote on his phone, the wand buzzes to life. A warm grin on his face, he retreats to the corner of the room, where he sits on a chair and opens his laptop, “too bad I need to work first.”

The vibration is low yet brutal. It triggers your body into moving your hips to avoid it, not that there is much space to move. Without his kisses and skilled fingers working your body, your pleasure builds up high and dry, your skin heats up reluctantly, seeking the attention it deserves.

“Andy-” You choke when your squirming accidentally has the wand brush your clit again, “please, I’m sorry.”

He glances at your frame briefly; his eyes soon return to his laptop. Crispy strokes from the keypad seem to be mocking your fruitless begging.

Your core twists in agony. It doesn’t take much to force an orgasm out of you.

“Pleaaase, Andy, please don’t edge me.” You whisper, moaning when the stimulation to your clit brings a fresh wave of arousal pooling down your pussy. Your channel expects his shaft, but you get nothing. Tide riding higher in your veins, rushing to your core, you are on the verge of cumming any second.

He raises his head from the laptop, a smirk curls his lips when he dials the vibration up a notch.

“Andy-!”

The buzzing grows louder, no longer a soft vibration, but a stronger torture to your clit.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t cum.” He buries himself back into his “work”, his calm voice ghosts your ear, “you can cum as many times as you want. You’ve got all night, Angel.”

Your hips buck into the air, pressing your clit tightly on the wand, drawing the first orgasm out of you. Your body bounces on the bed as the orgasm hits you, doing all it can to run from the incessant stimulation on your clit. You wish you could run, but you are chained to the bed,

“Andy, please.” You cry out, tears rolling down from the corner of your eyes, “I-fuck-I said I’m sorry!”

The loud snap when he shuts his laptop makes you shiver.

“The thing is,” Andy sits perfectly still, he watches you writhing on the bed as the second orgasm builds up, "I don’t think you are." His tone barely contains his anger, “bet you totally forget about what yesterday was, huh?”

“Wha-”

“It was supposed to be our one-year relationship anniversary.”

Your brain stops working altogether.

Oh no. It was.

You started dating around this time last year.

You didn’t think you were doing an anniversary this early. If you are counting from the day you became boyfriend and girlfriend, you are two months away from your anniverisary.

“I cooked for candle-lit dinner and bought roses and shit, and what did you repay me with?” He crosses his arm and scoffs, “no texts. No calls. Get fuckin’ drunk with boys.”

Your mind clears its fog, letting you remember you stumbling into Andy while waving goodbye to Mike (or Michael?), who volunteered to uber you home when you were all getting “tipsy”.

“It’s nothing-He just-oh fuck, he just came along to make sure I got home. I’m sorry.” You whimper, your sentence cut off as you feel arousal leak from your pussy, “I’m really sorry about-ah-what you planned. Please, please stop the wand and we can talk.”

His words drip with sarcasm, “and I’m just a poor old fool who thought I could capture a young girl’s heart.” Andy snorts, “that work out well.”

Even as pleasure gradually clouds your brain, you understood what he said and a pang of pain rips your heart to shreds. If you knew about his plan, no, if you remembered, or thought about your anniversary, it wouldn’t end up with both of you in agony.

This is all your fault.

“No, Andy,” you croak, trying to ignore the buzz between your legs, “don’t say that.” It’s not true. I love you.

Andy doesn’t reply to your pleading, his cold expression molded on his face again, “you asked me to be ‘thoroughly fucked’.”

You did, trying to peel him out of his black T-shirt, trying to have him kiss you, saying tons of things that you utterly regret now.

“You wanted it last night, no? Wish granted.” Andy growls, “now take it.”

He turns up the vibration again.

If the previous vibration was barely endurable, this time it is way beyond what you can handle.

You cum with a scream, tugging the chains with your tied-up legs. The rattling of the chains doesn’t stop when you finish cumming. You jolt and kick, as the buzz is incessant on your clit, and you are on your way to your third orgasm.

“Andy, I’m sorry.” You whimper, “it hurts.”

“I don’t give a shit.” Andy picks up a book on the table, glancing at you one last time before he shuts his mouth and starts reading.

Another orgasm hits. And another. You can’t tell what hurts more, your swollen clit or his indifference. You scream and plead, stammering between moans and words, some of them mumble into one. Your skin is coated by a sheen of sweat. Your body reacts to the wand with overruling pleasure above your mind, having you think of nothing but the sensation from your bundle of nerves. And then it starts to hurt. With every second of the wand between your thighs, your mind cannot decide if it wants more or to get away from the stimulation. Another orgasm punches all the air from your lungs. Your cry is silent, mouth agape, tears roll into streams, your body refuses for you to breathe in, running low in oxygen that your vision has spots.

The stimulation between your legs dials down to a full stop.

You draw in a lung full of air. Coughing as you feel your chest is about to explode.

Your body buzzes. Or your clit still feels the buzz ghosting your legs. Your pussy twitches, quivering as it feels cold, soaked with your arousal. Your chest rises and falls, your heart pounding by your ear, your vision blurry with tears.

You want to curl up to your side. Your body is stressing as if it has just run a marathon.

The tugging from your wrists and ankles reminds you, you can’t.

A pillow is stuffed under your head, helping you to breathe a little.

You blink a few times before you make out it’s Andy sitting by the edge of the bed.

He held your head, bringing a cup to your lips.

You swallow on instinct, nearly choking yourself when you are taking big gulps of water.     

“…?”

His lips open and close, saying something that doesn’t make sense to you.

Or your ears are ringing so that you can’t hear.

“Wha-?”

“Still talking, I see.” He nods nonchalantly, “do you need more water?”

You shake your head.

He takes the cup, standing up to leave.

“Wa-ait!” You tug the chains desperately, trying to get a hold of him, “Sorr-sorry.” You sniff, “can’t. Can’t cum.” You realize how hoarse your voice is when you open your mouth to speak, like someone rubbed it on sandpaper. You feel sorry. You are sorry. You do. You just can’t do this anymore. Even if you are not screaming, your body is screaming bloody murder.

“Shhh, just a little bit more.” Andy coos, turning up the vibration again.

“No. No-!”

Andy watches as you make a mess on your shared bed over and over again. Your mumbling pleas and begs melt into crying and screaming. Arching your hips as your body reflexes, even though it adds to your misery. Your orgasm hits stronger and slower every time, lasting longer, depriving you of your breathing. You lean your head to the side, panting, struggling. Not out of your will, but when your body instructs you to.

Your thighs flex instinctively when he sits down and caress your buzzing thighs, which are still bound together.

“Don’t think about anything.” He bends down to kiss your belly, coated in sweat. His beard scratching your sensitive skin, having your core tensing once again. “Talk to me, Angel.”

Your brain is clouded. Hearing his voice, you mumble something that you don’t recognize yourself.

“Do you want this to stop?” His voice sounds muffled. Blocked. Like speaking, but with cotton in your ears.

But you understand.

“No-No-hmph.”

Your brain mushed. It hurts. You want more. Keep it going. Till the end of time.

Andy chuckles.

He dials the vibration down to a full stop. You, however, cry out again, one word slurring into another, “More. Want-more.”

He turns a deaf ear to your begging, unclasping his belt to reveal your thighs, having the belt digging into them so hard that leaves a red mark on both of them.

You burst into tears when he pulls the wand out between your legs. Your hips bucking for more pain and pleasure.

The wand is wet. From your arousal and your sweat.

Andy drops the wand to the side, unclasping the restraints on your ankles.

“More…” you whimper like a wounded animal, “more, Andy.”

Andy pries your legs open. Red marks from the wand between your thighs. A puddle of creamy arousal underneath you. Your legs shaking, trembling. Your pussy is red, swollen, covered in slick. Your clit puffy, peeking out from your pussy lips.

“More.” You mewl, as if that’s your whole vocabulary, “more.”

Andy kisses the red marks on your thighs gently, “you like that, huh?”

“Yes. More, Andy.”

Tears stain your cheek but you are about to cry again. Anything to have the wand back. To have something stimulate you to orgasm. Anything to stimulate you, burn your body with pleasure.

This is what he’s been waiting for. To overstimulate you until you are truly overwhelmed with pleasure. You will want more pleasure you can take until you pass out. You will agree to anything for it. Most importantly, you will want him again.

He unclasps your wrists too, prying your legs open more to touch your clit.

“Yesyesyes.” You grind your abused pussy to his hand eagerly, whimpering when he draws his hand back.

“My Angel…” He sighs, stripping himself out of his suit and trousers. His thick shaft straining in his boxers when you moaned and cried. He kneels on the bed, positioning himself between your thighs, hovering above you to kiss you, “my beautiful Angel. You’re mine.”

He sheathes himself in entirely at the last word, having you cry out. Having you moan his name. Having you digging your nails into his arm.

Your walls grip him. Sucking him in. Welcoming him with warm wet heat. Your walls crave his cock, craving to be filled to the brim again, craving the stretch and burn as you try to accommodate him.

The pain blends into your pleasure. You can’t tell them apart. His cock brushing your clit on his way out. Your walls convulse. Him slamming back in to rearrange your guts. Your walls clench down. He takes your long-ignored nipples into his mouth, sucking and tugging with his lips. You could only sob because of how good it feels.

You want more. You want him. You want his tip kissing your cervix.

“Say it.” He grits his teeth and spits out, “say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours.” You chant as he knocks the breath out of your lungs, his shaft thrusting deeper, harder.

“That’s right, Angel.” He snaps his hips into you, “you’re fuckin’ mine. I’m the only person who can make you feel this good.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, pinning your arm next to your head.

You stutter his name when you cum, your vision blacks out, everything is slowed down to a halt. You feel a few more thrusts, and his hot spent flood your pussy.

Then you drift to a dreamless sleep.

Your arms hurt. Your legs hurt. Your stomach hurts.

There’s not a fine muscle left on your body.

You curl yourself into a ball, facing the opposite direction of Andy, wincing as you hug your knee.

Your pussy hurts too. Sore and tired from the orgasms ripped out of your body.

Your eyes are dry as if the Sandman blinded you, but you still shed a couple tears onto the pillow. Some of them traveled across your nose bridge and blended into the tears from your other eye.

You can’t believe he overstimulated you. You can’t believe he punished you so hard for disobeying one rule. Most importantly, you can’t believe he had no faith in your relationship. After the class, after the drama with Laurie, after his participation and encouragement in your writing, he means everything to you.

The heartbreak from last night catches up to you, piercing your chest, so painful that you couldn’t breathe.

You open your mouth to ease the pressure of your puffy nose, but the pain just follows your breath like a knife, slashing everywhere it could reach.

You try to cry as subtly and quietly as you can, but your shaking body betrays you, having Andy push himself on his elbow to rub your arm.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s just a bad dream.” He whispers softly.

He notices you are not responding, leaning closer to check on you: “Shit.”

He grabs the Kleenex box, places it in front of you, and moves to spoon your naked body, kissing your bare shoulder: “I’m sorry, Angel. I’m such an asshole.” Kiss. “I’m sorry. I pushed too far.” Kiss. “Please don’t cry, Angel.”

“I got too angry over the night before and…” he sighs, “I’m sorry I lashed out at you.”

“How can you say that?” You turn abruptly, staring at him with watery eyes, tears falling from your cheeks. You can almost hear your spine crack for turning so fast, “how can you say that like you mean nothing to me? Like I’m some gold-digging bitch exploiting you?”

“Angel, I-”

“You mean the world to me, Andy.” I love you. “You are everything I write, you are every reason I come home to, you are every piece of my heart.” I love you. “And I…”

Maybe it’s your insecurities. Maybe it’s the unsuccessful marriage of Andy and Laurie. Maybe it’s your stories that you are certain every hero and heroine would be the perfect match for each other, but you can’t be certain in real life.

You would return Andy’s excessive interpretation in class right back to his face. You would challenge him academically in his office. But you suddenly feel your tongue way too heavy to say the simple word, “love”.

Andy hears your silence.

Andy cups your chin, having you look him in the eye.

Andy, as a writer, knows there are a million ways of interpreting this silence, but choose not to.

He chooses to look at your bed hair, your puffy nose, your teary eyes, carving every detail into his memory.

He wipes the tears from your cheek.

“I love you, Andy.”

[cloudyspider]

Rereading/watching CT Story Mode Part 2. This time it's about Noel and Rachel's episodes.

Noel's story mode is both interesting and uninteresting upon revisiting it. Like it does a good job of getting her across somewhat as a somewhat ineffectual officer who has more going on with her than meets the eye. It brings to attention a few times, notably with her fight with Bang where after fighting her it felt like he was fighting with air, that makes it more apparent that she doesn't quite belong naturally in the world. Sets up that she's very good friends with Makoto and Tsubaki well. Has a good awful number of gag endings involving Litchi chasing her down to try to get her to wear cute clothes which I get but it makes me very appreciative of the later entries condensing things down to one gag ending. Feels less bloated this way. But there's not really much in terms of gaining new insight upon rereading when you've been through the whole series.

I say that at the same time though there is a scene with Noel talking about her being asked to join under Jin's squad that almost makes it sound like she was going to enter the Ikaruga Civil War but it's clearly more about the fact that Jin's squad was one of the one's that were on the frontline rather than her joining the frontline. As an aside that's less about her and more Hazama there seems to be foreshadowing that he and Terumi are separate entities even at this time when he's talking with Rachel Hazama acts confused upon seeing her before Terumi takes over at the end when she leaves to call her a "goddamn vampire." Of course Hazama could just be faking obliviousness. Also weird that he says he gonna have to report to headquarters after seeing Nu shish kabab Noel seeing how he's in reality at the top with Relius and how the timeline is soon to be terminated making it a pintless effort. Just odd.

Rachel's episode is a lot more different than what I remembered. She's a massive bitch to near everyone she meets and honestly kinda classless in behavior. Like her first fight is with Carl and it just has her straight beefing with him just because he was curious because she appeared out of nowhere because she teleported to the wrong place. It gets really bad with her treatment of Noel if she wins because she just takes Bolverk away from her if she wins and is just plain malicious to her. Makes me think that's because she's aware that Noel is the key to moving things forward while she can't so is acting out of petty jealousy in that regard. She's sort of nice with Ragna in the scenario she does beat him but is also derisively cold should he actually beat her. She's also more cordial with Kokonoe rather than the antagonism they have later on. Her interactions with Terumi here are different than how they're later on with her getting more riled up by Terumi rather than the other way around and treating him somewhat dismissively in regards to as a problem. Rather than pursue him when he does leave she just dismisses him as a non-problem for herself personally and when talking to Kokonoe she calls him "Kokonoe's old friend" which just seems really tactless especially when comparing her later on. She just comes across as largely a terrible person.

There's an odd bit in the beginning where there's focus on "the stars are moving" but I think that might've been a mistranslation referring to Takamagahara because that's what they'd refer to later in BBCS's CT Reconstruction. Or it could've been literal and astral bodies may've had a place in influencing the world in early BB lore before it got changed idk.

[saturnaftertaste]

Top 5 foods (yes ik my timing is impeccable 😌😌)

ramadan kareem bestie i hope your fasts are going well ♡ hope ur not too hungry 😩‼️

1. khausa (khow suey) -> curry + noodles + beef topped with coriander boiled eggs chips and lemon juice !!! i would sell my soul for some khausa rn 🍝💘‼️

2. BEEF BIRYANI. important for my continued survival it’s been too long i’m suffering withdrawals 😩

3. apple pie 🥧 made some last halloween and it was banger, but specifically green apple pie bc i don’t like golden delicious

4. cheesecake ! no cheesecake factory here so i make do with cheesecake ice cream 💪🏽 but it’s the only cake i like apart from devil’s food

5. basin ke kababs 😋🥰 it’s ramadan and i haven’t had any kababs i’m sad :(

[pinkaddiofficial]

Kebab (UK: /kɪˈbæb/, US: /kɪˈbɑːb/; Arabic: كباب, kabāb, [kaˈbaːb]; Turkish: kebap, [cebɑp]) or kabob (North American) is a type of cooked meat dish that originates from cuisines of the Middle East. Many variants of the category are popular around the world, including the skewered shish kebab and the doner kebab with bread.

Kebabs consist of cut up or ground meat, sometimes with vegetables and various other accompaniments according to the specific recipe. Although kebabs are typically cooked on a skewer over a fire, some kebab dishes are oven-baked in a pan, or prepared as a stew such as tas kebab.[1][2] The traditional meat for kebabs is most often lamb meat, but regional recipes may include beef, goat, chicken, fish, or even pork (depending on whether or not there are specific religious prohibitions).

History

In Ibn Sayyar al-Warraq's 10th-century Baghdadi cookbook Kitab al-Tabikh (Arabic: كتاب الطبيخ), a compendium of much of the legacy of Mesopotamian, Persian, and Arab cuisine, there are descriptions of kabāb as cut-up meat, either fried in a pan or grilled over a fire.[3]

However, while the word kebab or shish kebab may sometimes be used in English as a culinary term that refers to any type of small chunks of meat cooked on a skewer,[1] kebab is mainly associated with a diversity of meat dishes that originated in the medieval kitchens of Persia and Anatolia.[4] Though the word has ancient origins, it was popularized in the West by Turks to refer to this range of grilled and broiled meat, which may be cooked on skewers, but also as stews, meatballs, and other forms.[1][4] This cuisine has spread around the world, in parallel with Muslim influence.[1] According to Ibn Battuta, a Moroccan traveller, kebab was served in the royal houses during the Delhi Sultanate (1206–1526 CE), and even commoners would enjoy it for breakfast with naan.[5] Kebab dishes have been adopted and integrated with local cooking styles and innovations, from the now-ubiquitous doner kebab fast food, to the many variations of shish kebab, such as the satays of Southeast Asia.[1]

The word kebab likely came to English in the late 17th century from the Arabic kabāb, partly through Hindustani, Persian and Turkish.[6][7] According to linguist Sevan Nişanyan, the Turkish word kebap is also derived from the Arabic word kabāb, meaning roasted meat. It appears in Turkish texts as early as the 14th century, in Kyssa-i Yusuf (the story of Joseph), though still in the Arabic form. Nişanyan states that the word has the equivalent meaning of 'frying, burning' with kabābu in the old Akkadian language, and kbabā כבבא in Aramaic.[8] In contrast, food historian Gil Marks says that the medieval Arabic and Turkish terms were adopted from the Persian kabab, which probably derived from the Aramaic.[4]

The American Heritage Dictionary also gives a probable East Semitic root origin with the meaning of 'burn', 'char', or 'roast', from the Aramaic and Akkadian.[9] The Babylonian Talmud instructs that Temple offerings not be kabbaba (burned).[4] These words point to an origin in the prehistoric Proto-Afroasiatic language: *kab-, to burn or roast.[10]

Varieties by region

This section needs additional citations for verification. Please help improve this article by adding citations to reliable sources. Unsourced material may be challenged and removed. Find sources: "Kebab" – news · newspapers · books · scholar · JSTOR (February 2018) (Learn how and when to remove this template message)

For a list of kebab variants, see List of kebabs.

In most English-speaking countries, a kebab may be the classic shish kebab or souvlaki – small cubes of meat cooked on a skewer[1][6] – or, in North America where it is better known as gyros where as outside North America fast-food is known as doner kebab.[11][6][4] By contrast, in Indian English, Bangladeshi English, Pakistani English[12][13] and in the languages of the Middle East, other parts of Asia, and the Muslim world, a kebab is any of a wide variety of grilled meat dishes. Some dishes ultimately derived from Middle Eastern kebab may have different names in their local languages, such as the Chinese chuan.

...

There are so many words I haven't heard of before here.

[toursntripsbd]

street food in bangladesh

Street food in Bangladesh is more than just a quick bite; it's an integral part of the country's rich culture and culinary heritage. Walking through the bustling streets of Dhaka, Chittagong, or any other city, you'll find a wide array of mouthwatering dishes that offer a true taste of Bangladesh. From savory snacks to sweet treats, the variety and flavors are endless. Here's a guide to some of the most popular and delicious street foods you must try when in Bangladesh.

1.Egg Roll

Egg Rolls are a popular street food in Bangladesh, inspired by the Indian Kathi roll. A paratha (flatbread) is fried with an egg and then rolled up with a filling of spiced chicken, beef, or vegetables. It's a hearty and delicious snack that’s perfect for any time of day.

Where to try: Some of the best egg rolls can be found in areas like Banani, Gulshan, and Dhaka University.

2. Haleem

Haleem is a thick, savory porridge made from wheat, barley, lentils, and meat (usually beef or mutton). It's slow-cooked for hours to achieve a rich, creamy consistency. This dish is especially popular during Ramadan, but you can find it at street food stalls year-round.

Where to try: In Dhaka, check out the food stalls in Old Town or the famous Bismillah Kabab Ghar in Chawkbazar.

3. Pitha

While Bhapa Pitha is one type, there are various other Pithas (traditional cakes) that are popular street foods in Bangladesh, particularly during winter. Some varieties include Patishapta (crepes filled with coconut and jaggery), Chitoi Pitha, and Dudh Puli (rice dumplings in sweetened milk).

Where to try: Street vendors in winter markets, especially around the Dhaka University area and rural fairs.

4. Naan Roti with Kebab

A common sight in the evening, Naan Roti served with various types of Kebab is a hearty and flavorful street food combo. The soft, fluffy naan is often accompanied by skewers of spicy chicken, beef, or mutton kebabs, cooked over open flames.

Where to try: Head to the street food stalls in Old Dhaka or New Market for some of the best naan and kebab.

5. Mishti (Sweets)

Bangladesh is famous for its wide variety of Mishti or sweets. From Rasgulla (spongy, syrup-soaked balls) to Sandesh (milk-based sweet), the options are endless. While these are often sold in sweet shops, street vendors also sell smaller, more affordable portions.

Where to try: Some of the best sweets can be found at shops and street vendors in areas like Puran Dhaka and Chawk Bazaar.

Exploring the Street Food Scene

Bangladesh’s street food scene is vibrant and diverse, reflecting the country’s rich cultural heritage. Whether you’re in a bustling city or a quiet town, the street food will give you a taste of local life. So, next time you’re in Bangladesh, make sure to indulge in these delicious street foods for a truly authentic experience.

[worldlovetoughts]

People love to dine out in their favorite restaurant or sometimes in a new cafeteria to taste the food. All these meals are frozen and ready-made even though people love to savor it. Mandarin is one the most popular, Lebanese restaurants among other cafeterias in the center area. We also enjoy the cuisine in Mandarin Cafe.

Mutton and beef menu

This Lebanese restaurant mostly offers mutton and beef recipes like shawarma, shawarma with cheese, steak, kababs, and mergens. 

Web https://artisteology.com/blogs/lebanese-restaurant-blog/ 

Blgr https://artisteology.blogspot.com/2024/08/lebanese-restaurant.html 

Whtspp https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VafYJegHVvTWh5QaKD2z 

Thread  https://www.threads.net/@dailyroutineineurope 

Qora https://lebaneserestaurant.quora.com/ 

[itcado]

https://shahipalacenj.com/food-menu/chapli-kabab-chicken-beef/https://shahipalacenj.com/food-menu/beef-paya/

[formeryelpers]

Abu Kabab, 720 N Lake Ave, Pasadena, CA 91104

U Pick Mediterranean Café became Abu Kabab a few months ago. It’s hard to see the Abu Kabab sign at night – it still looks like the U Pick sign (they covered the old sign which, when lit, is easier to see than the sign they put over it). The owner is Greek/Lebanese.

The menu is extensive and includes crispy pita bowls (it comes with different things depending on the protein you choose), plates, wraps, salads, combo plates, appetizers, sides (hummus, shirazi salad, tabouleh), baklava, and drinks. Kabobs include lamb, beef lule, chicken lule, chicken thigh, chicken breast, salmon, and lamb chops. Non-kabob options include falafel, chicken shawarma, beef shawarma, and gyros.

Chicken shawerma wrap with a choice of one side ($17): The wrap is made with a thin pita that’s wrapped around bits of chicken shawarma, pickles, garlic sauce, tomato, and French fries. It’s a thin wrap (10 inches by 2.5 inches by 1.5 inches). It reminded me of the chicken shawarma wrap from A La Beirut (similar style). The pita is pressed to make it crispy. The chicken was moist and flavorful, plus the potent garlic sauce really hit the spot. The pickles were very good (different kinds – dill, turnip). I chose yogurt cucumber as a side and there was a lot of it – didn’t go with the sandwich but I had it later and it was very good: thick, tangy, with cucumber, and dill

Falafel plate with choice of two sides ($16) and rice (subbed salad): Mr. Froyo said it was good but (1) falafel balls were dry (good flavor, no herbs), tabouleh was a bit wet, shirazi salad was wet, and the hummus was just okay. Three thin pitas were included – that’s a lot of pita. Portions were generous.

Order at the counter. The place looks nice – like a European café. There’s parking in the back.

4 out of 5 stars

By Lolia S.