Is the Kebab really Turkish?

Arguably, the Kebab Shop can no longer be considered a Turkish intrusion because it it has been transformed to fit the British palate. The original Kebab served quite a rudimentary purpose; a simply constructed fuel dispensed to the common labourer out of a hole-in-the-wall establishment. All this changed once the Kebab landed on gloomy British soil in the 1940s. Slowly, the Kebab shop became bastardized. The traditional Roomali Roti bread morphed into a tortilla, the lamb began to be wrapped in bacon (avant-garde pigs-in-blanket?), and the mint yogurt swapped for a strawberry jelly sprinkled on top. Though, in my humble opinion, a scandal, this reworked “kebab” even won the category of Best Newcomer in the famed British Kebab Awards (Wood). This means that, despite being so far detached from their Turkish counterparts, these parodies have successfully re-appropriated the name of the Doner Kebab, and more widely the Anglo-Tukish culinary scene as a whole. Hence, many argue that this mass adulteration means that it cannot be the cultural origin of the Kebab that allows it to translate well into English society. The British Kebab is, unironically, British; the characteristics we changed when adopting it into our culture is what appeals to us, and what has ingrained the Kebab Shop in our lives. But, couldn’t this bastardization be proof of the fortitude by which the Kebab entered the British food market?