Kebab & Samsa Osaka Shinsaibashi

Jun 20

Jun 20 Kebab & Samsa Osaka Shinsaibashi

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When I was 28, I sold my car, gave up my apartment, and reduced my belongings to a single backpack so I could travel long-term in Europe. I decided I could afford this because my writing partner and I were negotiating a big screenplay deal that would set us up work-wise for the better part of a year. However, I underestimated how long it takes to finalize screenplay deals; after nearly three months of traveling, we still hadn’t signed the deal nor gotten any of the money, and I ended up back in LA, broke and homeless until the deal went through and we finally got paid, about five months after I’d thought we would.

Those 2.5-ish months in Europe could best be described as “abject poverty.” I started with a budget of 25 Euros a day, plus 25 Euros more for lodging. That eventually dwindled to 10 Euros a day, including housing. Some places make this easier than others: in France, I could get baguettes and make one big sandwich to live off of for an entire day. At German Christmas markets, you can get a sausage for like two Euro. And in Poland, at the time at least, you could get a four-course lunch of high-end French food for like 10 bucks (my Polish friends have informed me this is no longer the case and it’s actually quite expensive there now).

Having no money, I ate a lot of kebabs. And I mean a lot. Doner, doner, doner. I fell in love with kebabs. Filling and cheap, and full of meat. Belgium had the best kebabs, and anyone who disagrees is ugly. I thought I’d tried every type of kebab or shawarma or gyro there was to be tried. But I’d never tried Uyghur kebab. I didn’t know Uyghur kebab existed. Until now.

Kebab & Samsa Silkroad Muqam

Kebab & Samsa is located east of the bustling Shinsaibashi neighborhood in Osaka. It’s sort of down a side street, and there weren’t many people there when I walked in around 7:30 or so on a Thursday night. Their name pretty much sums up what they sell: kebabs and samsa. What is samsa? It looks a bit like a samosa. It’s a pastry filled with meat. I wanted one.

Advertising “Authentic Uyghur Street Food,” the restaurant is small and quaint, just like so many kebab shops around the world. There are a few small tables and chairs, nothing fancy. You order at a machine like at a ramen shop. They have a meal deal that includes both a kebab and a samsa, along with a drink, for 1,680 yen ($10.50). That’s what I got.

The staff was really nice and friendly. They brought me an orange juice that looked more like Hi-C than orange juice, and didn’t mind my taking lots of pictures like a dumb tourist. Good for them.

What is a samsa? And how does the kebab here stack up?

First: the samsa. It was brought piping hot, a bulging, crisp pastry. The pastry itself was really good on its own, crunchy on the outside but soft and flaky on the inside. The meat had a spice flavor to it that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but brought forth a wave of nostalgia. I don’t think they have Runza where Uyghur people live, but they share some of the same qualities.

The kebab was fantastic. It was bursting with chicken, along with the ideal proportion of cabbage, cucumber, tomato, and (sigh) onions. I feared that when I got past the chicken on top, the bottom would be nothing but cabbage, but this wasn’t the case. There was chicken tucked down in there. The food wasn’t overly greasy and I didn’t feel bad about myself when I left. It was a nice meal, and a treat to try something new.

Verdict: should you check out Kebab & Samsa in Osaka?

Let’s judge the food on its own: if the samsa were a samosa, it would be good, but not the best of my life. Ditto the kebab, which was really good for Japan, maybe top two I’ve had in this country. But I don’t think it’s fair to simply say the food was good. I had never considered Uyghur food before, and now I’d gotten to try their street food spin on two dishes I thought I knew, including one I fancy myself an expert on (an expert on how to stuff it into my face, not how to make it or anything like that).

Gaining that bit of knowledge, feeling like I’d experienced a new culture, is a rare thing, especially in Shinsaibashi, where certain cuisines tend to dominate the touristy areas. I am so glad I tried this place, and would love to eat there again. If I find myself in Osaka anytime soon, that’s what I’ll do. Whether you’re a local or a tourist, consider stopping by, because this is a food I bet you haven’t tried, and you’ll be glad you did. Another big hat tip to the staff, who were super nice.