Istanbul Kebab House Sliema — Restaurant in Sliema

Beware of deliberate overcharging scrutinise you bill before paying. We were rudily served during a quiet period in the day by possibly the son of the owner (guy in his 35yrs tall with black hair & no smiles) who has a personality problem. The guy threw impatiently a pitta bread onto the grill without even asking for our order. I asked him to remove it until we could decide what we wanted. We then placed our order and ate in the shop. We a lamb mix Chicken Swarma as a take-away. Which was deliberately overchared by €10.00 when we scrutinised our bill before paying. I asked the wrap to include the meat only with the salad garnish fillung and sauce to be separate. They overcharged by charging us the cost of a salad €5.00 and for separate 2 sauces @ €3.50 each = €12.00 overcharged. Beware and check your bill. The Kebab wrap our food was good. But deliberate overcharging is THEFT..no matter what...

No tourist should support a reastaurant where the staff is connected with that idiots that drive with 100kmh through the small streets of Malta, using their cars like weapons and riscing the life of people. I have seen yesterday (around 20:00) a big highspeeding car, stopping for a few seconds in front of that Kebab House. The staff saluted (like military) the driver, and then he continued his race with squealing tires. I will not eat there anymore. Guys like that should be kicked out of Malta! But even in Turkey they are not welcome I guess. It is a shame that the owners advertise that the place is children-friendly, when their friends use cars like guns. I went dircetly from the rstaurant to the police, after I finished eating. I went directly frrom the restaurant...

Beauty and The Grease. As the damp fog of watery mixers and local product clears, dregs of last night return. Their names long gone , my boys of Istanbul kebab house command the frontier of my thoughts. Welcoming me through my their locked doors in the early hours and providing refuge for my squadrant. How could they know how much I needed this ? The fryers off, the cabinet clear and still a desire to accommodate. Unheard of. Let alone tolerating my drunken caucasian rambling and rewarding my fragile psyche with gifts of baclava. This isn’t about kebabs. It was never about kebabs. Raw human connection in dinghy grease-joints is the light that...