Sometimes I have a hankering for hunks of meat in a less refined style. This is not a gut reaction to the cleanliness of work (offices seem to be clean places until you realise that rats have a party when the humans go home), a certain fastidiousness of certain professions (I do work in a rather sterile environment) or a hidden desire to sink my teeth into something that a caveman would approve of. What my prehistoric ancestors would have approved of though was the way to and from my seating at FM Mangal.
This was through an extremely steep and windy ladder staircase. So only the strong would make it to the top and be able to sit down. In a Darwinian contest those less hardy would be weeded out. Only the hardy could make it. As an additional positive, it helps to reduce the strain on the kitchen.
Olives. Having survived the journey to the table, we had some olives to wet the appetite. A nice touch to tide you over until the food came. I did think about adding to the testing journey to the table by spitting olive pits at arriving diners but was dissuaded firmly against this course of action by my dining companion. They preferred to choose their time of exit rather than have it dictated to them.
Lahmacun, very thin traditional Turkish pizza covered with seasoned minced lamb and onions, fresh tomatoes, parsley and peppers. 
Pirzola, grilled tender lamb chops seasoned and served with salad and rice. Deliciously fatty and juicy (probably because it was fatty) with a welcome smoky edge, this was a good dish. The salads were fairly ordinary but the rice was not that. Bouncy and more hard than I am used to (I am a Jasmine rice consumer most days), this was well suited to mopping up the sauce.
Yogurtlu sis, grilled lamb shish with yoghurt, bread, butter & tomato sauce with rice. Something that was rather more chewy than I expected, this was more than a mouthful as I would on occasion spend an inordinate amount of time grinding this down between my molars. Thankfully, that was not an unpleasant experience as the yoghurt, tomato and butter combined to make something special.
Flat bread. These were substantially umami, i.e. they tasted like meat even those these were bread. If this was the case with more bread, I might become a vegetarian. We did wonder why it tasted this way but got our answer as we headed for the exit. These were left to warm up lying directly on meaty skewers, transference of positives here. Which maybe means that I should continue to use books as pillows, as a super market says often, every little bit helps.
After the bill was paid, some baklava also appeared as a sweet (free) goodbye. Or perhaps they were apologising that I would have to brave a rather steep incline out.
A quiet eating 8/10.
Dinner (2 course equivalent) was GBP25 excluding drinks and service.
FM Mangal
54 Camberwell Church St,
London, SE5 8QZ
