"Eating Kebabs Cures Hangovers"

A Greasy Journey Through Meat, Myths, and Medical Misinformation

Let me set the scene. It's 11:42am, your skull is doing a rave, your mouth feels like a bin chicken nested in it, and your phone contains a worrying number of texts from people with names like “Work” and “Mum.” In this fragile state, you waddle into the local like a dehydrated penguin and there he is, your mate Dave. Pint already in hand (because hydration), eyes bloodshot, face radiant with the self-confidence of a man who thinks Lucozade is a food group.

And then he says it.

“Mate… just get a kebab. Works every time. Cures hangovers, innit.”

Now, dear reader, I know we trust our mates down the pub. We’ve listened to them about football tactics, crypto investing, and how they “definitely nearly got on Love Island that one year.” But today, we embark on a noble mission, to dissect Dave’s greasy gospel and find out if kebabs truly are the holy grail of hangover cures, or just another meat-laden myth born of lager and desperation.

Chapter One: What Even Is a Hangover, Anyway?

A hangover is your body’s furious retaliation for letting you be an absolute numpty the night before. Science says it's caused by a delightful cocktail of dehydration, inflammation, low blood sugar, stomach irritation, poor sleep, and the cosmic punishment of shame. Symptoms include:

• The headache of a thousand tiny goblins

• Dry mouth that could sand wood

• Nausea with a side of regret

• The sudden urge to live in a cave forever

So what your mate is really claiming is that a sweaty tortilla of late-night mystery meat can fix all that. Bold.

Chapter Two: The Kebab—Messiah or Meat Mirage?

Ah, the kebab. Eternal friend of the tipsy. There it sits, rotating slowly in the shop window like a majestic meat lighthouse guiding drunkards home. Let’s analyse the anatomy:

• Meat: Could be lamb, chicken, beef, or a species yet unnamed by science.

• Pitta/tortilla/naan: The carbohydrate bed of dreams.

• Salad: Token gesture of health, soggy within seconds.

• Sauces: Enough garlic mayo to single-handedly fuel a vampire apocalypse.

In fairness, it does contain protein, fat, salt, and carbs, exactly the sort of things your body might crave when it’s in full DEFCON 1. But let’s not confuse craving with curing.

Chapter Three: What Does Science Say?

We called a few nutritionists (well, Googled them with shaking fingers) and here’s what we learned:

• Greasy food before drinking? Possibly helpful. It slows alcohol absorption.

• Greasy food after drinking? Mostly just delicious self-deception.

• Salt and carbs? Yes, they can help replenish electrolytes and energy.

• Actual hangover cures? Sorry mate, nothing reliably works except time, hydration, and regretting your life choices.

So while a kebab might feel like it’s working, what it’s really doing is sitting in your stomach like a smug meat brick while your liver continues its 12-hour apology tour.

Chapter Four: The Placebo Power of Kebab

Let’s be honest. Some of the kebab’s “healing” power is probably just psychological. After all, what’s more comforting than:

• Being handed warm, heavy food like it’s a meaty baby.

• Sitting on a curb eating garlic sauce at 3am while bonding with a random stranger named Gaz.

• The brief moment of peace when chewing replaces vomiting.

But that’s not medicine. That’s emotional support meat.

Chapter Five: Hangover Cures That Might Actually Work

So if kebabs aren’t the answer (unless the question is “how do I make my breath repel humans for 48 hours”), what is?

• Water. Boring but effective.

• Electrolytes. Sports drinks, coconut water, or just add salt to your life like you do in arguments.

• Sleep. Hangovers are your body’s way of demanding a nap and a better life plan.

• Painkillers. Just don’t take anything liver-murdery like paracetamol if you’re still metabolising alcohol.

And no, hair of the dog is not a cure. That’s just hitting snooze on your liver’s alarm clock.

Final Thoughts: Eat the Kebab Anyway

Look, mate. While kebabs are not a medically-approved miracle hangover cure, they do bring joy, and sometimes that’s enough. If wolfing down a dodgy doner while watching the pigeons fight over a chip brings you some spiritual relief, then who are we to judge?

Just don’t let Dave start selling kebabs as pharmaceuticals out the back of the pub. We’ve already had to stop him convincing people that Jägerbombs are “full of B12.”

So the verdict?

My mate down the pub says eating kebabs cures hangovers.

We say: It doesn’t. But we’ll still have two with extra garlic sauce, cheers.