spasmodically since March, when I first tasted the Afghani lamb kabob at Khan Saab in Fullerton. As the calendar has slipped away since then, I have eaten countless kabobs from elsewhere, but rather than leave a lasting impression, most of those others have
merely triggered a longing for that lamb at Khan Saab. It is a long, slender spear made from ground meat and fennel and star anise and a whole trove of spice, molded onto a skewer and cooked over charcoal until it looks like a scorched branch of kindling