WITH a name like Best Kebab, there’s a cruel irony in finding out that one of Glasgow’s most famous takeaways is actually the WORST rated in the entire city.

Just as most fancy restaurants can only dream of attaining a Michelin star, it’s an equally rare feat to receive TripAdvisor’s lowest score.

But when customers publicly label the eatery a “bio weapons lab” and go to great pains describing the explosive effects of the food on their bowels, it makes you wonder if this is the rare establishment deserving of such damning feedback.

With its ropey reputation, Best Kebab, on Dundas Street behind Queen Street station, is essentially a part of ‘dark tourism’ now amongst drunken revellers.

Visiting is rarely an option when sober so it’s usually only when someone has Dutch courage that they’d darken the door of Glasgow’s most ‘dangerous’ fast food joint.

Full disclosure – I’m not a big fan of kebabs.

Maybe it’s because I’m a food snob or possibly it’s the mystery surrounding what donner meat is actually made of.

It’s just never been my go-to meal when I’m at my most vulnerable like it is for many others.

But when I learned of Best Kebab’s infamy, I felt compelled to take one for the team and sample their culinary delights.

After handing over £6.50 for a small donner kebab – a bit on the pricey side for my liking – I grabbed my grub and went on my way.

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As I exited through the front door, my polystyrene container was a magnet for horrified glances from members of the public who looked genuinely concerned for my health.

Holding the food at arms length like some sort of radioactive material, I said a Hail Mary and took it into the office.

Like any decent workplace, it’s like feeding time at the zoo when someone arrives with a snack – especially one spreading the smell of chilli sauce throughout all of Greater Glasgow.

Colleagues walked over excitedly when I said I had a kebab they were welcome to taste.

Their smiles then turned to screams as they recoiled in horror when I told them where it came from.

Ignoring their pleas to save myself before it was too late, I waded into the meal, scooping up a forkful of donner meat, lettuce and pitta bread.

Fully expecting to spontaneously combust, I was pleasantly surprised to report back that it “wasn’t that bad.”

Maybe it’s because I went before 5pm when Best Kebab had just opened.

But I was rather relieved to assess it as simply average rather than anything that would be sending me to A&E that night.

Since I’m not a big fan of kebabs, I managed to convince a few hungry colleagues to sample it too.

When one of them went back in for a second and third bite, I felt like the curse had been broken.

The consensus was that it wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad, that it was just a bog standard kebab.

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I’m proud to stay that I tried Best Kebab and lived to tell the tale, but don't just take my word for it – or the reviews on TripAdvisor – go try it for yourself.

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