a note about Schwarma

I have a bit of a problem. You see, I really love schwarma. No, I mean REALLY LOVE SCHWARMA. For those of you who don't know, Schwarma is a middle-eastern delicacy, succulent lamb (or, less authentically, beef) and vegetables wrapped in pita with hummus and tehina. Mouth-watering goodness. Now we can spend hours debating whether schwarma, like falafel, is really an Arab dish or an Israeli dish (it's clearly Arab in origin, but in a volatile region, people can come to blows over things like this) but instead I say we focus on the deliciousness.

In my fine city of Montreal, with a huge Lebanese population, schwarma places abound: Amir, Sara, Fattouch (Fat Touch) etc. And by eating schwarma, you are supporting a good cause, as 30 cents of every dollar spent at the restaurants goes straight to Hezbollah. (I jest, but even if this were the case, it would be difficult to stop going). In the downtown area, schwarma is the late-night food of choice, as places stay open long after the bars and clubs close. I went to school in Cambridge, MA, but whenever I returned home, I make a point of eating schwarma, or the equally wonderful shish taouk (the same thing but chicken) during meals or latenight. Indeed, these missions are frequently proceeded by the endless repetition of the word, in almost durg-induced frenzy, mimicking Arabic: "Schwarma, Schwarma, Schwarma!" Supplementing the schwarma are a wonderful side dish my friends and I call corrosive potatoes, so named because the spicy grease often burns through the styrofoam plates that the monster's blood through metal in "Alien."

So what's my problem? Well this summer, after graduating, I moved back to Montreal. And my family had recently moved to location near downtown, and within walking distance of not one but two schwarma places, including what I believe to be the best schwarma in the city, at "Schwarma Plus" in the food court of Place Alexis Nihon (how could the best schwarma be in a food court? This is the wonder of the great dish). And so I had a lot of schwarma this summer. At least twice a week. (if the proceeds did in fact go to Hezbollah, my patronage alone would be a worth a half dozen Katyusha rockets). And while schwarma is delicious, this is not health food. And I'm a man who already loves McDonald's and thinks vegetarianism practially immoral. Then, one day a couple of weeks ago, I was eating some corrosive potatoes after my shish taouk, (a change of pace) and a realization came to me. I liked this food too much. Indeed, I convulsed after each bite of corrosive potato, dipped in garlic sauce, as my body simply could not handle the pure pleasure. It was at that moment that I decided that In needed to mend my ways. The next time I had schwarma, I got salad on the side instead.

I leave for Israel tomorrow. And the land of milk and honey is also the land of hummus and tehina and schwarma. And I'm a little worried about my self-control. Because I will have to have it. But I will try to be careful. Here on this blog, I will keep a running tally of every time I eat schwarma, how it tastes and how I feel afterward. I don't what I'm going to do with this tally, don't know if there is some record I should try to defeat or something like that. But we'll figure something out. I'm open to suggestions.