Thank goodness for Joey, because I know nothing about
anything shawarma. Though the Levantine ritual of packing meat in a wrap and
selling it in as many competing hasheries in Waterloo as possible has existed
for as long as any Canadian Chinese food place has, I’ve never taken the time
to go in, order, and see what the buzz is all about, largely in part because I
could never come to terms with the price for something so simple. That said,
the only perspective afforded me in regards to the shawarma, the falafel, or
the gyro, all came in retrospect to what the shacks in the University of
Waterloo’s campus court plaza’s bodega of culinary delight has to offer. Joey too has his
own understanding. His understanding being that Australia has the best gyros,
shawarmas, ‘whatevers,’ he has ever eaten. And who am I to deny it? I know
nothing of the sort.
Highland Halal Shawarma had us both hankering curiously for
whatever it was that drew people into its small corner. Aside from our usual
sniggering at anything food and anything attention grabbing, we figured the
traffic must have been some indication that Highland Halal Shawarma was doing
something right.
Its menu’s small, its food inexpensive. No meal will run you
over 10 dollars. And if you deny yourself the option of a combo and stick to
the puritan disposition of its wraps, you’ll have a bite that’s even cheaper,
but just as satisfying. Before I took a bite this was my favourite thing about
Halal Shawarma; before its tiny space, before its two stool bar on-looking a
parking lot crossed out by iron, before its mirrored walls that make an
infinitely small space look on, humorously, into infinity. But I’m not
complaining; I liked it. I liked the white noise, the bright lights. It was a
space that stirred in me all the fantasy of food joints in big cities. When I
went in, I could pretend that when I went out something big and urban was
waiting, steam rising from sewers, people smashing elbows- not sprawl and
neglected suburbs, not strip malls. Just me, Joey, and whatever shawarma was.
Whatever cheap shawarma was.
Joey was first up; he knew what he wanted. All the fixings
on the side, cautioning me that he fills his own pita because some people
really load up his wraps; that, for whatever reason, doesn’t sit right with
him. I was indifferent. And, of course, lacking any perspective I ordered a
falafel wrap (5.30) and a shawarma wrap (6.64), as well as the novel, yet not
for faint-of-heart, Ayran than-koto yogurt drink, making sure Joey got one
too.
Lobbed in front of me and cuddled in a paper bag were two
separate wraps, each in two even smaller paper bags. In each, warm pitas
cocooned snuggly around respective fillings of fried chickpea patties and
chicken- shaved from a conical spit. Any other fixings were up to the eater; they
could include brightly pickled turnips, radishes, pickles, and the lesser more
mundane everyday vegetables.
My resilient, chewy pita counterpoised the chaotic stuffing
of crispy chickpea falafels, slippery pickles, and spicy lip puckering hot
sauce. It was a fun thing to chew, and a great way to manage fillings that have
a potential for making a big mess, especially when a falafel as perfectly crisp
as mine gave way to a soft sumptuous cumin centre. My tender shawarma was no
different. Its tender meat, a savoury hot roast against cooling pickles pulled
up again by a humming hot sauce was a great first experience. Our tart yogurt
drinks too. We both wondered if they tasted as sour as each other’s. They did.
We laughed. We loved it. Sour and savoury quenched with even more sour and
savoury. Staring out into the parking lot, it was a good way to spend a lazy
Saturday afternoon.
HIGHLAND HALAL SHAWARMA
(519) 741-8300
200 Highland Rd. W.
Kitchener, ON N2M 3C2
Tue-Sun 11 am - 9 pm
ANY PAYMENT
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