It’s like eating the perfect burger, or ribs, or rotisserie chicken. You find it, and you think, “I may never find something so perfect again.”
But this meal has a nostalgic taste to it because it reminds me of a kosher Jewish restaurant my sister and I would go to back in the States. During lunch time, I would go to the nearby kosher Jewish restaurant to order a shawarma. While the shop was owned by an Orthodox Jewish family in the neighborhood, the people who worked there were primarily from Central and South America and had been in the USA for years. They started to know me as a regular and would let me try the different pickled vegetables and sauces they had, even though they knew full well that I would order the same thing: “Two chicken shawarma to go please, and extra pickles please.”
I would then walk back to my sister’s house where her toddler was napping. Her older kids would be at schoo,l and this would our treat before I went back to work and she was on full-mom duty, helping her kids with homework, taking them to practice and making sure they practiced piano and did their chores.
We didn’t really chat while we ate our shawarmas. We just ate, and occasionally made the same comments we always made when we ate our shawarmas. “This is so good.” “Right?” "The meat is so tender.” “I just love the way the person made this one – everything is mixed in.” And then we would go back to eating.
My sister moved from that city and I’m now here in Germany. Who knows the next time we will be able to share a shawarma. But luckily, there will always be new foods to try and more food memories to make.
