My heart convulses when I return to the Middle East and find my first plate of shawarma.
(For those who don’t know, a shawarma is built around slow-roasted spit-turned meat—often chicken—mixed with a balance of tangy, garlicky, and savory elements all wrapped together in flatbread and the flavor, like this sentence, goes on and on and on. The Jordanian version is often pressed on a griddle and resembles a Turkish döner, although here the bread is thinner.)
Is it excitement? Is it a heart-attack?
Absolutely!
