Shawarma—the very word conjures up the aroma of succulent, well-spiced meat, slowly roasted to perfection. This quintessential Middle Eastern streetfood has a special place in my heart, woven with memories of bustling streets, aromatic spices, and the mesmerizing sight of meats roasting slowly on a vertical spit.

Shawarma, a beloved street food originating in the Middle East, traces its roots to Turkey and Levant. This dish features spit-roasted layers of lamb, beef, or other meats, sliced and often wrapped in or served with pita bread. Cooked on a rotating vertical spit in a rotisserie oven, shawarma essentially self-bastes in its juices, resulting in tender, flavourful meat.

Shawarma, which means “turning” in Arabic, emerged during the Ottoman Empire in the 18th or 19th century. It has since become a staple street food across the Middle East, celebrated for its rich flavours and convenience.

My love affair with shawarma began in the vibrant streets of Baghdad. In Baghdad, street vendors would skillfully carve thin slices of chicken or lamb off the towering rotisserie, the meat tender and succulent, its edges crisped to perfection after hours of slow grilling. Watching the meat spinning on a vertical rotisserie, bathed in heat, was mesmerizing.

These slices were tucked into warm pita bread, accompanied by tangy pickles, a smear of garlic sauce, and sometimes a drizzle of tahini. It was street food at its finest – a simple yet profound culinary experience that has lingered in my memory. The shawarma in Erbil, served with a distinct Kurdish twist, was equally unforgettable—a perfect blend of tradition and local flair.

A Shawarma Stop in Ranchi

Yesterday, that familiar magic found me again, this time in Ranchi. My son, Judhajit, who frequently visits Curesta Hospital, had been singing praises about a roadside shawarma vendor in the area. He’d tasted it before and insisted I join him for an evening snack. The idea was irresistible, especially with the crisp winter chill in the air. Shawarma, after all, is more than just a dish—it’s a bundle of warmth, comfort, and nostalgia.

As we approached the roadside cart, the enticing aroma of grilling chicken enveloped us, transporting me back to the vibrant streets of the Middle East. The vendor expertly sliced tender, seasoned chicken from the rotisserie with fluid, practised movements. He layered the juicy meat onto a soft, thin paratha, adding tangy sauce, creamy mayonnaise, and a sprinkle of spices before wrapping it tightly—a creation that was both simple and extraordinary.

A Taste of Home Away From Home

The first bite was pure joy. The flavours mingled beautifully—the smoky, juicy meat, and the creamy tang of the sauce. While it didn’t quite rival the shawarma from Baghdad in authenticity, it had a charm of its own. The warmth of the shawarma was the perfect counterpoint to the winter breeze, making the experience feel special.

We stood by the cart, eating our shawarmas as the winter air nipped at our fingers. It wasn’t just the food that warmed us; it was the shared experience, the stories, and the memories. Shawarma, after all, is more than a dish—it’s a connection to places, people, and moments that linger long after the last bite.

The Universality of Shawarma

Shawarma’s journey from its origins in the Ottoman Empire to the bustling streets of cities worldwide speaks to its enduring charm and culinary adaptability. Steeped in tradition yet remarkably versatile, it has become a global favourite, transcending borders and cultures with ease.

Food has a unique way of intertwining memories, places, and emotions. That unassuming shawarma cart in Ranchi may not have been extravagant, but it offered a comforting taste of familiarity. It reminded me of how food, wherever it’s found, has the remarkable power to connect us to our past while bringing moments of joy to the present. For this, I am grateful to the humble vendor near the Curesta Hospital—and to Judhajit, for guiding me there.

As we drove back, the taste of the shawarma lingered, a warm echo of a chilly winter evening. It wasn’t just an evening snack; it was a story—one that began in the Middle East and found a new chapter on the streets of Ranchi.