Don't come near this potently garlicky mouth: chicken shawarma

Sign, sign, everywhere a "best shawarma" sign.

The windows of the European Food Shop at the intersection affectionately known (to drunk students) as Pizza Corner boast that they have the best chicken shawarma.

But I've seen other declarations about town. Who's a girl to believe?

A satisfying shawarma is a simple thing. It can be deconstructed very easily:

Fresh pita? Check.

Generous amount of that marinaded chicken that whirls around on a metal apparatus cooking all day? Check.

Tangy pink pickled turnip and other desirable vegetables? Check.

Enough garlic sauce to permanently remove you from the Halifax dating scene if you were to go within two feet of a human you found attractive and wanted to get to know after consuming said sandwich? Check.

Best shawarma? Sure. I concur.

But I reserve the right to change my mind, should I stumble upon another.