Hello Hi Yes,

Well, this was an odd one. The tl;dr here is that this here restaurant (pictured above) is indeed very good – for reasons that I will go on to explain in due course. The experience… well, I’m confused. In a good way! But confused.

Last night, as I was returning home on the last Subway to Cessnock, I noticed that Glasgow Shawarma, which occupies the site of the old Serene Coffee House on the corner of Paisley Road West and Percy Street, had an archway made out of balloons outside its door – and that the shop appeared to be shut.

Oh! I hear you cry! That doesn’t look shut! That looks open! Well GUESS AGAIN. I went up to the front door (I was very drunk) – I peered in – and it looked like they were doing the finishing touches. Likely they were done with day one custom by 23.45 and just wanted to a) go to bed, b) sort the snagging issues with the joins between the tables and the floor covering.

Fast forward to today and I am very hungover. Entirely, if not more so than ever, my fault. Why? Well, as is customary, one goes to a wedding not only to celebrate the love and matrimony of a friend, but also for refreshment – and whilst I was fine (I think?), by the time I’d got home at midnight, I’d found a big bottle of Smirnoff Ice that I’d forgotten I had. “It’s just lemonade”, I snorted. My sore head thinks it was just the It’s just lemonade that really did it.

Anyway, to Glasgow Shawarma – having failed to visit them last night, and in urgent need of brunch today, I popped in this afternoon. For day 2, it seemed fairly busy – a family who had been a-lunchin’ left pretty much as I arrived, and another family were standing by the seats awaiting their falafels out of the chip pan. Kiddo (aged small) even got a complementary Fruit Shoot! Aww, I thought.

I approached the counter and asked for a mixed wrap (which costs £6.99, I will say now) – and was greeted with a blank, almost puzzled expression. “…can I pay by card?” I continued. “Certainly!”. The gentleman behind the counter typed a price into his electric pay-me-do, and then looked at me. Didn’t say a word. I looked back. Was I about to get a “that’ll be six ninety nine please” after he remembered he wasn’t mute? No. After a few seconds of awkward silence (and in fairness, my hangover didn’t help), he nodded at his card machine. Now, he didn’t pick it up and extend it mewards or anything, he just nodded at it, as if to say “go on Son, just get yer card out and give it a little tippity tap”, without saying a word. So I did. #commerce101

So that was the hard bit over. Paying. Meanwhile, a girl had joined the queue. “Are you waiting” she asked. “Yes, I’ve paid, go ahead” I said, so she did! The girl seemed familiar – looked (and sounded!) like an old work colleague but it wasn’t – then I realised it was likely another Glasgow food blogger and it was just my sixth sense going off (hello, by the way!)

A young man then joined the queue. “Man, it’s roasting in here”, he said to anyone who would listen. Well, I was listening. I CARE, DAMMIT. “It is, yeah” I replied. “WHIT???” Sorry, was that WHIT aimed at ME? “It is yeah”, I repeated, slightly louder, looking at him. “WHIT???” came the reply. Agitated wee man. I explained from the top: he’d just walked in, exclaimed that it was warm, and that I was in agreement.

“WHIT???”

“YES IT IS FUCKING WARM IN HERE”

“AYE, A KNAW RIGHT”

Meanwhile, at the counter, the food was ready. “Mixed wrap??” he said, looking for the guy who ordered the mixed wrap (me). I waved.

In front of him he had two freshly baked naans, both with freshly trimmed lamb and chicken from the poles behind him.

Two.

I’d ordered one. I was confused. I checked the menu. One mixed wrap was £6.99. I checked the Google Pay notification on my phone. It said this:

The chap behind the counter did that staring thing again, whilst I was trying to work out the sudden onset of double vision. I sensed he was getting impatient.

“Mixed wrap…” Ah yes, the pause. He’s waiting for me to complete the sentence. He’s asking a question without actually asking a question. I get it. I said, with a pause that Hollywood’s finest double take actors would be jealous of, “……… salad?”

And oh boy, did I get salad. Chummy wasn’t taking any of my hungover shit, no Sir/Madam. The regular shredded lettuce! The slightly pickled lettuce! Red cabbage! Fattoush style chopped cucumber and tomato! Chillies! Olives! (and I like olives, so if this was an attempt to irritate me, he’d messed that one up). He then asked this time what sauce I’d like, but clearly didn’t have much time for me. “What sauces do you have?” I asked – mainly because they have a LOT of bottles. He started to list them. “Chilli, Garlic, Mint…” I said yes to all of those. The mint sauce, which resembled a mint zhoug of sorts, was very nice. We’ll get onto that in a second. First – he hadn’t explained why he was doing all of this *twice*.

As the bloke serving me confidently goes to place two, freshly made kebab wraps in a plastic bag and wave me on my way, I have one final chance of remonstrating that I only wanted one, I only needed one, and crucially, I’d only paid for one. “No, you get two” he confidently retorted. “Are you sure this is my order” I ask. “YES”, came the stony response. I’d attracted the manager’s attention now. “Is everything OK?”. I explain that I just wanted one kebab for lunch, and I’d paid for one, but was being given two. A conversation between the guy behind the counter was brief, but the manager just said it’s OK, gave me my kebab(s), and that was it! I was finally able to get out of the doo…

“BIG MAN!”

It was a third chap – who had earlier given a small chap a Fruit Shoot – offering me a can from the fridge! (that I hadn’t ordered either). He gestured at the inside of the fridge – wanting me to pick a can – any can! – of my choosing – but considering I was no longer sure what day it was, I just ended up saying “nice fridge”. The gentleman grabbed a full fat coke, pressed it into my hand, and I was on my way.

But what of the food? I’d literally ended up with twice what I’d ordered. I was kinda hoping it would be bad, so that I wouldn’t feel guilty about chucking the superfluous one in the bin. Annoyingly, reader, it was good. Really really good. Worth the psychic torture I’d just endured, and then some. Everything about this was fresh. The bread? Fresh. The meat? Straight off the spit. The salad? Fresh fresh fresh. The sauce? Well, the mint one was in a buffet tray, and was fresh. The chilli and garlic sauces were in bottles, but were surprisingly good – the chilli giving it a kick. Here’s what the inside looks like:

The meats were delicately, if at all, spiced, but who cares – the sauces were here to do the heavy lifting, and they did.

So how to score this? The experience was bewildering, but I ended up with more than I bargained for, and the food was really good. In fact – I dare say – on a par with, if not slightly better than, Shawarma Grill a few doors down. Ordering was frustrating but hopefully just a one off, cos the food was up there with some of the best in Glasgow. If I were doing my top ten of 2023 today, this place would be in it, despite what we could charitably call “front of house concerns”.

So it gets 9/10 from me.

Glasgow Shawarma, 381 Paisley Road West

Mixed Shawarma Wrap – £6.99

9/10