This is a bit of a love letter I guess… see I live in Vancouver right now – great city, they certainly have sushi, pot, and salmon covered, but the donair scene… well it is lacking.
Garlic sauce is nice, but I personally need something that makes me think, “hey is this my last meal?” as I have minor spasms, convulsions and “hope I gave the cat some food in the morning to tide him over while I go and die.” Yes, the sweet sickly sauce is what I miss – not exactly hard to make, but it is nicer to let someone else concoct it in THEIR laboratory – out of sight out of mind. The meat is OK here but it’s usually packaged – not homemade like good places back home. Spicy, crafted and carefully created to wake you up a bit a 2 in the morning. AND here the donair meat is dispensed like they are down to their last gram of weed. I’m paying $7 give me some friggin meat god damn it!! Meat you soon. —The Donair Lover
This article appears in Aug 11-17, 2011.
mr. blue?
Doesn’t just suck when the Donair Craving hits and the best you can do just doesn’t quite scatch the itch?
Who remembers the little hole in the wall donair shop on SGR right next to the entrance to Garbagetown? (Hell, who remembers Garbagetown?)
Always the perfect last stop after a night on the tiles.
garbagetown? splain please
Who got the best Donair in HRM? I like Alexandra’s personally.
Do they have wild salmon in BC? Or is it farmed?
It was a basement dance club across from Park Lane called Cabbagetown. After a night swilling filthy ale at the Sore Arse, we’d tumble down the stairs to listen to the British new wave and watch the punk girls making out with each other on the dance floor. Then a donair and home to bed.
It was hardwired in the muscle memory. I could (and frequently did) do the trip on autopilot.