For those of you lucky enough to have traveled to Israel, chances are you have had a shwarma (or ten).  For me, it’s a weekly ritual.  Every Wednesday, rain or shine, rockets or stabbings, I walk down to the corner where I am greeted by Mr. Shwarma.  Always smiling and happy, he asks me the same question:  “Hey, do you have a million dollars for me”?

Magic Shwarma is the name of the joint and magic shwarma is just what is served.  The meat is spinning on the spit, sides being roasted from the flame and the salads are there waiting for you to choose them to be placed on the lafa.  Lafa, the only way in my opinion to eat a shwarma, is like a big, fluffy burrito.  After several years of this ritual, I don’t even need to tell Mr. Shwarma how to prepare my lafa.  He automatically starts to fill it with humus, harif (hot sauce), white, pickled cabbage, fried eggplant and a few fries.  It’s simply delicious.  Yes, it’s fattening, full of carbs, gluten and whatever else we shouldn’t be eating these days , but we all have our vices.  I am perfectly content with mine.

My favorite part, though, is standing and having a quick chat with Mr. Shwarma while he is preparing my lunch.  Unlike fast-food in America, Israeli fast-food is actually prepared to order, while you wait.  We discuss various topics such as the current security situation, the shekel/dollar exchange rate, how our families are (he even knows my wife as well as my children) and how we are praying for everyone’s safety.

After your first, mouth watering bite, you can actually feel all of your problems start to dissipate.  The only problem is, eventually, I finish my shwarma and have to return to reality.  As I am cleaning myself up (it’s quite messy), Mr. Shwarma never lets me leave without a quick blessing for a great day, health and prosperity.  This is a common theme among Israelis:  The quick blessing before one departs.

As I leave, I think to myself, wouldn’t the world be a better (and fatter) place if everyone just sat down and had a magic shwarma together when they had serious problems to work out?  Imagine, for a minute, if Bibi and Mahmud Abbas would simply sit down and enjoy a magic shwarma together.  How could they possibly remain mad at each other?  It’s impossible!

For peace, we don’t need Camp David, Oslo, a Quartet, P5+1 or the UN.  We simply need more shwarma!