What Craig St. Jean is Eating (Donairs!!)

By Craig St. JEAN (The Semantic Volume 1, Issue 5)

The Semantic's most-maverick gourmand writes from the gut. This week: A sloppy sojourn to donair town.

Pop open a bag of chips in revelry, for Her Royal Tyranness, Ms. McKenna, has placed a firm vote of confidence in my corner-- I'm proud to proclaim that WHAT CRAIG ST. JEAN IS EATING is staying in The Semantic! As your resident low-class culinary cognoscente, it is my mission to bring you ravenous readers the incisive, meat-dicing, loaf-slicing commentary that you desperately crave. It's a complicated world out there-- each day we are inundated with a glut of complex choices and decisions, so when it comes to matters of the maw, it's best to simply close your eyes, turn off your brain, and put what I tell you in your mouth. Last issue's burger review was a good start, but now that I've got my my feet wet and my appetite even whetter, it's time to really get down to business. In this installment of nutritional negligence, I bring you an investigative report into Charlottetown's donair scene: which ones rule? which ones suck? which ones are larger than a small child? Delicious answers lie ahead...

...but before I get there, I think it's apropos to backtrack a bit and appreciate the origins of the donair. The donair that we know and love in Atlantic Canada is essentially a variation of a Turkish dish known as the "Döner Kebab." Cut in strips from a vertical spit, döner kebab meat was often that of lamb, but sometimes beef, and was typically served on a pita or something of the sort. Depending on the restaurant on the east coast, vestiges of the donair's Mediterranean/Middle Eastern ancestry will be betrayed in varying degrees of ethnic flavor. From conversations with my New England relatives, I have determined that an American approximation also exists, developed in the Greek tradition and going by the name of a "gyro" or "giro." Again, the dish is comprised of sliced lamb or beef and served on a pita, with varying sauces and vegetables thrown into the mix. The Atlantic Canadian donair is believed to have been pioneered in Halifax, which seems believable enough if one is to check out all of the city's downtown corner stores restaurants. The approach around is to top the meat with with chopped tomatoes, onions, and sometimes cheese. The CRAIG ST. JEAN approach, however, is to ditch the vegetable bullshit and ALWAYS add cheese. Ordered this way, it's a veritable Atlantic Canadaian ambrosia. Quebec has poutine, we have donairs, and now you have MY advice on where to get 'em:

You've pretty much got 4 options. Sadly, one of those options is repulsive to the point that I'm dismayed I'm even allowing myself to mention it. But for the sake of the curious and the donair n00bs, it's PEI Pizza on Kent St. Yes, what once was a glorious satellite of the Jack's Pizza operation, and thus a purveyor of the indomitable Jack's donair, is now but a shell of its former self. In terms of serving awesome donairs, at least. I ate one there once; never again! I'm feeling a little nauseous simply from the memory. Please, if you have never eaten a donair, do not let their's be your first! And please, allow me to move onwards and upwards.

Of the three remaining options, two are pretty good. First, there's Greco, which serves a donair that doesn't have a whole lot in common with the more traditional ones described above. It's the type of dish that's appealing when you wish to put absolutely no effort into eating your food (which, come to think of it, is basically Taco Bell's biggest selling point for me) and when you don't mind getting a little messy. No work required here-- just slurp it down. I'd suggest donning sweatpants during the act, especially if it's 3pm and this is your first meal of the day. Any points I'd detract are lost in the flavor department. It's still tasty, mind you; it's just that it merely knocks on the door while it's superiors smash through without warning. Second, there's Dino's. Now here's a place that deserves an entire article all it's own (keep an eye out!). These dudes revel in all things donair, and in fact, some of their donair variations far surpass the staple item. I'd love to digress into details, but I've got guidelines to follow here. Their basic donair clearly falls in line with the traditional Halifax donair-- the kind you'll find on Pizza corner.The meat has a stronger hint of that Mediterranean flavor, so Lebanese lovers might find themselves more enamored of the Dino's donair than I am. It's good, though I wish the sauce wasn't cold when it's added, but you won't go too far astray with this one.

So what is the champion of donairs? I sort of spilled the beans above... Jack's Pizza, on University Ave, holds the honor. Their's is like, The Donair of A Thousand Truths. My first time eating this thing was like being reunited with a long lost brother. I embraced it tightly with both hands, and asked "where have you been all my life?." Things haven't been the same since (I now have cholosterol issues....tasty, tasty cholosterol issues). It's really all about the meat. I don't know where it comes from or what the hell is in it, and I don't want to know. I just want more of it. You might do well to wear a garbage bag while you handle this thing, but the mess is part and parcel with the appeal of a Jack's donair. It's about rejecting the notion that great food must be eaten from a plate "daintily" with "utensils." So, really, it's not just a food, it's a statement. In fact, it's a lifestyle. Go there now and order their largest donair. It outweighs the average 3 year old, and it's twice as delicious. Tell them I sent you.

Oh, and as unrelated addendum, I'm going to give this year's Thanksgiving dinner an 8/10. Good job, mom.

NEXT ISSUE: Something extraodinarily greasy!"