The Wagyu world is broader than burritos.

At the risk of conflating a global culinary phenomenon of which the variations number beyond counting, I’ll place shawarma in the family of foods that get lumped together into a group generically termed “kebabs.” Throughout much of the world, not at all limited to the Middle East, the kebab (alt. kabob) is the definitive street food that sustains hungry college students, working stiffs, and weekend partiers alike.

I once ate a kebab in a Tel Aviv, the thought of which makes my mouth water to this very day, and I know from personal experience there are late night jurisdictions right here in the US where street vendors specialize in gyros for the drunk and hungry. Of course, burritos and tacos fill this niche in SD, and in other American cities, pizza reigns supreme. But, given the prevalence of the kebab throughout Europe, Africa, and the Middle East; I’d make an informed guess that non-kebab localities are actually in the minority. All this is to say that, as quick, portable eats go, Wagyu Shawarma Grill, which recently opened a location in Mission Valley, is in globally good company.

Ian Anderson supplied an overview of Wagyu Shawarma Grill after the first branch opened in East County. The Mission Valley location appears in all material aspects a duplicate of the El Cajon original, and Anderson’s observations no doubt still ring true. However, for those of us who can’t quite justify a trip to El Cajon for the sake of shawarma (which is totally reasonable), Wagyu broadens the local market considerably. I’ll pronounce it a cut above the Kebab Shop and Luna Grill, both of which formerly dominated Mission Valley’s kebab scene, such as it is.

Wagyu's shawarma benefits from salty pickles, refreshing bite of parsley, toothsome flatbread, and liberal handouts of tahini and garlic sauce.

As Anderson politely noted, the “wagyu beef” shawarma ($13) is more than a little bit hype, since we are dealing with spit-roasted meat shaved directly from the broiler with what looks like a chef’s interpretation of a carpenter’s hand plane. This preparation tends to render even Grade Z beef delicious, and Wagyu’s use of Japanese-type beef provides only incremental gains over the general tastiness of shawarma, which even when bad can be quite good. But that’s not the whole story, a decent kebab being more than the sum of its parts. Wagyu’s fare merits a “hey, that’s a good shawarma” in no small part because of the salty pickles, refreshing bite of parsley, toothsome flatbread, and liberal handouts of tahini and garlic sauce. You deliver that in a clean environment with friendly staff and it’s hard to go wrong. Of course, this being San Diego, you can add fries for another $2, which I suppose makes a California shawarma.

Wagyu’s falafel ($8) likewise hits the spot. It’s richly flavorful and not too doughy; zesty and a pretty, almost mint green color when you bite into it. In perhaps a nod to the ubiquity of “hot chicken,” Wagyu’s menu includes a strange-bedfellows chicken sandwich, replete with pickles, cole slaw, and a spicy sauce for all of $6. The world is, indeed, broader than burritos.