I guess I owe the Halal Guys for saving my life. A now-global franchise born from a humble street cart on 56th and 8th, they've landed in Long Beach, and they take my palate by storm every time. The Beef Gyro is juicily chopped, a waterfall of white sauce cascades over a riverbed of yellow rice. The hot sauce tap-dances on the tongue and settles in for a slow-kill burn so deep.
I'm usually too carnivorous to deviate, but when I do, the Falafel is incredible. I often find the fried chickpea concoction bland, but Halal Guys keeps it fragrant and moist.
When I left the northeast, I thought I'd lost them forever, but here they are. As I toil through six unbearable 12-hour days, Halal Guys gives me hope; food for the brain and fuel for the soul.