Falafel: Wicked Good

Allow me to talk to you about falafel.

Photo: Flickr CC/yummyporky

No, I’m not just doing it so Liz adds me to a list of Israeli resources she is compiling. Though that would be sweet as well.

I’m doing it because falafel is wicked good. I will elaborate.

As a lover of food, I form, at times, vivid, powerful memories of standout meals –whether exceptionally good or superbly bad. What’s interesting about falafel is that I think I’ve experienced falafel meals that have fallen into both categories. Truly excellent falafel is a thing of beauty, a fast-food delicacy the likes of which lifts my soul to soaring heights – and bad falafel is worse than ovoid bricks.

Before I dive into my feelings for falafel, I should note that this is one dish I’ve never before prepared myself. Maybe it’s fear, a gripping fear of disillusionment that I could never create falafel that brings tears to mine own eyes. Maybe I feel part of the magic is building a sandwich in a shop or at a stand. Maybe it’s laziness. Could go any which way. Regardless, I am drawing upon my several and varied experiences with the dish in this discussion.

First: What is Falafel?

Falafel is a fried ball of chickpeas or fava beans with spices. It is frequently served in a pita pocket and topped with various salads, relishes, pickles, and sauces, including (but CERTAINLY not limited to) hummus and tahini (sesame seed paste). These toppings are frequently presented buffet style such that you receive your falafel and pita at the counter and it is up to you to stuff as much as possible in alongside. Many consider the toppings so essential to the experience that falafel as a term may also refer to the falafel balls, pita, and toppings in totality.

Falafel is a traditional and well-loved Middle-Eastern dish. It is so well-loved, such an emotional trigger for so many that Lebanon recently sued Israel over it. Yes. Really.

(At least they're just suing...)

What Hungry Sam likes in Falafel:

• A crisp exterior;
• A moist – but fully cooked – interior;
• A proper balance of spices such that the toppings are a complement but not completely necessary to the enjoyment of the falafel balls;
• Fresh Pita;
• Basic toppings – cucumber-and-tomato salad, tahini, hummus, red peppers, baba gannouj, dill pickles;
• Exotic toppings – pickled beets, spicy sesame sauce, leeks.

What Hungry Sam really, really dislikes in falafel (or, all the stuff that can go wrong with a Falafel Sandwich);

• Non-coherent falafel balls;
• Over-spiced falafel balls;
• Under-spiced, bland falafel balls;
• Poorly shaped falafel balls – I feel the closer to perfectly spheroid the harder they are to bite into;
• Dry falafel balls (actually the worst thing that can happen to a falafel sandwich. Ugh.);
• Dry/crumbling Pita – without the ability to truly stuff the pocket, how can you enjoy the whole experience?
• Insufficient variety or quality of toppings.

As you can see from these lists, a lot can go wrong and much must go right for me to be truly enjoying my falafel. I will now briefly tell of the three best falafel experiences of my life. In descending order:

3. Silly's Restaurant, Portland, ME

Silly's, a bizarre, "crunchy," avante-garde sort of restaurant back home breaks my mold a little by serving their falafels in a (truly enormous) wrap, pre-dressed and replete with a number of my key toppings. This rebellious attitude toward falafel (an attitude, I should note, which carries over to the rest of their menu items, like "hobo pie," which is a taco mountain made entirely from scratch) is validated with the excellence of the falafel balls themselves. In a town known better for crustaceans, Silly's is shining star of suberb falafel -- and pretty much everything else. Worth a visit. Worth a lfietime. (Maine joke.)

2. One night at Amsterdam Falafel in Adams Morgan, DC with Kate and Rachel

It's not that the falafel is perfect, but it is the best approximation of the Platonic Ideal of falafel shops that I've found in America (Maoz comes close) -- the falafel balls are well formed and spiced and the options for toppings are quite broad. Also, eating them outside on some folding chairs , talking to the drunken bongo player behind us and looking at the ridiculous people wandering Adams Morgan at 11 PM on a Sat night with my friends greatly enhanced the evening.

1. That Little Shop in Tsfat, Israel at the Top of the Stone Steps

Woah. What a flashbulb memory. This was now two years ago, and the perfection of the first full, complex bite of crispy, moist, and flavorful falafel with french fries, cucumber-and-tomato salad, hummus and tahini remains powerful. I cannot give this memory full justice. The ancient, hewn stone steps and walls, the crisp smell of fresh, Middle Eastern breeze, and Tsfat's fusion of old rabbinic life and new artist colony vibe only drew me further into this amazing snack.

Incredible.

Comments

[Suburban Sweetheart]

Amsterdam Falafel is the best the U.S. comes, I think. It's delicious & a little bit Americanized but not in an unlikable way. But Israel? Oh, Israel. That first falafel I ate in Israel was the finest culinary moment of my mouth's life.

[Yael]

I randomly stumbled upon your blog when I Googled "Aztec chai" (quite random, I know). I was intrigued and started reading through your posts. Great blog! I'm an Israeli temporarily exiled in DC and reading your description of falafel made me unabashedly salivate... Thank god I'm going to be visiting Jerusalem next week so that I can eat the real deal!
I look forward to reading more posts!

[Hungry Sam]

NEVER be abashed of falafel induced salivation. Also, try Maoz; it's decent. AND I'm extremely jealous that you'll be in Jerusalem.

I'm glad you enjoyed!