I love falafel. But I am pickier than almost everyone I know when it comes to those fried chickpea balls stuffed into pita breads, and rightfully so. Who wants a dried out pita or overly greasy chewy balls of beans? I don’t.
So, after ten years of waiting, yearning, and fantasizing, I traveled back to my ultimate falafel hang out, L'as Du Fallafel, in
Here’s the way it works. On Rue de Rosier, the Jewish hangout in the 4th quarter, the street is lined with falafel joints, cafes, Judaica shops, and bakeries. In the middle of the road, two Israelis (speaking impeccable French) vie for customers. “The best falafel in town,” one shouts. I feel bad for the guy I dismiss, but there is only one falafel for me. As I pay my 5 euros, I eagerly wait in line as the man behind the counter slits the top part of the pita, slathers a thin layer of hummus, shoves in some slightly vinaigrette-laced red and green cabbage, a few diced tomatoes, fried eggplant chunks, falafel balls, and then a repeat of the same action. Oozing down the filling is a layer of tehina sauce poured on top, followed by either red or green hot sauce. My sister taught me the trick of saying, “un 
falafel special, s’il vous plais, avec picante.” The lovely Israelis didn’t even try to speak English to me – an encouraging welcome from traveling in
When they hand me the falafel, it isn’t wrapped in foil paper or served in a napkin. These Las Du Falafel people actually have their own “bag” holder, a triangular pouch to stick the falafel in so nothing drips onto your lap. And then, time comes for that first magical bite.
The falafel balls are warm and crisp, light and airy. The vegetables provide a crunch and tang, while the tehina enriches the entire experience curled up in that soft pita.
If I only had the recipe, I would open up my own falafel shop and tour around the
Maybe some day…..
Meanwhile, I can rack up some frequent flier miles and dream.
Eat well, be well, and enjoy!
Cherina
No comments:
Post a Comment