In praise of falafel
After last week’s rather serious post, I return to more
trivial blogging content and bring you a short essay in praise of falafel.
Now, I’m slightly obsessed with the stuff. My favourite place to buy it is in the Old City: turn right at the far end of Christian Quarter Road, head down the hill to Lina’s (finest hummus in Jerusalem) and then go a little further to the café on the left where a bag of 8 falafel will set you back a mere 8 shekels. I get them freshly made to take away and eat for lunch (with hummus, labneh and pita purchased from Lina’s) but usually end up eating them all before I even get to my destination. They do a mean falafel pita at Moshiko’s on Ben Yehuda but generally falafel in West Jerusalem pales by comparison with the stuff from the Old City and East Jerusalem. Yes, it’s true: I have become something of a falafel snob. You would too, if you ate as much of it as I have done this year. I’ve been struggling to bounce back from a bout of food poisoning (possibly attributable to the entire lamb that Grade 11 cooked for 8 hours in an oven for an after-school party that I blagged my way into) so haven’t had falafel in three weeks and I’m experiencing serious withdrawal. This weekend will see me wend my way down the narrow streets of the Old City in search of my favourite snack. I suggest those of you in other places who think I’m over-reacting come and visit to find out for yourselves...
My previous experience of falafel in England was not
good: dry, dusty, brown balls that tasted exactly like I imagine the sawdust
they use as bedding for hamsters would taste.
I hasten to add that I’ve not tried hamster bedding, but if I were to do
so I am convinced it would taste much as falafel tasted to me back home. Friends tried to convert me. My most ardent vegetarian friend (and
excellent veggie chef) fed me falafel, I think, but clearly it had little
impact. At buffets and parties I looked
with disdain upon the dried-out offerings sitting on plates, looking forlorn
and unwanted. So when I moved to Israel
my anti-falafel feelings meant that I was unconvinced that falafel here would,
as people assured me, be better than falafel back home. Boy, was I wrong.
Falafel over here is the BUSINESS. It is the absolute pinnacle of Israeli
street-food, the zenith of middle eastern cookery, the crowning glory of a
cuisine that boasts hummus, labneh, kubbeh, shawarma and many, many other
delicious treats. It is moist, it is
green, it is fresh, it is hot and delicious.
Stuffed into a pita with hummus, salad, pickles and tahina (sesame paste)
it is possibly one of the finest meals-on-the-go this earth has to offer.
I actually ate my first proper falafel in the OPT on a
visit to Bethlehem with my friend Jo and her three small, blonde children. Ben, Sam and Elizabeth were peckish and being
good ex-pat children they were happy to eat whatever local food was put in front
of them. We stopped at a falafel stand
on a corner in Manger Square and watched the man fry up fresh balls of the
greenish mixture then shove them unceremoniously into a pita. The kids (no fools) devoured theirs rapidly; this in itself caused a little stir as locals looked on, bemused, at the three western children devouring local food and even - I kid you not - took photographs.
I looked at the ones Jo had bought in a bag and dubiously accepted half a
falafel. And then my culinary world changed.
Falafel from the Old City in Akko - yes, yes, yes
Now, I’m slightly obsessed with the stuff. My favourite place to buy it is in the Old City: turn right at the far end of Christian Quarter Road, head down the hill to Lina’s (finest hummus in Jerusalem) and then go a little further to the café on the left where a bag of 8 falafel will set you back a mere 8 shekels. I get them freshly made to take away and eat for lunch (with hummus, labneh and pita purchased from Lina’s) but usually end up eating them all before I even get to my destination. They do a mean falafel pita at Moshiko’s on Ben Yehuda but generally falafel in West Jerusalem pales by comparison with the stuff from the Old City and East Jerusalem. Yes, it’s true: I have become something of a falafel snob. You would too, if you ate as much of it as I have done this year. I’ve been struggling to bounce back from a bout of food poisoning (possibly attributable to the entire lamb that Grade 11 cooked for 8 hours in an oven for an after-school party that I blagged my way into) so haven’t had falafel in three weeks and I’m experiencing serious withdrawal. This weekend will see me wend my way down the narrow streets of the Old City in search of my favourite snack. I suggest those of you in other places who think I’m over-reacting come and visit to find out for yourselves...
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