I can't lie; I didn't come up with that title all by myself. There's actually a falafel place in London, right in Covent Garden, called Just Falafs, and every time I eat a falafel, I think about the clever shop name.
As Boston is not the most culturally diverse city, it is not surprising that good falafels are hard to find. I've tried a few Mediterranean places in Boston and was actually shocked that some restaurants serve falafel plates and not pita sandwiches. These places include Steve's Greek Restaurant on Newbury (if you go here, you must try their saganaki - amazing!), and Oleana, an upscale Mediterranean restaurant in Inman with an incredible falafel plate. Black Seed Café & Grill on Tremont isn't bad, a bit unconventional as they use banana peppers... And the only condiment available for the pita is tahini sauce. What, no hot sauce? How can you eat a falafel with no hot sauce?
My desperate search for the falafel continued. Proudly claiming to be of half Lebanese descent, my friend Jess took Div and I to a lesser known Middle Eastern restaurant called Café Jaffa, on Gloucester St. between Boylston and Newbury. With a selection of worldly beers, the restaurant provided the three of us with seats in a dark corner to peruse the section labeled "Middle Eastern Sandwiches". Tempted to order the falafel, the waitress actually recommended the Schwarma Combo, which is chicken and some kind of lamb/beef mixture. The sandwich was made-to-order, and it came out on a heaping plate with lettuce, tomatoes, tahini sauce and extra hot sauce on the side. The sandwich was clearly fresh, but even I had a difficult time eating it. I looked over at Div, and chuckled when she didn't even bother to try picking this one up with her hands. About half way into it, I had to switch too, which sort of takes away the concept of a sandwich. The ingredients mixed with the condiments were delicious, but I'm sure the falafel would have been just as difficult to eat.
Continuing, my friends Ashima and Neel live in the South End next to a charming café called "Pita", or at least that's what it says on the bright red awning. On their website, they refer to themselves as South End Pita, but I could really care less. What matters is that their pita "roll-ups" are incredibly satisfying at only $5 a sam(mich)!! The restaurant delivers, but you can dine in too. The café is quaint and cozy, serving both beer and wine. The ingredients are fresh and the owner is a sweetheart. He'll make your sandwich just the way you want it and if you want extra hot sauce, he'll give you a huge bowl of it with a smile! (He stopped smirking when he saw me finish every last drop.) I've tried both the falafel and the chicken schwarma, and although they are both fantastic, I must say that the chicken schwarma is out-of-this-world good. The fresh bread is stuffed with tomatoes, cucumbers, tahini sauce and a spicy garlic red sauce. Seasoned chicken breast is cooked slowly on an authentic vertical rotisserie, and then thinly sliced. The pita is rolled up very tightly, and pressed in some kind of glorified Panini-maker. The roll-up is cut in half and couldn't be easier to eat, even though it's gushing with condiments. Feel free to sub the schwarma for falafel, you won't be disappointed. Dine in, have a glass of wine and pretend you're on a Turkish Island, or perhaps in Egypt, where the falafel is thought to be first invented.
Inspired by the “Bangin’ Blueberry” pesto (Pestos with Panache by Lauren) that I picked up at the SoWa market, I made a sandwich from one of their recipes for dinner. Living in the North End, picking up ingredients isn’t exactly convenient. I took my bike out, and started filling my basket with a baguette, a few slices of fresh asiago cheese and 1/8 pound of pancetta from Monica’s Trattoria on Salem St. I ran over to Going Bananas down the street to pick up some arugula before heading home with my supplies.
Walking into a bustling 1980's-era pizza shop, with Neil Sedaka's "Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen" cranking on the jukebox, my dad and I felt like we had somehow been transported in time to the days of hoop earrings, ripped jeans and pay phones. The bar at Santarpio's in East Boston (Eastie? Do people call it that?) subtly reminded me of my parents' basement only with hardwood floors, brighter lights and one of those plastic neon-blue Pepsi-Cola clocks. Attempting to take in the ambiance, I snapped back to reality as a man at the grill shouted "How many? How many?" over and over again. I looked at my dad, and we silently agreed to sit at the bar...was the grill guy asking how many people? Or how many skewers of meat we wanted? A question for next time perhaps.
Overly excited by Boston’s compliance with the latest nationwide food truck craze, Ev, Kate and I headed to the SoWa market off Harrison Ave. Among the food trucks were Bon Me featuring Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches, Silk Road BBQ, Roxy’s Gourmet Grilled Cheese and the Clover truck (usually parked by South Station). Lazily snacking on Grillo’s famous pickles (try the spicy!), we struggled to decide on a truck when a woman walked by with the most attractive looking stuffed pita. Eagerly, we asked her what she was eating, and she pointed in the direction of the Clover truck. The chickpea fritter sandwich was as delicious as it looked. Crispy chickpea fritters (which you could call falafels) were gently coaxed by smooth hummus, confidently topped with fresh pickles, tomatoes and lettuce. The crown of the pita is stuffed with bright purple cabbage, carrots and a drizzle of tahini sauce. Together, the ingredients create a vibrant, lively meal that almost looks too artistic to eat. During our intimate engagement with our sandwiches, several food enthusiasts stopped by to ask us what we were eating...it actually looks (and tastes) THAT good.
