Eat It Like You Mean It
SEARCHING FOR SIMPLE, COMPLEX FULFILLMENT—A PILLAR OF HUMAN HISTORY AND ACHIEVEMENT? LOOK NO FURTHER THAN FALAFEL.
Chickpeas: base, protein, nutrients, nutty. Herbs: parsley, cilantro, and dill. Those are, respectively, light and bright, fresh and almost citrusy, and rooty, anise-y, with a darker green. Then onions (red feels right for this dish). Refreshing, cool, with a light bite. Garlic, warm and rich, almost umami. Salt and pepper. The embodiment of flavor…salty, and then a darker, quiet heat. Baking soda—that’s magic, not sure. Finally, spices are added. Cumin, coriander, and cayenne. Those go earthy and slightly warm, nutty citrus, and simple, pure heat. Combine and blend in a food processor.
Chill briefly, then form into scoops, balls, or patties. Fry them in hot oil until crispy, or bake if you’re willing to trade them tasting worse for consuming less oil. Done.
That is, more or less, how you make falafel; it’s probably best served in a toasty pita, filled with crunchy fresh vegetables like tomatoes and cucumber and slathered in yogurt sauce and hummus. The final product, when done well, is refreshing, crunchy, light, and fucking delicious.
Falafel is a great dish for anyone, but it does feel somehow appropriate for those of us in our twenties. As we’re looking at the world and seeing global warming ramp up and a likely recession ahead, the benefits of falafel being vegetarian, filling, and cheap as hell to make are appealing. Not to mention, other than frying, the thing is pretty healthy, too.
Falafel is of a somewhat murky origin, but the most common story is that it hails from Egypt, where Coptic Christians developed the dish as a filling but vegetarian alternative during Lent. Egyptians make it with fava beans, not chickpeas, but the dish’s roots in the Middle East give it additional cachet as Americans begin to explore wider and wider cuisines more frequently.
Maybe above all, though, falafel epitomizes a dish that takes some of the simplest things, plain ingredients, and makes something that’s more than the sum of its parts. Nothing in falafel is tasty on its own, but it’s a food where a dozen different flavors come together into a whole, like a chorus of voices coalescing into an angelic harmony.
Cooking and food are some of the best metaphors for experiencing life. We all eat, and if we plan to stay here, we can’t give that up. So, food becomes a constant, and how we treat it reflects how we will treat the million other constants in our lives—cleaning, working, talking to our fellow humans. If you can learn to love food, to taste it while you’re eating it, to think about what it is, then you’re in a pretty good place to work on fully experiencing the other millions of minutia that make up the bulk of our existences.
Falafel’s kind of a lot, though, so a fried egg with crispy edges or a good sandwich are equally good places to start. Although, the next time you’re in a big enough town to find some, I recommend googling where the best falafel is.