One gut-busting day in 2023, I ate a trio of downtown falafel options and picked a winner.
Yesterday, having finally regained an interest in eating too many smashed and fried chickpeas too quickly, I did it again.
I started at Mediterranea, where small handwritten prices had faded into the overhead menu and wafts of last night’s hookah still sweetened the air. The ‘tile’ patterns of the bay window table tops may have been printed on, but the fresh and dainty flowers on them were real, and so was my aluminum-swaddled falafel sandwich ($7). The pita bread was thin yet elastic, which made it both tastier and stronger, holding everything together from first bite to last and making this my first falafel sandwich that didn’t end in a mess. Supple with just a hint of crisp, the falafel could’ve used a bit more salt; actually, the whole sandwich could’ve used that, plus some fresh herbs to go with the lettuce and tomato. Overall, though, it was a cohesive and satisfying option—and would’ve been even better on a Monday, when a weekly special kicks the price to $5.
Price was a factor the other way at my next stop, Midpoint. The restaurant’s subtitle is “Fine Dining,” and the falafel here was a minimalist $14 appetizer: four squat surfboards comprising all of three cubic inches next to an atoll of hummus. Alone, the falafel tasted odd, with a grassy note and a bitter finish, but the hummus was pretty great: floral and savory, with light touches of fat and acidity. And somehow, in taste but not in price, it completely redeemed the falafel when smothered onto it. (For $8, I also tried Midpoint’s red lentil soup, which, after a big squeeze of lemon, was even more beautifully balanced.)
My third and final stop was Aladdin, a spiffy casual spot just 50 yards away. At $5.95 for a generously portioned pita sandwich, the price and presentation were nice. But the dish looked prettier than it ate. The brittle pita began to fall apart within two or three bites, and the components inside were segregated, having been stacked in recessed layers one at a time. So I got mouthfuls of tahini, falafel and parsley, or parsley, pickled turnip and tomato, or tomato, hummus and lettuce, but never, organically, all of them at once. Plucking things out with my fingers, as I eventually did, and piling all the components into a single bite was pretty tasty, but it’s not how anyone wants to eat a sandwich.
Laced with a spiced sweetness somewhere between cinnamon and anise, the falafel itself may have been the day’s boldest—too bold, maybe, with a note of smoky burn in its extra crispy skin. The sliced tomato was fresh and juicy, albeit buried, and the diced parsley was bright and concentrated, tabbouleh-style. But the vinegar on the turnip was too harsh, and the hummus was so mild it was almost imperceptible.
Needless to say, it wasn’t my favorite falafel. That distinction belongs to Mediterranea’s sandwich, which offered the day’s best mix of taste and value, and from the humblest perch at that.
Written and photographed by Dan Mims.
