The best falafel I ever had was a surprise freebie at the Falafel Palace in Northridge CA. While waiting for my order, a young lady from the kitchen popped out holding a single falafel ball and held it out to me. “Hey! We just made this! Fresh from the fryer! Try it!” It was fantastic. Hot, but not too hot to hold… a thin crunchy surface… and the innards having a softness and wonderful mouthfeel that falafel balls lose very, very quickly and which theoretically can (but not really) be remedied by slathering on tahini or hummus. And the taste? Super! Made a mental note then: Consume falafel balls fresh, fresh, fresh from the fryer.
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I only learned that a couple years ago when we made some on a lark. The difference is so big it’s hard to remember it’s the same food as I got at the kebab joint.
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Time for a falafel joke. (Thx, Interweb.): What did the chickpea say when it got sick? “I falafel.”
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What has four letters, sometimes has nine, but never has five?
Yep, exactly.
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If they made a clone of Colin Firth do you know what they’d call him?
Colin Thecond
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Another post of mine in Odd Shtuff also belongs here:
Euthanasia is not a student exchange program.
I gave myself a funny look when I thought of that one.
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If you stay at an inn called the Daub and Wattle you will easily get plastered.
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