Garbanzos: The Israeli Staple

Back to Israel. But not that sappy, serious, philosophical stuff. Let's talk about the important stuff: food. First off hummus. Good grief. I had never heard of hoummos with an omelet. But my GOODNESS what a great idea it is. Basically houmous can and should be eaten with every meal. I need to figure out either how to find it in Russia or how to make it. Both sound like they will take a lot of effort and probably a considerable amount of dough as well... I guess that's why I haven't had hummus since I got back. Also. The Israelis know how to do Shawarma (also with hoummos, and portions big enough for two meals). But to get a little more authentic here let's talk falafel. First off, what a great name. Say it. Just once. You can't say it just once. Because once you say it once you have to say it just once more just to try it a different way. It's a vicious cycle. Or maybe it's just me. Hmmm. Anyway. I'm going to be honest, I didn't actually know what falafel was made of. I finally looked it up and found that it's made of chickpeas, just like HOUMOUS. And it's also served with hummus. May be excessive but how can you have too much of anything with a name like "garbanzo bean"? Come on. So this sounded like one of those foods that should be gluten free but almost certainly isn't. And upon further inquiry I found that there's a shop in Tel Aviv which makes them for special people like me. So, naturally, I had to spend my last night in Israel in search of this restaurant. After about 30 minutes of circling the area I was about to give up and just eat something else. But at that point I was driven by stubbornness. There was no way that, after putting off my evening and wasting that much time, I was going to NOT eat falafel. So I found the little stinker. I walked in and asked if they sold gluten free falafel. And miracle of miracles the man did not look at me like a was speaking Greek. He hooked me up with the works, along with fresh lemonade. There is something magical about Israeli lemonade. I think I drank more in 4 days there than I have in a year. So he handed my bowl and cup over the counter, and, as I tried to pay, he told me just to pay later.

There are so many garbanzos on this plate it's not even funny. Yum.

So I sat down outside in the perfect evening weather. Sigh. There I partook of my very own authentic falafel. And there was joy in my mouth. And stomach. After a little while, Falafel Man came out and chatted with me. He asked me where I was from, how I liked Isreal, blah blah blah. On a sidenote, one problem I kept encountering was that when people asked where I'm from, in order to avoid giving my whole life story, I'd simply say, "the US" and then they'd say, "Wow, you came a long way" especially since I was only there for a few days. But if I tried to simply answer that I live in Russia (live being the operative word) they would say "Wow. Your English is fantastic!" And that it is. My accent even sounds authentic. I should hope that I'd have achieved such a level of proficiency after more than 20 years of practice.  But I digress. I told him that I liked Israel very much. I found it to be a beautiful country with very friendly people (understatements). He thanked me and said "Yes. We try to be nice to everyone. But we try to be especially nice to Americans. When we meet an American it's like meeting another Israeli!" Okay then! I'll take it. Israelis are GORGEOUS!

I'm not sayin'; I'm just sayin'.