Evening Edge

A falafel sandwich does not go down gracefully. It is built to squish, and squish it will — all over your fingers and the corners of your mouth and quite possibly through any soggy crevice in its wrapper and straight onto your lap. Such are the dangers of this serious face food.

Falafel has been a minor obsession of mine since I first tried it in high school at the home of my Israeli best friend, Yudy. His mom set out falafel fixings the way other moms served tacos. She showed me how to split a pita and stuff it with the hot, fried falafel balls, tomato, shredded cabbage, cucumbers and plenty of tahini drizzled on top. She was so charmed by my reaction (which involved moans of pleasure and rolling of eyes) that she sent me home with a jar of tahini and a precious box of the falafel mix she brought from Israel.

John Kessler writes food features and a column about food and more for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution E-mail John Kessler Recent Kessler columns Your fool-proof checklist for Thanksgiving  Hours of low-temperature cooking yield tender, juicy meat  Different things to sample on my new dining menu         More John Kessler Related: John Kessler's blog: Food & More John Kessler's recipes Meridith Ford Goldman's Table Talk Jeanne Besser's Feeding Frenzy Evening Edge Atlanta Restaurant reviews and search Recipes from Atlanta restaurants Favorite Atlanta recipes

I soon discovered that in the blessed city of New York, falafel was sold on street corners from food carts. Every time we went to visit my older brother there, I made sure we visited his local falafel guy, who added a thin stripe of hot red harissa sauce as a foil for the abundant and drippy tahini he lavished on the sandwich. Could it get any better?

Without question. I spent my junior year of college in Paris, where I quickly discovered the falafel joints of the Marais — the old Jewish neighborhood on the Right Bank. There, vendors offered to outfit your sandwich with fried eggplant, pickled red cabbage, pickled turnips and whatever other vegetable salads they had on hand. The harissa was spicier, the tahini creamier and the whole assemblage tasted like a mouthful of fireworks.

It took me far too many years to finally visit Yudy in Israel after he moved back, but I did. And of course he knew the first thing I'd want to eat was falafel. He took me to a small, modern joint called Malkot Hafalafel (Falafel Queens), where the owners baked their pita on the premises and offered a gourmet range of color-coded falafel sandwiches. The orange ones were flavored with sweet potato and outfitted with honey-ginger cabbage. The red was all about harissa and hot spice. The green falafel, tinged with cilantro and parsley, came with arugula, olive pâté and zucchini. There it was: my falafel pinnacle.

I haven't had any that came close until a recent trip to New York. There, I made a visit to a miraculously tiny West Village falafelria called Taïm (222 Waverly Place, New York, 212-691-1287) that has been getting buzz. Like the place in Israel, the falafel balls come in a variety of colors — green with herbs, red with roasted pepper and redder with spicy harissa. They were pretty terrific and gloriously drippy, stuffed into a puffy, crusty thick pita with tahini, hummus, tomato/cuke salad and cabbage.

I have yet to find a falafel as good in Atlanta, though I am fond of the version at Pita Palace (1658 LaVista Road, 404-781-7482). Here you can find the real Israeli deal — the guy at the counter hands you a warm, hummus-smeared pita filled with crisp falafel balls and you get to garnish it at will. Fried eggplant, lettuce, tomatoes and cukes, sauerkraut, red cabbage, peppers — anything you could stuff into the pita. Glorious.

I have also since become motivated to make my own, which was far easier than I would have imagined. Set the chickpeas to soak overnight, then you merely have to blend the mixture in a food processor. Once it rests, it's ready to go. Fry 'em up, sauce 'em up, and let them drop into your lap in the comfort of your own home. That's good eating.

My Favorite Falafel 5 servings

Hands on: 15 minutes Total time: overnight, plus several hours resting time

This recipe from Joan Nathan's "The Foods of Israel Today" (Knopf) makes a traditional falafel bright green with herbs. If you leave out the herbs and add roasted pepper or prepared harissa, you get a gorgeous red version. I've even made it with smoked Spanish paprika for an unusual twist.

1 cup dried chickpeas

1/2 large onion, roughly chopped (about 1 cup)

2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh parsley

2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh cilantro

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 to 1 teaspoon dried hot red pepper

4 cloves garlic

1 teaspoon cumin

1 teaspoon baking powder

4 to 6 tablespoons flour

Soybean or vegetable oil for frying

Chopped tomato for garnish

Diced onion for garnish

Diced green bell pepper for garnish

Pita bread

Tahini sauce

Put the chickpeas in a large bowl and add enough cold water to cover them by at least 2 inches. Let soak overnight, then drain. Or use canned chickpeas, drained.

Place the drained, uncooked chickpeas and the onion in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade. Add the parsley, cilantro, salt, hot pepper, garlic and cumin. Process until blended but not pureed.

Sprinkle in the baking powder and 4 tablespoons of flour, and pulse. You want to add enough flour so that the dough forms a small ball and no longer sticks to your hands. Turn into a bowl and refrigerate, covered, for several hours.

Form the chickpea mixture into balls about the size of walnuts, or use a falafel scoop, available in Middle Eastern markets.

Heat 3 inches of oil to 375 degrees in a deep pot or wok and fry 1 ball to test. If it falls apart, add a little flour. Then fry about 6 balls at once for a few minutes on each side, or until golden brown. Drain on paper towels. Stuff half a pita with falafel balls, chopped tomatoes, onion and green pepper. Drizzle with tahini thinned with water.

Per serving: 248 calories (percent of calories from fat, 44), 9 grams protein, 26 grams carbohydrates, 6 grams fiber, 13 grams fat (1 gram saturated), no cholesterol, 445 milligrams sodium.