Hmm. I really don’t know the answer to that question. After trying a few recipes, this is the one I’ve settled on for a good, basic falafel. You can also try using fully cooked chickpeas (aka garbanzo beans) or even canned beans, but if you do, you’ll need to add either flour, bulghur wheat flour, or breadcrumbs into the dough to keep it all together.
When I was temping last year, after moving back to the US from Europe, I found out I was working in the cubicle next to Gundy (after overhearing her phone conversation about orgainizing a ChiDope). That was bizarro.
I looked at (and bookmarked!) that page that Big Bad Voodoo Lou linked, and in the Chawarma recipe I found this line:
I Googled, and every place that mentions “li’e” seems to be yet another copy of the same recipe. So, what fat is it we’re supposed to put with the meat?
Excuse me while I drool on the thread. . . .
Now, if only the S.O. wasn’t allergic to legumes. . . sigh
I don’t know, but shwarma is usually basted in lamb fat. The shwarma I’m familiar with is usually made from lamb or turkey, not sirloin. But I suspect lamb fat would work well in the recipe.
I do loves me some Koresht Ghaimeh. I have a Persian friend who makes it occasionally. I even tried some doogh (carbonated water and yoghurt, salted and with fresh mint). Interesting. In a hot climate, it would actually be very refreshing.
http://www.ee.surrey.ac.uk/Personal/F.Mokhtarian/recipes/ghaimeh-khoresht.html
http://www.ee.surrey.ac.uk/Personal/F.Mokhtarian/recipes/doogh.html
I’m so insular that I don’t pay much attention to my surroundings, and, unfortunately, I don’t know many of my neighbors. Bad, I know. We’ve probably seen each other and I’d recognize you if I saw you.
Here’s the view out our back porch. That’s my husband building me a podcast studio.
We’ve lived in this apartment for 2 years, but have lived in the neighborhood since 1997. We used to live 2 blocks away across the street from the Hibbard school. They tore our block down to build an addition to the school. Bad, because we had planned on staying there for the rest of our lives, and bad, because we’re paying $300 more for this apartment (damed yuppies and the start of gentrification), and it’s smaller. Good though, because we’re only a half-block from the train. One of the reasons why we’re not so neighborly (besides being introverts and night people) is that we never ever use the front door. We don’t have a car so we use the back door to get to the train and/or bus. We never experience the get-to-know-your-neighbors via the sidewalks and front porches way that most people do. Our front windows are all blacked up because of our movie-watching habits, so we never even look out the windows. We are weird. But harmless.
Btw, do you know what store got robbed the other night? This seems like a very crime-free neighborhood (well, except for the occasional hookers Lawrence up by Kimball) but something happened the other night. We saw lots of police lights on the other side of the tracks when we came home a few nights ago. As we walked through the KFC parking lot there was a police cruiser going down the alley. We stopped them and asked them what was going on. He was very tight-lipped and just said “armed robbery, we’re still looking for the perpetrator. You folks should get inside” which we immediately did. Since we’re so insular, I’m not one of those people who know everything about the neighborhood.
Pretty amazing, innit?. (though maybe not even as amazing as pulykamell and Gundy’s story). MLC, I don’t know if we’ll ever get together (I don’t know if we’d ever be home and awake at the same time to get together), and I don’t know that we have anything in common to talk about if we did get together except of course the SDMB and liking ME food, but it’s strangely reassuring to have a Doper as a neighbor. Pleased to meet ya.
Equipoise, that must be some view. Our firewall won’t let me see it, for some reason, and has the site classes as “pornography.”
It’s just my husband standing on our back porch cutting sheet metal with shears. Some might consider that porn, but they would be odd. The site itself is a domain I own, for my innocent podcast. The name is so strange that it couldn’t possibly have ever been used in the past for a porn site. Weird.
Well, your husband looks vaguely familiar - and while I can’t see our apartment in that picture (insert obligatory hackneyed “Jesus says to Peter” joke here), I /can/ see the power pole behind our place that got blown up by a stray mylar baloon about 3.5 years ago.
Misery’s Company and myself lead a life somewhat similar to yours: we’re not particularly outgoing, know the people in our building only because you can only live so long without running into people or having to talk to square away something-or-other. Howeverm, we’ve never actually had the “one-of-these-days-whole-building-BBQ” that has been discussed, mostly b/c we’re too busy and too reclusive.
We moved in from an area that was gasping it’s last breath of individuality before succumbing to yuppie gentrification. I’d like to hope that we didn’t bring them all with us. . .
Absolutely news to me - our biggest annoyance with the neighborhood is the large number of completely unruly kids that like to set off firecrackers all year outside our livingroom window.
Likewise, I’m sure!
and on preview: Well, Mr. Equipoise does look a little sweaty in that pic. . .
I dunno what it’s thinking sometimes.
Is tahini also the name of a dish of some kind? I’m only familiar with the sesame paste used in hummus and other stuff.
Tahini is two things: one is pure ground sesame paste, and the other is a sauce made with sesame paste, lemon juice, garlic, and parsley and salt. Pure sesame paste can be pretty unpleasant - its got a “muddy” consistency, and a very strong bitter flavor. But mixed with the other incredients it acquires this silky texture (much smoother than hummus), a tangy bite, and a lovely complex flavor that compliments ME cuisine. Good on bread, pita, vegetables, meat, rice - you name it.
Ooh, don’t do an oven. I’ve had reasonably good luck using olive oil and a cast-iron skillet, but I wouldn’t do that again: it’s expensive, and I understand that olive oil isn’t the best for frying. Last time i did it (the time I made them from scratch), I used a deep-fat-fryer and peanut oil.
I’ve told you the two I like; personally, I’ve not liked the other ME desserts I’ve tried (although there was a weird rosewater, honey, and filo-straw pastry I had once that I’d love to try again: my tolerance for rose-flavored-foods has gone up). If you’ve tried baklava and Turkish delight, I can’t help you :).
Can’t help here, either. Turkish coffee is definitely a treat for coffeelovers. It’s very strong and rather gritty. But given the cloying sweetness of Turkish Delight, the contrast in flavors and textures is just fantastic. But you gotta like coffee first.
Daniel
I have my grandmothers Lebanese cookbook. Envy me. I have memorized 3-4 recipes that I cook regularly, and about a dozen more that I have cooked or help cook before. My family’s Thanksgiving and Christmas feasts regularly include 2-3 Lebanese dishes in addion to the traditional dishes, especially now that I usually do all the cooking. My mother makes a hummus tahini that makes Arabs ask how she does it. I make a mean green bean stew and stuffed grape leaves. ;j
Hit submit too soon. There is also a Persian resaurant near my work that has a $9.99 lunch buffet that is all you can eat and they make their own bread fresh daily in the store. Mmmm, I think I know where I am gong to lunch tomorrow. 
The way to make a proper falafel is to soak dried chickpeas overnight and then grind them in a blender or food processor. That is the base for all that is good and right about falafel. 
After that, recipes vary (egg or no egg, spice and onion garlic herb variations, binder choices, etc.).
Mixes are for tourists. 
Of course the right temperature for frying is also crucial, just as it is for any fried food.
I’m still exploring the varieties of what could be called “Arab” food. Sometimes the devil is in the details - a particular spice blend, or chutney/garnish, or style of cooking.
I’d say the Moroccans and the Lebanese have cornered the restaurant market, but there are treasures to be discovered in the less well known cuisines.
You are vague on some things, specific on others.
I generally do well with a mix and make the hummus from canned chick peas, a lot of garlic and sesame oil. The fried chick pea dust mentioned above was made with a binder.
Rules are rules, but there are always exceptions. 
To be honest I never tried the mix - how is the final texture of the falafel?
The ground up raw bean recipes can give you something both light and substantial (there are little bits of chickpea left even after grinding). Canned beans are too wet and mushy to achieve that.
But I do understand about the dust. I fear the dust whenever I fry a batter recipe without eggs. So mostly I’m an egg person (if not in the batter, then as a coating). If you’re not a vegan or kosher, why take the risk? Pulykamell’s recipe sounds similar to mine (with the insurance of one egg).
Like hushpuppies.
Like the other falafel I’ve had unless it falls apart or is undercooked.
I don’t know if it was catered or made from a mix by the ladies at the Synagogue, so I may have only had the mix.
But hey Manischewitz is the best, right? ;j
I decided to make falafel again today, and tried a slightly different recipe.
It was fantastic.
I did it ever so slightly different than the given recipe. Instead of only using chickpeas, I used 1/2 chickpeas to 1/2 fava beans. I didn’t soak them overnight, but took the advice of a comment from the other falafel recipe and brought the dried beans to a boil, took them off the heat, covered them with a lid and let them sit for an hour, then drained. It worked fine.
I also took zeeny’s advice at adding an egg. It seemed a lot of liquid to me, and I added about 6 tablespoons of flour in all to balance it out, but the falafel binded perfectly. I fried it in cough lard and oil (I had some sitting on the stovetop from wings the other day) and they turned out wonderfully crisp on the outside, and moist and chewy on the inside.