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Falafel Burger — When Clay Came By and Hungry Couldn't Wait

Clay came by Saturday with a bag of groceries he said were on sale, which is Clay's way of making sure we have food without saying he's making sure we have food. Two pounds of ground beef, a bag of onions, canned beans, cornmeal, a gallon of milk. I didn't argue. There was a time I would have argued — Hensley men provide, they don't get provided for — but something about watching your youngest son carry groceries up the porch steps five months sober with steady hands and clear eyes makes you reconsider what pride is worth. He stayed for lunch. I fried hamburgers in the cast iron with onion and made pinto beans from the canned ones he brought, which is not how Betty would do it but Betty's beans take eight hours and Clay was hungry now.

Worked two days this week. Two. The builder called Thursday and said take the rest of the week, come back Monday, his voice careful the way people are careful when they're rehearsing a harder conversation. I said all right. I hung up and stood in the kitchen and felt something shift that wasn't my vertebrae. It was the ground. The ground I've been standing on for thirty-three years of working every week since I was eighteen years old.

Connie and I went to the Lexington Christmas parade Saturday evening. She wanted to go. I didn't, but I went because Connie wanting something is rare enough that when it happens you say yes. We stood on Main Street in the cold with a hundred other people and watched the fire trucks and the high school bands and the floats from the churches and the Shriners in their little cars. My back locked up after forty minutes and I leaned against a lamppost and Connie held my arm and we watched a float shaped like a candy cane go by and she said do you remember when Clay was in the Christmas parade in third grade? I said yes. He was a shepherd. She said he kept poking the other shepherds with his staff. I said that's because he was a Hensley. She laughed. I would stand against a lamppost in the cold for the rest of my life to hear Connie laugh.

Started Christmas planning. I'm smoking a ham this year — whole bone-in ham, scored and rubbed with brown sugar and mustard and cloves, smoked low over hickory until the glaze turns dark and the meat pulls from the bone. Betty always did ham for Christmas. Turkey's for Thanksgiving. Ham's for the birth of the Lord. I don't make the rules. Betty made the rules.

Clay was hungry and I was cooking, and that’s about as simple as a Saturday gets. I’ve been thinking since then about what it means to put something hot on the table fast — no eight-hour soak, no ceremony, just feed the person in front of you. This falafel burger is like that: built from pantry staples, done in under thirty minutes, the kind of thing you can throw together when someone shows up with steady hands and clear eyes and you want to say “I’m glad you’re here” without making a speech about it.

Falafel Burger

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 2 cans (15 oz each) chickpeas, drained and rinsed
  • 1/2 medium yellow onion, roughly chopped
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/4 cup fresh parsley, packed
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1 teaspoon ground coriander
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
  • 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour (or chickpea flour)
  • 1 egg, lightly beaten
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil, for frying
  • 4 burger buns, toasted
  • Toppings: sliced tomato, red onion, lettuce, cucumber, tzatziki or tahini sauce

Instructions

  1. Prep the chickpeas. Spread the drained chickpeas on a clean kitchen towel and pat dry thoroughly. Moisture is the enemy of a patty that holds together, so take your time here.
  2. Make the mixture. Add chickpeas, onion, garlic, parsley, cumin, coriander, paprika, salt, pepper, and cayenne to a food processor. Pulse 10–12 times until the mixture is coarse and crumbly — not smooth. You want texture, not hummus.
  3. Bind and form. Transfer mixture to a bowl. Stir in flour and beaten egg until combined. Divide into 4 equal portions and press each into a firm patty about 3/4 inch thick. If the mixture feels too loose, refrigerate for 10 minutes.
  4. Fry the patties. Heat olive oil in a cast iron skillet over medium heat until shimmering. Add patties and cook 5–6 minutes per side without pressing down, until a deep golden crust forms and the patties are cooked through.
  5. Build the burger. Set each patty on a toasted bun. Top with tzatziki or tahini, sliced tomato, red onion, cucumber, and lettuce. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 16g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 62g | Fiber: 11g | Sodium: 580mg

Craig Hensley
About the cook who shared this
Craig Hensley
Week 298 of Craig’s 30-year story · Lexington, Kentucky
Craig is a retired coal miner from Harlan County, Kentucky — a man who spent twenty years underground and seventeen hours trapped in a collapsed tunnel before he was twenty-four. He moved his family to Lexington when the mine closed, learned to cook his mama Betty's Appalachian recipes from memory because she never wrote them down, and now he's trying to get them on paper before they're lost. He says "reckon" and "fixing to" and means both. His bourbon-glazed ribs are, according to his wife Connie, "acceptable" — which is the highest praise she gives.

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