Raw Falafel — Another Door Into the Middle Eastern Pantry

I tried my first recipe from the Middle Eastern cookbook this week: a chicken dish called musakhan, which is roasted chicken on flatbread with caramelized onions and sumac and toasted pine nuts. The sumac is the key ingredient, this dark red-purple spice I had never cooked with before that has a tart lemony flavor unlike anything in Gloria's index cards. I found it at the grocery store in the international aisle after looking for five minutes and feeling mildly adventurous just from locating it.

The dish is laborious in a satisfying way. You caramelize the onions for a full forty minutes until they are deeply golden and sweet and collapsing, then toss them with the sumac and a little allspice. The chicken roasts separately until golden, then everything goes on flatbread and into the oven together. The result was something I had never tasted before that still felt completely familiar in the sense that it was made with patience and fat and a generous hand with seasoning. Good food is good food regardless of the passport.

I ate it alone at my kitchen table on Tuesday night with a glass of cold water and I thought: I like this. I made this. I could not have made this six months ago.

At work this week a new toddler named Solomon started in my room. He has a very serious face and spent his first three days watching everything before he participated in anything. On Thursday he painted a picture and brought it to me without comment and went back to the table. I put it on the wall next to the door. Some people need time to trust a place. I know that better than most.

Making musakhan cracked something open in me — the realization that a whole pantry I’d never really touched was full of flavors I already loved, just arranged differently. Raw falafel felt like the natural next step: the same region, the same generous use of herbs and warm spice, and that same quiet satisfaction of learning something new that immediately feels like it belongs. If the musakhan was the door, this is what was right on the other side of it.

Raw Falafel

Prep Time: 20 minutes (plus overnight soak) | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes active | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 cup dried chickpeas, soaked in cold water overnight and drained
• 1/2 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, packed
• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, packed
• 3 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
• 1/2 small yellow onion, roughly chopped
• 1 tsp ground cumin
• 1 tsp ground coriander
• 1/2 tsp fine sea salt, plus more to taste
• 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
• 1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• Sesame seeds, for rolling (optional)

Instructions

1. Soak the chickpeas. Place dried chickpeas in a large bowl and cover with several inches of cold water. Soak at least 12 hours or overnight. Drain and pat dry. Do not use canned chickpeas — raw falafel depends on uncooked legumes for the right texture.
2. Process the base. Add the drained chickpeas to a food processor and pulse 8–10 times until coarsely broken down but not smooth. Scrape down the sides as needed.
3. Add the herbs and aromatics. Add the parsley, cilantro, garlic, and onion to the food processor. Pulse until the mixture comes together into a coarse, slightly sticky dough. It should hold its shape when pressed — if it feels too wet, add a tablespoon of chickpea flour; if too dry, a small splash of water.
4. Season. Add the cumin, coriander, salt, cayenne, lemon juice, and olive oil. Pulse a few more times to combine. Taste the mixture and adjust salt or lemon as needed.
5. Shape the falafel. Using damp hands, roll the mixture into balls about the size of a golf ball, or press into small flattened patties. Roll in sesame seeds if using.
6. Serve or chill. Serve immediately at room temperature, or refrigerate on a parchment-lined tray for up to 2 days. Raw falafel is excellent with tahini, tucked into flatbread, or alongside a simple chopped salad.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 10g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 8g | Sodium: 310mg