Cuisine: Middle Eastern
I’m always a little amused by businesses that call themselves a “hut.” Better than a “shack,” I suppose. But unless your restaurant is like some bamboo sticks with a thatched roof and no door, it ain’t a hut. And Falafel Shack is just stupid. So, yeah, we’ve established that this is an actual eatery with an actual door whose roof is made of whatever roofs are made of. Let’s say tar and sandpaper? I may not know my construction, but I sure know what a fried ball of whatever the hell is in a falafel is all about!
While we’re on the subject of balls, I feel like there was some busting of mine back when we used to order from Falafel Hut. You could only call in your order, the dude would pick up the phone and then lay it down on the counter with not so much as a hello. You could tantalizingly hear the crew yelling “hummus” and “baba ganoush” in the background, but had no idea when or if they’d ever pick back up to take your order. In the world of small-ass inconveniences, this was a chasm. Lucky for us, they’ve moved into the new century and built a semi-functional website that allows for online orders. Hooray for the hut! And for us.
For many years our go to was the Jerusalem platter. In fact, Ms. Hipster is still a big fan. It’s a combo of all the dipping goodies: hummus, baba ganush [sic] and tabouli. Along with several falafel balls. They used to give you a couple full sized pitas in the actual bag they came in, but have grown ecologically conscientious and this last time just sent along the pitas in the container. While there is some concern of “farts for days” after ingesting the entire platter, the actual taste and consistency is terrific. The hummus silky and flavorful, the baba garlicky and smooth. I’m not the biggest tabouli guy, but Ms. Hipster really digs it. The falafel is nice and crispy on the outside and moist on the inside with the proper balance of herbs and whatever the heck else is inside a falafel. And at $12.99 actually seems like a deal in this day and age of horrible food inflation.
For the first time I went with something they call “Georgie’s Platter.” Honestly, I’m glad they have online ordering because that’s on par with ordering the Rooty Tooty Fresh ‘N Fruity at IHOP or the Slutty Brownie Cheesecake at Hipster Jr. Jr.’s favorite birthday cake joint. It’s just straight-up embarrassing to say out loud. Regardless, I ordered it, clueless to the food bomb I was about to unleash. Because Falafel Hut is not messing around. Upon returning home I removed my tin and plunked it on the counter, which immediately collapsed under the weight of the thing. Seriously, I felt like Mr. Olympia even getting that bag in the house. I uncovered my meal and was faced with an absolute mound of beef & chicken shawrma [sic], hummus, tahini, hot sauce and onions over rice. (And, yes, they misspell both baba ganoush and shawarma on their own menu, but, hey, they’re restaurateurs, not copy editors.) I have to admit that the sheer amount of food, and the vision of the beige and tan swirl of ingredients was a bit intimidating. But, ultimately, I am a machine, so I dug in. And ate. And ate. And ate. The hummus was nice as usual. The rice was cooked to perfection and the shawarma was appropriately crunchy, but also tender. If you’re afraid of garlic or salt, I would definitely go a different direction. Or if you have a sensitive tummy, you might want to go with just a plain kebab or something. But if you, like me, are an absolute glutton and can ingest a mountain of flavorful crunchy, mushy, salty, garlicky goodness with some heat, why not go for it? I wouldn’t suggest doing it in one sitting, however, unless your metabolism is ready for a jolt, but it is certainly something I’m looking forward to revisiting in a couple months when I can fit back in my pants so I can leave the house.
213 Bellevue Ave. – Montclair
973/746-7730
falafelhutnj.com
