Peace in the Middle East (Village) - TS reviews her local Falafel

Aside from my cryogenically frozen guinea pig, Mr. Whiskers, and the smell of mom cooking Shake -N- Bake chicken tenders on any given Tuesday evening while I watch Price is Right, there is not a thing on this earth entire I love more than solo powerstuffing Falafel and Grape Leaves in NYC's own dirty East Village or Brooklyn's post art-school retard rodeo, Ye Olde Williamsburg. {Please note: I stuff solo because I have no friends.} (lies. -sb) Below find definitive conclusions to my comprehensive 3-month field study:

{Pre - script: Before reading any further please note that each outlet gets a .5 bonus for being open all nite, like every Mediteranean place in the world is, and for always welcoming, with open arms, at 3:30am or later, drunk sluts and normal dudes {dude TM's} who want to get their grub on. This makez for sensational people watching; solid fodder fer silent, mean-spirited razzing, which is my raison d'etre if ever i had one/knew what that meant.

Chickpea, St. Marks and 3rd Avenue, NYC - This place has no grape leaves at all, which is unabashed ridiculousness, and they know it. The falafel is just adequate. The staff, howevs, is five fucking stars; the girl with the mole and the baseball cap behind the counter will totally teach you how to make grape leaves if you act dissapointed enuff. The other small-fry flows me madd free sides because he clearly also wants to throw me the eff. Weird sidenote: "Chickpea," the name of this joint, is painted in Times New Roman size 567 point font down the front of the building. I may only be speaking fer myself here but I would so not want my 2700 dollar a month studio apartment to be snugly nestled on the 3rd floor behind the word "pea," jus sayin'. It's bad enuff to live on St. Marks, man.

SCORE: 3.5 points + default .5 open all nite bonus - 2 points for the
writing on the building and the no grape leaves bass ackwardness = total points, 2.

Damask, Avenue A and 5th Street, NYC - The bald guy workin the graveyard shift has this stone faced expression 100% of the time and is a total meanjeans, all zero fucking stars style. The grape leaves are dry compared to Cinderella Falafel, whose grape leaves reign supreme. This partic make of sandwhich will stink you out of home, office, and subway, which, when you've devoted yrself to a dxe life of celibacy, really matters not. But if yr going to keep trying, under the cloak of darkness, to unsuccessfully kick it to Brandon Reilly, it is advisable to avoid Damask for 3 to 16 days prior to actualizing any {embarassing enuff} eff throwing attempts.

SCORE TO FOLLOW: I am so fucking tired.


BONUS SB COMMENTARY-- i once brought a damask falafel slurry into a movie at the two boots dealie on 3rd st and you could practically see the green smell waves coming off my dinner like it was pepe le peu. even in the dark i could understand (understank?) where the expression "giving the stink eye" comes from. i left the movie early so i wouldn't get discovered as the source of stink/lynched.



Cinderella, St. Marks and 2nd Avenue - HOLY CRAP, the grape leaves here are twelve fucking stars, so sweet man. Totes unbeatable, like on some 2001 era Tiger Woods level. They also stand alone in terms of stacking the falafel sandwhich components correctly; each ingredient one on top of the other, allowing for a cornucopia of savory goodness in every last bite. {Insert Pepsi commercial style thumbs up here.} Main helper dude is so nice, but all like hubbah hubbah nice, dirtbag smile style, that one just can't help but feeling objectified. Watch out fer well dressed teenage homeless scraps with expensive dogs all beggin' fer change rite outside the entrance.

SCORE: 5.5 + default .5 open all nite bonus = 6 - 1 point for poor people/objectification combo = total points, 5.

Pita Power, on Bedford btwn North 7th and North 6th, is all gourmet and shit. I have never had their grape leaves but let's pretend I did and say they were too mushy. Their 'flavored balls' are delicious and rad but for years management and staffers gold fronted non-dairy status until, after an Action 13 Expose hosted by Roz Abrams, the Vegan police came and revoked their club membership card. The sizable staffer lady with frosted lipstick who rolls the late 80's Jersey style "claw" bangs always throws maje tude but douses that shit in Trappey's Red Devil; the Jag-you-are of cheap hot sauce, essentially racing from behind to snag the baton from the equally 'tudey Damask dude and win the Regional RudeNotRude Championships. Additionally, one of the counter boys used to be in, like, Native Nod or Indian Summer or Antioch Arrow or something and occasionally gets recognized by area musical elitists as such. Last but not least, one time 3 dude TM's got in a sick fight right outside and broke the giant front glass window and door. PP management left the area covered in duct tape for more than 5 weeks. OG Bonx!


SCORE: 5 + default .5 open all nite bonus - 1 for Claw Bangs 'tude + 2
for Trappey's Red Devil and Indian Summer and/or NativeNod and/or Antioch Arrow affiliation - 1.5 for misrepresentation of vegan eats + 4 for sick dude TM fight and inexcusably lengthy use of duct tape = total points, 7.

Oasis, on North 7th btwn Bedford and Berry,
smells like ass 24/7. All the chairs are either too high or too low for the counter, and there is so much aging shawarma visible it makes me throw up a little. The front is all glass so if yr tring to eat 3 sandwhiches and 2 {secret} servings of Baklava than be sure any number of kids with that flock of seagulls haircut are gonna be privy to yr binge. The falafel is unmatched because they put pickles in it, howevs, the grape leaves are sub-par because they are too tuff. I know this for a fact even though I have never had them.

SCORE TO FOLLOW: I am still so fucking tired.



DECISION: Class, please meet the winner of this year's NYC Area A+ Bad Breath Price-Point Pocket Meal, PITA POWER.







OTHER DECISION: Props to the author for writing a review about falafel and grapes leaves having only eaten the grape leaves at one of the 5 establishments reviewed. Viva la foundation of anything predicated on lies!

In super summing up, Shawarma is kindof gross and makes me throw up a little, as does the thought of Bea Arthur throwing the eff, as do eggs. In double super summing up, Kate"s joint has the nastiest freaking Marlon Blando style hummus/epoxy ever.

Mini bonus review by sb. That place in bk she likes to which I have been because I am fat and lazy...and am missing 3 toes on my right foot since that mini bike accident that never happened. (it is called zytoons and you know it's good cuz of the liberal application of tahini on everything. i think it's even drizzled into the diet coke. and oh those rock bottom bk prices! when you're there, you're family!* (*=semites only, sorry). -sb)

-ts (and sb on graphix and back-up opinions) (don't forget, sb also) (an sb concept and production)