Falafels. Taameyya. Whatever you call them, the rich spice that seems to emanate from their crispy, filling deliciousness will make your home smell magical for a week. Let's break down how to prepare these at home along with a quick cucumber and tomato salad so you don't have to spend $14 on appetizers at a traditional Israeli/Middle Eastern joint.
Shopping List:
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Hardware:
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Prep:
Drain, rinse, and dry your chickpeas. I like to do this on a good tea towel and roll them around to remove some of the skins (hey, you're killing two birds with one stone, and you aren't actually killing any birds to cook this meal). You'll be processing the chickpeas anyway, so you can be as violent as you want in this drying process.
You can make the tabbouleh way ahead of time and will only get better in the fridge as all the flavors get happy.
Get some water going and cook your bulgur wheat until it's tender. I treat this like rice and let it simmer to soak up liquid, but however the bag tells you to cook it, do it that way. Don't listen to me.
Whilst the wheat cooks, dice up your tomato and cucumber into however large of chunks you deem necessary. It's really dealer's choice on this one. Hack off a ton of curly parsley and toss all this jazz into a bowl with good olive oil, a lot of sumac, some kosher salt, and a hefty squeeze of lemon. Whenever that bulgur wheat gets done (drain off any water if it's saturated), toss it all up and throw it in the fridge to cool.
Now, whip out your food processor and throw in those chickpeas, with a good half of an onion, a few cloves of garlic, a hefty handful of cilantro, some parsley, salt, cumin, and black pepper. For consistency's sake (quite literally), you'll need to add *some* amount of AP flour to this mixture once it's been pulverized a decent amount. I know, I know, I hate measurements, but generally you'll need like a half of a cup of flour per regular-sized can worth of chickpeas. Be sure to scrape down the sides of your food processor until you get a tacky, somewhat sticky dough.
Pinch off chunks of the dough and roll 'em up onto a piece of wax paper on your counter. Don't be like me (see below:) and make your falafels all different sizes. In your hand, flatten these guys out to your desired thickness.
Heat up the canola oil. If you can get it close to 350 deg F, that's great, if not, just make sure it's not smoking.
While that's heating up, feel free to make some tahini 'yogurt' dressing. I do this by whisking together some mayo, coconut milk, sumac, and tahini until you've got a decently runny dressing. This stuff should adhere to the falafels long enough for you to completely devour them.
The Business:
Place a few (don't crowd the pan) of your raw falafel batter into the hot canola oil and begin frying them on one side (or both if you're using a deep fryer). The joy about this is that you can't really mess it up. Once it's crispy on one side, flip it over and repeat. They'll be done enough in the center if you've flattened them enough.
Evacuate these bad boys to a wire rack with some paper towels to drain.
Serve with the tabbouleh and dressing. Sprinkle heavily with za'atar spice and dig in. Eat it with a good warm, toasty pita for maximum enjoyment.
Drain, rinse, and dry your chickpeas. I like to do this on a good tea towel and roll them around to remove some of the skins (hey, you're killing two birds with one stone, and you aren't actually killing any birds to cook this meal). You'll be processing the chickpeas anyway, so you can be as violent as you want in this drying process.
You can make the tabbouleh way ahead of time and will only get better in the fridge as all the flavors get happy.
Get some water going and cook your bulgur wheat until it's tender. I treat this like rice and let it simmer to soak up liquid, but however the bag tells you to cook it, do it that way. Don't listen to me.
Whilst the wheat cooks, dice up your tomato and cucumber into however large of chunks you deem necessary. It's really dealer's choice on this one. Hack off a ton of curly parsley and toss all this jazz into a bowl with good olive oil, a lot of sumac, some kosher salt, and a hefty squeeze of lemon. Whenever that bulgur wheat gets done (drain off any water if it's saturated), toss it all up and throw it in the fridge to cool.
Now, whip out your food processor and throw in those chickpeas, with a good half of an onion, a few cloves of garlic, a hefty handful of cilantro, some parsley, salt, cumin, and black pepper. For consistency's sake (quite literally), you'll need to add *some* amount of AP flour to this mixture once it's been pulverized a decent amount. I know, I know, I hate measurements, but generally you'll need like a half of a cup of flour per regular-sized can worth of chickpeas. Be sure to scrape down the sides of your food processor until you get a tacky, somewhat sticky dough.
Pinch off chunks of the dough and roll 'em up onto a piece of wax paper on your counter. Don't be like me (see below:) and make your falafels all different sizes. In your hand, flatten these guys out to your desired thickness.
Heat up the canola oil. If you can get it close to 350 deg F, that's great, if not, just make sure it's not smoking.
While that's heating up, feel free to make some tahini 'yogurt' dressing. I do this by whisking together some mayo, coconut milk, sumac, and tahini until you've got a decently runny dressing. This stuff should adhere to the falafels long enough for you to completely devour them.
The Business:
Place a few (don't crowd the pan) of your raw falafel batter into the hot canola oil and begin frying them on one side (or both if you're using a deep fryer). The joy about this is that you can't really mess it up. Once it's crispy on one side, flip it over and repeat. They'll be done enough in the center if you've flattened them enough.
Evacuate these bad boys to a wire rack with some paper towels to drain.
Serve with the tabbouleh and dressing. Sprinkle heavily with za'atar spice and dig in. Eat it with a good warm, toasty pita for maximum enjoyment.