October 7: Hallava Falafel

"Here. Take this." The night before he climbs onto a plane for Buffalo, my brother hands me a bright golden punch card bearing the head of a ram and the cryptic words "HALLAVA FALAFEL SEATTLE" on it.

I eye it suspiciously. "Is this some kind of Satanic joint? An 'attend 10 sacrifices and your 11th is free' kind of place?"

"No, no, it's really good. They're up near where I used to work. You should go there. Order the shawarma." He then also recommends I go to a Philly Cheesesteak joint at the corner of MLK and Rainier Avenue, so I know he's hoping I get shanked so his share of the inheritance goes up.

"OK. Um. Thanks." I know falafel is some kind of Mediterranean food, though I couldn't distinguish it from a gyro or tell you what goes into it. "Shawarma" is as foreign to me as "soju", another ingestible I just learned about from a group of Koreans I'm meeting in Vegas soon (I'm sure that won't end badly for my liver at all). "Hallava Falafel" is the name of a food truck. Ah. OK.

Monday morning, I pull up their web site, and discover that their truck will be outside of my building that day. I've already got lunch plans, so I look ahead in the schedule. October 7? Calendared.

So "falafel." Wikipedia tells me it's patties of mashed chickpea. "Shawarma" is the meat on the spit that I've seen in some Greek or middle-eastern restaurants. I didn't know any of this before lunch today, and told my co-workers such.

"It's lamb," one of them responded. "You ever have lamb?" Well, once, when my same fratricidal brother made Lamburger Helper on a camping trip. It was unremarkable. My wife gets gyros frequently, and I assume that it's lamb on there, but I really never asked. "Let me know how you like it."

It was... still unremarkable. The shawarma sandwich has a blend of beef and lamb, and the flavors combine to be very beef-like overall. The meat is flat, tender strips, like cheesesteak beef before it's shredded, but less stringy. A pita contains the meat/cabbage/beet relish combo.

I took the foil-wrapped sandwich, a box of double-dropped fries (served with tzatziki sauce and hummus), and a bottle of Mexican Coke (?!) up to the 8th floor cafeteria to eat. I'm glad I chose there instead of the windy park, because I was fortunate to have extra paper towels, a fork, and a bottle opener available. It's messy.

It's a heavy dish, and not the kind of thing I'd eat regularly, but I can check it off my list. The flavors were mild, and unlike many sandwiches, there wasn't anything I chose to pick off of it. The fries were very good, and the tzatziki sauce served over it reminded me of a zesty poutine. The hummus, on the other hand, was not a great fry topping. I ate about half of it, but it was too heavy of an accompaniment to finish.

Overall, it seemed to be well prepared and flavorful, and just not my thing. My card's got another punch, though, and I'll keep it around, just in case I'm in the mood next year. I've eaten a little lamb, and I'm still alive, bro. But I still couldn't tell you what makes shawarma different than a gyro.

Hallava Falafel
Food truck on Occidental and a permanent trailer off the north end of Boeing Field
Shawarma sandwich, fries, Coke, $18.63