Nik and I were out and about downtown yesterday, at the Cheese Festival at Pike Place Market amongst other places. Nik was in a falafel mood, so we decided to try Falafel King on 1st Avenue. I’ve walked by this place hundreds of times, but never ate there. My falafel loyalty used to go to Zaina on 3rd Avenue, but they lost their lease and had to move elsewhere. We got our sandwiches to go and walked down to this little park next to the market with a nice view of the water.
I took one bite and said, “Damn, this is garlicky.” The sandwiches were all right but not as good as Zaina and not even in the same ballpark as NYC institutions like Mamoun’s. An hour after lunch we still had a strong garlic taste in our mouths. We stopped off to get some coffee and a pack of mints. That one-two punch helped but the garlic taste lingered. When we got home I immediately brushed my teeth. Then I brushed them again before bed, only to wake up this morning with the faint taste of garlic still in my mouth. Jesus H. I probably could have killed vampires just by breathing on them yesterday.
So Falafel King? No. Garlic King? Oh yes.