Saturday, June 20, 2015

A Falafelish to Remember

MMMMmmmm... Falafelish


So, I cooked up a mess of dried chickpeas. MMMM, chickpeas. I've gotten lazy about soaking them: just throw them in a slow cooker and add water and let 'em cook all night, and there you have it, beans. I had planned to make hummus and a stew or soup, but it turns out that I had a little more than I expected when all was said and done. I asked Michael whether he wanted chick pea burgers or a soup, and his reply was "falafel."

Well, now, that wasn't a choice, in large part because I do not know how to make it.

But, thanks to the magic of the internet, I managed something falafel-ish. Falafelish.

It's based on a combination of these two recipes on epicurios.com. I'm writing my process down not because I feel I improved on either recipe, but because both recipes state that you can used canned--and thus implying cooked--chickpeas.

Yeah. You can't.

Furthermore, I am one of those folks who hate cilantro, so substitutions were required.

Here we are:

  • 1 or more cups cooked chickpeas. I measured out 4 quarter cups of my cooked chickpeas, but it seemed rather like more than a cup.
  • 1 small onion, diced (about 1/2 cup)
  • 2 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
  • 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped
  • 1 tablespoon carrot greens, chopped
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1 teaspoon ground coriander
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried red pepper flakes (Of course I used Arwen's Dynamite for the Soul)
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 4 tablespoons of chick pea flour
  • enough plain breadcrumbs to be able to form patties with the whole mess above
  • About 6 cups vegetable oil for frying
Throw everything but the breadcrumbs into a blender or a food processor. Whirl that shit to pieces--it's going to be too wet to stop from forming a mash, but don't turn it into baby food. Let the chickpea mash rest in the fridge for about an hour.

When the mash has finished resting, add breadcrumbs. You are going to have to add them by feel, because there is no telling how wet a particular mash is going to be. You have added  enough breadcrumbs when you can roll the mixture into a ball (about the size of a golfball, per the other recipes, but I think mine were a bit smaller) and then flatten it to a patty and still be able to get it off your hands intact.

Heat the oil in a heavy frying pan. Add the patties, cook 'em, and drain 'em.

They were oddly pleasing, with a nice soft inside and a crispy outside, and Michael keeps eating them off the plate, suggesting that I may have to make something else for dinner tonight. Because they will be gone.