I remember the first time I bit into fresh falafel.
Mike and I were in Amman, Jordan on our honeymoon, out and about just strolling along arm-in-arm, the way you’d expect people on their honeymoon to do. We passed a guy frying up falafel on a street corner; simultaneously, Mike’s stomach growled and I inhaled deeply, asking what that amazing smell was.
You know we had to stop and get some. (more…)