The Best Falafel in Paris

France

By Kat Knapp on April 17, 2014

The land of meat and fish, baguettes and cheese, crepes and croissants – a vegans heaven right? Not. Trying to stick to a plant-based diet in France is like trying to convince non-Australians that Vegemite tastes good – virtually impossible.

But Paris isn’t just full of snails and frog legs anymore – it is a hub of international treats – curry, tacos, sushi and burgers (which apparently now rival baguettes in French sales), you will find it all on the streets of Paris. But you won’t find me in the McDonalds line on Boulevard Saint-Michel. At least not while Marais still thrives with Jewish treats…

The medieval area of Marais still bears traces of being the traditional Jewish Quarter. (In fact France is now home to the largest Jewish population in western Europe. With a population of 600,000 – including Yiddish-speaking Ashkenazi Jews originating from eastern Europe, and Sephardic Jews from Spain, North Africa and the Middle East). The Jewish influence in this part of the city makes it home to some pretty damn good kosher cuisine. On these crowded streets you will find bearded Jewish locals and tourists side-by side, indulging on the cities finest falafels.

Now, I am yet to dine in the Middle East, but if the falafel there is as good as the falafel at Paris’ L’As du Fallafel then I will book the next flight to Israel. Because these little chickpea wonder balls are AMAZING.

Eating a good falafel is a spiritual experience. A crispy shell with perfectly cooked tender flesh that doesn’t crumble like 3-day-old bread. They must be seasoned with the perfect ratio of herbs and spices and of course, that perfect hint of garlic.

But experiencing paris’ best falafel does not come easy. It is no secret anymore and tourists from all over the globe flock the front of L’As du Falafel to experience the famous deep-fried wonder ball firsthand. When my friend Kyle happened to be visiting the city during my time there I made sure we made a visit to the area specifically for the falafel, (and maybe because the area also doubles as Paris’ official gay district after hours).

You have two choices. You line-up or you line-up. We lined up. We opted for the dine-in experience, but for those of you wanting to take the messier authentic street falafel experience the slightly quicker line will get you a piece of pita stuffed to the brim with falafel, creamy tahini, lightly pickled cabbage, salted cucumbers, fried eggplant and perfectly-spicey harissa.

The wait is definitely worth it. On my first (of many) visits to the district it was freezing cold and raining, but the jolly local in front of us entertained us with conspiracy theories about missing planes in history and the extreme risks of air travel (Kyle did have a flight out in a number of days and obviously really appreciated the reminder of worst-case-scenario flying). By the time we knew exactly how planes malfunctioned and what to do if the pilot seeks our help we were at the front of the line. We could smell the deep-fried goodness, almost taste that perfect hummus. The rest is like a beautiful dream. A dream where I get metal cutlery and Kyle gets a plastic fork, which we are still a bit confused about…).

So if you’re in Paris and in desperate need of a break from croissants and cheese head straight to Marais. Hint: make sure you visit early in your trip because I can assure you, you will wanting to return – once, twice… Or every day.

PS After hours Marais is the place to be for all things gay and fabulous. So after you’ve eaten your body weight in falafel head to some of the well-known gay bars and enjoy the resurrection of Madonna over some provocatively named cocktails. (We may have had a ‘Sex on the Beach’ – or 6).