The people standing behind us in line described the experience as being “like the Soup Nazi.” These falafels had been recommended to me first by my mom, who was in Paris a few months ago, and subsequently by every single Paris food writer whose work I read in my trip research. (My favorite Paris-specific blogger that I’ve found is David Leibovitz. Serious Eats also recommends L’As, and they know what’s up.)
We waited about 10 minutes in line, during which someone came up to us, asked how many falafels and drinks we wanted, and then took our money and gave us a slip of paper. After being approached by no fewer than five con artists yesterday, we were concerned it might be a scam, but decided at the very least it was a very good one. Happily, it wasn’t. I got to the window first and the man making the falafels asked me, “Quelle genre de boisson que vous voulez?” Before I had time to mentally process his question and what my response would be, he shouted at me, “WHAT KIND OF DRINK DO YOU WANT?” Soup Nazi indeed. I’ll forgive his coarse demeanor, though, because the sandwich he made me was truly amazing.
The falafels themselves were delicious and fresh. I could see someone in the kitchen deep frying them as my sandwich was prepared, and they seem to go through them pretty quickly. I feel confident that the falafels on my sandwich were made no longer than 10 minutes ago, and most likely 5. They make the sandwiches really quickly, too. I think it all went from pita to cabbage to eggplant to falafel to tzatziki and hot sauce in about 20 seconds. Aforementioned falafel Nazi seemed angry with my sandwich. We walked about a block away and sat down in front of a shuttered store front and dug in. I don’t know how to describe it except to say that, when a piece of falafel fell out of my sandwich, rolled to the street, and a few pigeons attacked it, it truly felt like a part of my soul had been torn away from me. But I got over it and kept eating, and there were more falafels inside the sandwich. A lot of falafels, in fact. I worried that I might run out and be stuck with a mass of cabbage and tzatziki, but no! This was no poorly constructed sandwich! There were falafels abound until the very end, and where the falafels and tzatziki ended, a lovely morsel of hummus awaited. The best thing about this sandwich, I think, is everything was thought out. Every ingredient was perfect, and worked perfectly with every other component. The cabbage provided crunch, the falafels provided a nice meatiness, and the eggplant provided a foundation. I don’t even like eggplant but I ate it the fuck up and it was awesome.
L’As Du Fallafel | 34 rue des Rosiers, 4th Arr., Paris FR | 01 48 87 63 60
I know that I consistently spell Falafel with one L but L’As has two in their name. Google and Wikipedia agree that it should be spelled with one L, but if you really think you know better than me, you should be spelling it فلافل.
L’As does not have a website. Go there and get the Falafel.