Scientific Discovery of the Century
Last night Barbara and I were out running around at dinner time. We
dropped off the recyclables we had been collecting and returned a
gallon of milk I had picked up that morning, but was well on the way to
be off
already. We were debating what to do about supper: pizza
night at Marin and Brian's had been suspended while Marin was out of town,
and Caitlin had gone off with her grandparents to see Swan Lake
at the Lied.
We decided to give Jerusalen [sic] Bakery and Restaurant at 19th and M a try. Barbara had been wanting to go there to see what it's like, and I was game. I knew about the bakery, but I didn't realize that there was a restaurant, too, until Barbara filled me in...
Jerusalen is a small storefront tucked far enough back from O Street to be out of the way. You might never know it's there unless someone told you what to look for. It's a mix of bakery, grocery store, and lunch counter run by an immigrant couple. It's set apart from other, similar businesses by the fact that he's from the Middle East and she's from Guatamala. The specialize in both Middle Eastern and Central American food. Their grocery inventory reflects this combination along with the menu.
Jerusalen itself is a little rough around the edges—a hodge-podge of fixtures, furnishings, and merchandise. The menu board's characters come in a variety of salvaged fonts, and there are signs around informing customers that, since they have no public restrooms, all food is served to-go.
Still, the pumpkin empanadas were tempting, and the smells of the cooking food made my mouth water.
In keeping with the international feel of the place, Barbara ordered a loroca and queso pupusa with black beans and rice on the side, while I opted for the falafel platter. Both meals came in generous portions, and the whole thing set us back seven bucks.
We scurried home, rushing to get there and eat before our food got cold. It was on arrival and opening up our to-go boxes that we made our major scientific discovery: Sophie, our cat, the obligate carnivore, loves falafel. She doesn't just deign to eat it; as soon as the box was opened, she jumped up on a chair and demanded her share.
Because we are vegetarians, we're not used to our cats begging for a taste of our dinner. Sophie, however, has always been more culinarily adventurous than the other cats, begging for things like broccoli and raiding the steamer for a florette of cauliflower. I had plenty of falafel, so I gave her a bit to see if that was what she was after, and she attacked it with gusto.
Our crazy cat loves falafel.
And who can blame her? It was aromatic and tasty, crisp on the outside and soft and moist in the middle. Barbara's pupusa was good, too. I had no idea what to expect from loroca, but it was interesting, if largely hidden by the cheese, at least in the bite I had. Barbara was amused by the fact that her side of rice was seasoned Middle East style.
Jerusalen, like many ethnic
groceries, is kind of a fun place
to go and look around. It's a chance to see and try things one might not
see or try otherwise. With Holy Land and El Rancho nearby, our falafel
and pupusa needs are largely met. However, I'm still planning a trip
back to try the pumpkin empanadas.
PS: It turned out Brian had made pizza anyway, and he kindly invited us to join him. After we finished our falafel pupusas there was no room for pizza, but Barbara invited him (and Nao and Jill and McClain) to join us for some banana cake and tea.