Just a shout out to my vegetarian friends: I found out tonight that the red and green curries at Blue Orchid are not vegetarian even if you choose the tofu option; they contain shrimp paste. Likewise, the seared garlic entrée may contain fish sauce if you don't make a point to ask that it not be added.
Our server was veggie-aware and helpful, but had the misconception
that while a vegan
might object to shrimp and/or fish, a
vegetarian
would be okay with them. It's probably wise,
therefore, to tell the server you are vegan when ordering, even if you
are ovo-lacto.
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.
There used to be a restaurant at 27th and Q-R called Peace
Restaurant
. Before 9/11, it had a different, Arabic name that I
sadly can't remember. Along with some colleagues, I went there for lunch
some time ago and was underwhelmed. The menu was not friendly to
vegetarians—falafel was your only choice—and an old TV set
blared in the corner.
The place closed, though, and reopened about a month ago as Holy Land
.
One of the reasons Barbara and I enjoy our neighborhood is the variety
of restaurants all within walking distance of our house, and the new
Holyland bears this out.
There are still no vegetarian entrees on the menu, strictly speaking, there are plenty of dishes (appetizers, soups, sandwiches) to choose from, which can be mixed and matched. I've been there twice, now, and neither time did I leave wanting.
Both times I was went there, I had the falafel: I like falafel. My first experience was with the sandwich. It was satisfying, but in the flurry of dips, soups, and breads that were flying around the table, I never really got a handle on what the falafel itself was like. When we went back, I ordered the falafel plate to share with Barbara, specifically to give the falafel the center stage. It's tasty; not as bold as Jerusalem Cuisine's, but crisp and savory. Thumbs up.
The soups, also, are vegetarian. Barbara had the white bean soup the
first time we went. It looks something like a bowl of canned baked
beans, but looks can be deceiving. Barbara says, It's tomato-y and a
little lemony, not hot or sweet. Yummalicious!
(In her
defense, I asked for an adjective, but asked her to avoid good
and
tasty
"—I wanted to reserve those for myself.) When we went
back—by the way, going back is a good sign—we supplemented
our falafel plate with bowls of spinach soup. It has a zing to it, and
richness of the spinach flavor is a surprise.
The proprietor, Mr. Farhan, told us he gets the bread he serves from a variety of sources, sometimes baking them on the premises. Wherever our pita came from (it was off-site this time, I was told), it complemented the meal well, serving both as accompaniment and untensil for transporting tangy fool dip or smokey baba ghanooj.
Along with my food, I enjoyed a glass of hot tea. It's just black tea, as far as I can tell, but it lends an feeling of authenticity to the dining experience that Diet Pepsi lacks. (And it comes with the meal, free!)
Mr. Farhan told us he hopes, by varying the bread supplier and the menu every now and then, to keep his restaurant a fresh and interesting place to eat. We haven't experienced a menu change yet, but he's doing a decent job so far. J.J. Harder hit the nail on the head in his review for the Daily Nebraskan:
The environment won't make you pity refugees and their struggle, but instead might impress you with immigrants' abilities to transfer entrepreneurial skills to another country. Farhan knows what he is doing and runs a service-oriented, welcoming restaurant.
The restaurant's surroundings are utilitarian, but inside is clean and inviting.
It's enough to make us end our period of mourning for Jerusalem Cuisine, and even better because it's just down the street instead of across town. We're looking forward to our next visit.