Mi va (oh my oh my) Mi

Rosa: In the words of the Artful Dodger, re-re wind. Back to meal number 2. The Marais... for FALAFEL. Jewishness and gayness (in the archaic joyful sense), squooshed together, and deep fried into crispy heaven sacks.. yes, mate.

Anyway, start at the beginning. I used to hate falafel because my mum pronounces it wrong. Like she pronounces 'trauma' wrong, and also the surnames of all teachers I have adored. Man, mispronunciation gets my goat.

But in Paris, all falafel experiences have been very good to excellent. My first was at Falafel King, where the head chef/deep fryer, a nice be-capped man called Jerome, gave me his telephone number. He probably fancied me or something because I am very beautiful. His heaven sacks were so good, I was tempted. If I married him, that would make me Falafel Queen..

I am very glad I didn't take the first offer. Jerome is not Falafel King. He is more of a Prince Regent. The King of the Chick pea mile is Mi Va Mi.

It is opposite the other (famous, whatevs) one - 'L'as de falafel' - endorsed by Lenny Jewish Kravitz. It has a long line due to Lenny and a good review in the NYT, but I like to call it "Ass de falafel". Clever. I mean, it's finnnne, but not great (the oil they fry in is off I think; it has a mild fishy gassiness to it).

But Mi Va Mi on the other hand! Whip me senseless and call me Andy!

Ben: Whip me senseless and call me Andy - indeed

Let me start at my beginning. I'm Jewish. In addition to saving money, Bill Clinton and Florida, I, like all other Jews (or at least all the good Jews - narelim, you know who you are!) love those deep fried balls of goodness.

My first falafels were consumed while still under the roof of my Mother. Dank micro-waved spheres procured from the evergreen M&S. They weren't terribly good. But my young imagination burst with the possibility of these critters - what deliciousness could potentially be had in such balls of deliciousness.

It was not until my Paris years that I truly discovered the premium goodness of this Jewish treat.

Like Rosa, I wandered through the dessert of falafel, struggling to find the promise land...

First, there was the Falafel King (Prince Regent at best!), then the As. The stamp of aproval from Lenny Kravitz, a half Jew, was just too darn convincing. And so I stuck on that As for quite a while, being assured it was the best. But, I always stared, longingly gazing at Mi-Va-Mi across the cobbles, wondering: what if? I never dared venture.

But then, one magical evening, I was shown the light. My 40 years of wandering were over: I had made it to the promise land. When Rosa swayed me, forced me to Mi-Va-Mi, I knew there was no going back. Now, my friendship with Lenny Kravitz is no more, I'll never again receive his amusingly worded Christmas Cards.

And, dammit, its worth it.

When I stuck those deep fried balls in my mouth, I knew there was no going back. I had fallen. The textures, the taste, the spicy tang - it was a perfect falafel.

Plus they gave extra aubergine, no supplementary cost. For a Jew like me, that was quite alright.