Mamoun’s Falafel Restaurant In New Haven Is One Of This Editor’s Oldest Favorites

Except for Sally’s Apizza and Louis’ Lunch, I have been dining at Mamoun’s longer than at any other New Haven restaurant.

So many venerable Elm City favorites have fallen by the wayside. Basel’s with its dolmathes, its shashlik and its belly dancing are distant memories, and those old enough to remember it know that no Greek restaurant in Connecticut, sadly, has come close to replacing it. Hatsune, New Haven’s original Japanese restaurant, is also long gone. But Mamoun’s endures to this very day.

Mamoun’s opened in 1976. The original Mamoun’s opened in 1971 in Greenwich Village, and claims to be the oldest falafel restaurant in New York City. For a few years, there was a Mamoun’s in Middletown, Connecticut. There’s a second Mamoun’s in New York now, and a new Mamoun’s is scheduled to open in Hoboken, New Jersey.

Mamoun’s has changed little over the years, but my relationship with it has evolved over time. My father, a Yale Biology professor, introduced me to Mamoun’s shortly after it opened, when I was home from Cornell on break. My parents and I visited it often during my college years. With a huge youthful appetite, I always ordered the same thing—a falafel sandwich, a hummus sandwich and a baba ganoush sandwich, a large cup of tamarind juice, and for dessert, either a piece of Turkish delight or baklava paired with wonderful strong coffee that turned to sludge at the bottom.

I took a year off from school after I married my first wife and graduated from college to apply to law school. I worked as a laboratory animal technician in Yale’s Osborne Memorial Lab, taking care of mice, rats and rabbits. (There were also occasions when I took care of chickens and even the vampire bats of Dr. Alvin Novick, known early for his National Geographic specials and later for his AIDS activism. I preferred the bats—chickens are the stupidest critters alive.) I found the professors, grad students and post-docs easy to work with—the Annie Le tragedy mystifies me. My wife and I ate at Mamoun’s frequently, eagerly and cheaply. During the Iranian Hostage Crisis (the owners, I believe, are of Syrian descent), we dined there as often as possible, fearing the restaurant wouldn’t survive the anti-Middle East feelings of that period. A couple of times, we were its only customers.

During my law school years at the University of Michigan and my clerkship year in Oregon, we visited Mamoun’s only infrequently. But by the mid-1980s, we were back living in New Haven and frequenting Mamoun’s again. I continued to meet my parents there on occasion.

When I split from my first wife, I brought dates to Mamoun’s, a good indicator of whether or not we were on the same wavelength. Mamoun’s may have outlasted my first marriage, but my second wife also embraced it. Ann especially liked the moujedrah, finding it not only delicious but pleasing to her digestion. Sadly, Mamoun’s also outlasted my Dad, who had introduced me to it. I still think I glimpse him striding down Science Hill, but it’s just wishful thinking.

Mamoun’s may serve simple, inexpensive fare,

but it has always been the standard against which I have measured other Middle Eastern restaurants. And I may have dined at dozens of them by now around the country and the world, but it remains a favorite. It seems, in the words of David Byrne, the “same as it ever was.” Yes, there’s a greater selection of desserts than there used to be,

and mango juice (which I haven’t tried) has replaced lemonade (it was absolutely great) in the drinks cooler,

and there’s an ATM in the joint now, but those are about the only obvious differences. I don’t think the furniture or décor has changed one iota.

Bundles of New Haven Advocates are still deposited on the entry shelves for the bohemian audience the restaurant attracts. Mamoun’s is open till three in the morning virtually every day of the year, making it a great place to satisfy the late-night munchies. But depending who’s on duty, the people cooking your dinner may have been born long after the Iranian Hostage Crisis.

I tend to eat vegetarian when I visit Mamoun’s, but my buddy Bob craves meats imbued with the flavor of the grill. During my latest visit, I ordered my usual tamarind juice, which I just love for its balance of sweetness and acidity.

I ordered a vegetarian platter, which includes three beautifully crunchy falafel balls, salad with tahini sauce, beautifully seasoned hummus, nice coarse baba ganoush, and plenty of pita bread for just $7.75.

Bob’s combo with meat

had some of everything I had plus a goodly amount of grilled lamb

for only $9.75. We also ordered the moujedrah,

which you see here in close-up.

A basket of pita bread was appropriate accompaniment.

We finished with baklava

and Turkish delight.

A word on Turkish delight. The first Turkish delight I had was Fry’s in Britain, and it was a delightful commercial candy of rose gelatin coated in milk chocolate that, according to a Wikipedia entry, was launched by Cadbury in 1914. It’s depressing to think of Cadbury under Kraft Foods, but Fry’s is apparently produced in Poland now. I’m guessing that the kind of Turkish delight I grew up on was the same kind that encouraged Edmond to betray his siblings to the White Witch in The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe.

The Queen let another drop fall from her bottle on to the snow and instantly there appeared a round box, tied with green silk ribbon, which, when opened turned out to contain several pounds of the best Turkish Delight. Each piece was sweet and light to the very center and Edmond had never tasted anything more delicious.

I cite the phrase “sweet and light to the very center” in support of my belief. By contrast, the kind of Turkish delight one encounters in Middle Eastern cooking is usually studded with nuts and dusted with powdered sugar rather than covered in chocolate. It’s also delightful, and I have a passion for both types.

I recommend you visit Mamoun’s, not only for the Turkish Delight but for the many authentic and inexpensive Syrian delights you’ll encounter.

Mamoun’s Falafel Restaurant, 85 Howe Street, New Haven, 203-562-8444, www.mamouns.com