Zaytunes

     Walking down Atlantic, below 4th Avenue, in Brooklyn, it’s common to hear the call to prayer from the Al Farooq Mosque sandwiched between two small Muslim variety stores with huge chunks of shae butter the consistency and color of lamb fat sitting on tables out front. Black seed, a type of cumin eaten by elephants to aid their digestion, is a mainstay in these stores because many Atlantic Avenue shoppers believe it can heal any disease other than death. Not surprisingly, there’s a lot of Middle Eastern food on offer in this neighborhood (and surprisingly, a fair amount of Ital Caribbean cuisine too -- add a V to Ital, mon, for the answer to your question.) There are oddities such as pitza, which is the old Italian standby made with pita bread, and classics (a.k.a. cliches) such as lamb kabobs, and inauthentic offerings like the Greek fast food called gyro, which is made of minced lamb pressed into a leg shape and set on a skewer in a food warmer that resembles a hog farmer’s bug zapper. But by far the best bang for your buck is the  sandwich. And the best falafel is found a few blocks south of Atlantic, on Smith Street, at Zaytoons. The restaurant is often packed with groovy locals and their creatively dressed children, chowing down on platters of spicy merguez sausage with babaghanouj and hummus. But try to focus on the two or three balls of ground chickpeas mixed with onion, garlic, and parsley fried and set into a  pita pocket, topped with a mount of chopped tomatoes and lettuce drizzled with a creamy yogurt sauce. Falafel. There’s really nothing better, except for the foul, which is pronounced “fool.” At desperate moments I feel this salad, of course, suits me more for the name than the contents. But the fava beans stewed with tomatoes, green peppers and olive oil that make up foul are soul satisfying, like Valium in a bowl, only prettier. Ask for a tamarind drink, just so you can hear the waitress say they are out of it. Settle instead for a glass of loomi, a refreshing drink made from sun-dried lemons. Marvel at its dead yellow hue. Ahmad Samhan and Faried Assad, who own the place, say that “Zay Toons” means both “olives,” and “an offering of peace.” Last time I was there I got really upset because I had to wait so long for the check. So, “Zay Toons,” Ahmad, and “Zay Toons,” Faried.

I’ll be back.

Zaytunes

283 Smith Street at Sackett

Brooklyn