I was editing a travel magazine when Yemen briefly opened to tourism in 1990, and I travelled there with a Bahraini photographer who eased the visa process. Sana’a was unlike anywhere I had seen: those early “skyscrapers” of mud brick, and in the countryside, the way drivers treated mountain roads as if gravity were negotiable. Parts of our route were cancelled when villages closed to outsiders during tribal disputes; the sharp, curved jambiyas at people’s waists were not decorative.
The trip ended at a small camp by the Red Sea, just me, Dayanna the photographer and our guide, Yahya. Fishermen hauled in their nets at dusk. Armed men wandered through at one point, and Yahya sent them on their way without fuss. Supper came wrapped in newspaper from a nearby village – grilled fish and local cheese – and it remains one of the most memorable meals I’ve eaten.
In Bahrain, where I was living at the time, friends invited me to Eid gatherings and long desert meals, including goat cooked slowly over embers. Those years left me with a lasting fondness for the food of the Middle East and north Africa, the kind Sami Tamimi writes about in Falastin with the clarity of someone who hears the stories as much as the recipes.
All of which is only to explain why Falafel on Essex Street in Temple Bar has become a quiet favourite. Not because it’s grand – it isn’t – but because the first time I stopped in for a shawarma, the place had the kind of ease I associate with kitchens that serve people with true hospitality. There’s always a chat.
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It’s the evening, and a Palestinian flag hangs above a flask of free soup. Aws Kafaji, the owner, and his cousin Dia, who runs the restaurant, say they want to bring a taste of Iraq to Dublin – not the dramatic version, just the daily one: hospitality, calm, plates passed across a counter.
The menu is straightforward: falafel comes in Turkish, Palestinian or Iraqi styles, as wraps or plates with salad, pickles and their house sauces, with baba ghanouj, hummus or tahina depending on the version.
Starters cover the standard mezze – vine leaves, sambousak in several fillings, kibbeh, hummus with naan – alongside their own falafel (€6–€11). From the grill come lamb doner, mixed kebabs of chicken shawarma and lamb, and a mixed shish of chicken and kofta, served either in a wrap or on a plate with salad and rice or naan (€12–€18).
The Palestinian falafel (€13.90) arrives as a generous spread: five crisp, golden orbs with a thin drift of tahina across the top, steaming hot. The crust gives a faint crack when you bite into it. Beside them, a scoop of hummus sits with a gloss of olive oil and a dusting of paprika, the centre marked by a single black olive.
The salad is simple – tomato, lettuce, red cabbage, pickles – cut in irregular pieces and dressed lightly. A pot of their chilli sauce sits in the corner, orange and sharp, half-folded into the garlic sauce beside it. The warmth of the falafel, the cool hummus and the acidity of the pickles do the work.
The mixed shish comes on a wide, black plate, the chicken and kofta laid out in a loose line across the top. The chicken pieces are thick, lightly charred at the edges, their orange marinade catching the light. The lamb kofta is spectacular. It’s a little uneven, with the rough texture that comes from being shaped by hand, charred and jagged at the edges, like a smash burger.
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The house-made naan-style flatbread that comes with both dishes is also very good. The salad is a scatter of lettuce, red cabbage, cucumber, olives, pickled turnip and a tangle of mild peppers, with a spoonful of good tabbouleh tucked in among it all.
There is an option to have the dish as a complete meal for an additional €5, which we do. It includes standard thin-cut chips and a soft drink. We also have a mint tea (€3.50).
For all the colour and noise of Temple Bar, this small room keeps a different pace.
After years of meals across the Middle East, I recognise something here: not the scenery, but the instinct to feed whoever arrives. A plate of falafel, a kofta still warm from the grill, a cup of mint tea – the simplest things done with care are what carry the place.
Dinner for two with two soft drinks was €45.30.
The Verdict: A small room in Temple Bar serving Iraqi and Palestinian plates with quiet confidence.
Food provenance: MJI Meats, chicken from family farm in Tallaght (not free-range).
Vegetarian options: Mezze and falafel plates.
Wheelchair access: Fully accessible with an accessible toilet.
Music: Arabic.
