Houston's best falafel is at a bar in Clear Lake

If you are one of those folks always in pursuit of superior versions of falafel, those magical deep-fried orbs of ground pulses and herbs that are a staple of many Middle Eastern cuisines, you had better plan a little trip down to Rosewater in Clear Lake.
The falafel is house-ground by the kitchen that Pasha Morshedi installed two years ago at his accomplished cocktail lounge, where he tripled the 30-spot seating by adding an adjoining room and patio. The food here's as memorable and as painstakingly made as the drinks, a rarity in a genre where menus tend to be predictable afterthoughts.
Morshedi's an interesting guy whose keen palate, Iranian background and travels as a NASA astronaut-training contractor have shaped his menus. Even the name "Rosewater" hearkens back to ancient Persia, where this haunting elixir flavored with rose petals originated thousands of years ago.
Morshedi's standards are rigorous. Forking into a little globe of his falafel, I drew in a breath at the verdant greenery and craggy interior texture. We're talking fresh herbs in the mix—double the amount most recipes call for, he specified to his chef when they worked out the dish. There's lots of peppery parsley and a bit of dill and cilantro, along with fragrant dry spices like cumin, coriander and cardamom. It all goes into a meat grinder with the base of soaked chickpeas, which gives this falafel what Morshedi calls its "rustic" texture.
"We didn't want that pasty, almost uniform texture you usually find," he says. After decades of falafel sampling, I know that texture only too well.
This particular falafel is genius stuff, best savored with bites of vivid magenta turnip pickle and dabs of the garlicky tzatziki sauce. That's one of several sauce options, including an oh-so-Houston combo of ranch with zhug—the riotously hot serrano chile concoction made even greener with parsley and cilantro. That's the sauce Morshedi prefers for his own falafel consumption.
The dish comes free-range (in crackly-crusted "bites") or in a pita sandwich, both $9—a price which I can still afford.
"We have an Egyptian guy who’s a regular and he swears to us that they’re the best falafel that he’s ever had," says Morshedi. "Which is insane to think about considering that Egyptians consider themselves the inventors of falafel."
There's other good stuff, too: a highly respectable "Not Quite a Smashburger" made with 44 Farms beef; fresh-cut fries, a vanishing species; a fortifying hummus plate; wild chili fries with a Moroccan-flavored beef-and-lamb chili tumbled on top, along with zhug and (get this!) crumbled queso fresco. Not to mention flash-fried chickpeas that qualify as one of Houston's best bar snacks.
Morshedi recommends gin or tequila cocktails with the falafel. He'll pair it with a house margarita or a Bennett, which is just gin, lime, simple syrup and bitters; or a tequila white Negroni. I invariably seek out the well-made gin cocktails here, like the Green Ghost: a 1937 classic of Citadelle gin, lime and Green Chartreuse, which picks up the falafel's herbal tones.
So if you're the kind of traveler who heads straight to L'As du Fallafel (their spelling) when you're in Paris—you know who you are—you know what to do.
I-45 to Clear Lake City Boulevard, left a mile or so through El Camino Real, where Rosewater will be in the first shopping center on your right. You can thank me later.







L to R, from top: Rosewater's Green Ghost cocktail; flash-fried chickpeas; hummus plate with pita, zhug and crudités; falafel bites with turnip pickle and tzatziki; the original barroom counter at Rosewater; house burger with hand-cut fries; fries with Moroccan beef-and-lamb chili, zhug and queso fresco. Photos by Alison Cook
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