Photos by Chris Shott

Young & Hungry dropped by the Northeast D.C. eatery for a bite of Sissi's exclusively super-starchy sandwich, priced at $6.50, last night. And it tastes, well, pretty much like you'd expect a pile of greasy fries, smothered in ketchup and creamy cole slaw, then wrapped into a griddled pita, to taste: full of fat and guilt. (The menu also mentions pickles in the mix, but mine had none.) Sissi's new eatery might trace its roots to the Middle East. But this thing seems entirely American to me. Vendors should hawk it at the Iowa State Fair, if they don't already.

After a few bites...

Subsequently dissected....

Photos by Chris Shott

The road to franchising your restaurant is paved with good intentions. Amsterdam Falafel proprietors Scott and Arianne Bennett would know: “To be honest, I was thinking about [franchising] from day one," says Scott. "We have a very franchisable model, so why not?”

But, four years ago, when the Bennetts set out to open up a second location on Capitol Hill, Scott broke his leg and plans were scrapped. That turned out to be a blessing in disguise, he says,  since the intricate machinations of setting up a second shop weren't really in place yet. "We were light years off." Now, after careful coaching from FranPoint Partners, a sister falafel store is closer than ever before.

The Bennetts even have a location in mind: Boston. Although the D.C. pita moguls don't know the area well, one promising franchise candidate was all it took to send them on a quick trip to Beantown. And the visit confirmed that Boston was a fit: "Lots of walking neighborhoods, kind of like our neighborhood," says Arianne. "Families, tourists, very much a community."

There are still issues to iron out, though. The would-be Bostonian owner is still looking for a property, meaning that other hopeful franchisees could very well be open before the store in Beantown. Still, at Amsterdam's original location in Adams Morgan, a small jar on the counter sits with the following message: "Are you from Boston? The next Amsterdam Falafelshop is making tracks for Boston. If you live in that area, drop in a card and we’ll call you when we open."

"Last time I checked, there were 31 cards," Arianne says with a smile.

Photo via Flickr user joelogon using a Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic Creative Commons License.

In the world of fast-casual food concepts, it’s a little too easy to write off Cava Mezze Grill as a Greek version of Chipotle. In front of a sneeze guard-protected front counter, you’re ushered through a series of meat-and-topping construction stops, where you select fillers to go inside a pita instead of a tortilla (or in a carb-less, biodegradable bowl). You have pork, beef, and chicken options. You can easily go sans meat. There’s a refrigerated beverage case behind the cash register. You bus your own table or section of metal-clad countertop. There are directions for separating recyclables from trash and compost.

It’s a winning formula. The new eatery in Bethesda sits opposite an outpost of Sweetgreen, a local chain that follows a similar game plan, but with salad wraps. And Cava wouldn’t look out of place in Clarendon, or Gallery Place, or Dupont Circle. But that’s just daydreaming. For now, the D.C. area’s newest proto-chain is just a new eatery in a crowded marketplace that is increasingly demanding sustainable, healthy, reasonably priced, and convenient food options.

But Cava, if it plays its cards right, should be able to multiply, its brand solidified by its owners’ Cava Mezze restaurants on Capitol Hill and in Rockville, and by having Whole Foods carry its dips and spreads.

Is it all a gimmick? There’s a method, for sure. Walking in, I expected an underwhelming copycat. Instead I discovered both a pleasing variation on the Chipotle idiom and a clean, inventive update of the tired stuffing-and-pita joint. If you’ve ever drowned your meal in toppings at Amsterdam Falafelshop, then the far-more-restrained Cava might seem downright revolutionary.

Cava isn’t exactly selling itself as the thinking man’s Mediterranean wrap place. The eatery’s promotional materials profess a philosophy of “big flavor with a small footprint.” But after a few visits, it’s clear that those big flavors happen to be pretty complex, and are worth studying closely.

If you’re comparing Cava to Chipotle, then the newcomer’s pork option, loukaniko, shows up the national burrito chain’s carnitas. Instead of shredded, seasoned pork, one of Cava’s founders, Dimitri Moshovitis, adapted a family pork sausage recipe, using leeks, fennel seeds, salt, pepper, cayenne pepper, and orange zest, a defining ingredient of traditional loukaniko.

This sausage doesn’t come in tubular form. It’s divided into irregular bite-size chunks, and I combined it with cabbage salad, tomato and onion salad, red pepper and eggplant, and “crazy feta,” a thicker, spreadable version of the crumbled white Greek cheese, with some jalapeño for added kick. (You can opt for normal feta if you like.)

That combo, by the way, clocks in at under 800 calories when served in a pita, according to Cava’s handy online nutrition calculator. It’s filling, but it doesn’t tread into food-coma territory.

I was less pleased with the lamb, which was dry, though still flavorful. When combined with crazy feta and rice, the result was a not-so-pleasing gummy mouthful.

Cava CEO Brett Schulman says the lamb can be tricky to nail. "We actually had an issue this week where our kitchen crew trimmed too much fat off the lamb after braising before finishing on the grill," he says. "There is a fine line with the lamb on the grill getting too dry if they trim too much fat."

The ground sirloin, however, had the right amount of juice. Any more, and it could have turned the pita into a soggy mess, depending on the wetness of the other toppings and the rice's success sponging everything up.

That’s a common problem with some pita-and-filler places like Amsterdam Falafelshop and Maoz. An overzealous customer can overwhelm pita creations with a gluttonous adventure through the toppings bar. You have the power to create a masterpiece or a mess.

Because Cava limits the number of toppings and simplifies the assembly line, it’s hard to go totally out of control: You’re just directing the process, not physically building your meal. That has allowed Cava to perfect the options it offers, stressing fresh ingredients that have been carefully adapted for a fast-casual setting. The process of translating recipes to the service environment, Schulman says, has created some pleasant surprises, including the falafel. Cutting one open reveals a chunky, multiple-texture interior. The moist innards are hand-mashed, which creates pockets of creamy, crushed chick peas, onions, parsley, and cilantro. A bit of flour helps bind it all together. It’s a refreshing change from the dry and crunchy falafel you’re used to. It’s not deep fried, but flash fried for 30 to 45 seconds.

Another pleasant surprise is the lentil soup, which consists of lentils, bay leaves, onion, garlic, salt, pepper, and some red wine vinegar for a touch of acidity. It has a satisfying, even texture, with a nice bite. It’s served a bit too hot, though, but that can be hard to avoid with packaging designed to transport hot liquids. Still, if Chipotle served soup as a side item, it’s hard to imagine it tasting this good.

* * *

The first thing you’ll notice about Litestars, another new, local fast-casual eatery, is its clinical, cafeteria-like feel. There’s a barrier-separated queue designed to shuttle customers through several food stations, complete with electronic display screens with menu information. You grab a tray and push it past a case containing mini-quiche-like tartlets and a cluster of transparent dispensers of Litestars’ trademarked Soupdrinks, each one a different shade of yellow or orange. The menu itself may be the most unique visual, offering a degree of nutritional detail about chef Annie Leconte’s recipes—and the various Food and Drug Administration guidelines each of them adhere to—that sets Litestars apart from even the most regulated of chain eateries.

When Litestars opened on L Street NW on the edge of the Golden Triangle Business Improvement District last fall, its promotional materials proclaimed it to be “the bistro of the future,” providing nutritious food options for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Instead of a wrap-centric approach, Leconte, a native of France, offers tartlets, Soupdrinks, and salads. But tartlets and Soupdrinks aren’t exactly standard fast-casual fare. That’s sort of the point.

“I’ve been passionate about nutritious food,” Leconte says. Every option has been meticulously tested and is low in fat, cholesterol, sodium, carbohydrates, and sugar. The Soupdrinks never come to a boil, a technique that preserves minerals like potassium, iron, and magnesium. The tartlets, each with a different combination of fresh ingredients, use white whole wheat flour, which is high in fiber. The shortening utilizes palm oil, which is lactose-free and devoid of bad stuff like trans fats and sodium.

Naturally, everything is fresh. “With many fast-casual places, they don’t prepare their food on the spot,” Leconte says. “That we do. We don’t even have a freezer.”

But what about taste? The Soupdrinks are low-sodium—though Leconte reassures me they do have some salt—and are mostly blends of vegetables like tomato, carrots, sweet potatoes, and eggplants. Most of the concoctions I tried in recent weeks needed some extra kick. For that, Litestars has stationed its special seasoning blend—an herby, salty mix—around the dining area as a tableside salt-and-pepper substitute.

A Soupdrink can be an unusual concept for the uninitiated. I generally think of soup as a meal. I like different textures and elements, which you won’t get with one of Leconte’s puree-like creations, which the eatery describes as a “beverage” on its website. It’s served in a soda-style cup, from which you can drink on the run if you’re pressed for time. That’s not quite my favorite way to enjoy soup, but I did feel energized for the next few hours, and my appetite was sated.

There are plenty of gluten-free options spelled out clearly on the menu. The Soupdrinks are all gluten-free, and many are vegan. You can plan out a nutritional strategy pretty easily. You can count calories, if you please.

A 12 oz. container of the Twister Soupdrink, described as “a voulté made of eggplant,” clocks in at 265 calories. On the current menu, the highest calorie Soupdrink is the Fizzly, a “unique taste of red beets,” which has 565 calories if you get a 20-ounce serving. My favorite was the Sea Breeze, a zippy blend of zucchini and onions that didn’t need additional seasoning, like some of the other Soupdrinks. There’s just 305 calories in a 16-ounce serving.

While a good chunk of the menu is vegetarian and vegan, there are some meat options—albeit meat that fits into Leconte’s nutritional regimen and controlled portion size. Locally sourced bison is ground and paired with onion and tomato for a pleasing tartlet. A turkey tartlet is inspired by a frittata, with egg whites and crispy apples.

The tartlets are all crispy, savory, and delicate. Pick one apart with a biodegradable fork and you’ll detect more elaborate flavors. But they’re subtle, not broad-shouldered. Leconte doesn’t want to weigh down your stomach, but treat your better nutritional angels.

And that approach might turn off some diners. A mushroom omelet is described on the breakfast menu as a “Denver omelete without bacon and cholesterol.” It’s a subtle tsk-tsk. But it’s also a reminder of how used we are to fat and sodium.

Like Cava Grill, Litestars is trying new concepts that toy with our perceived notions of what fast-casual eating is and isn’t. With either place, you’re forced to think a little more about what you’re eating. Let’s see if these new ventures take root and multiply. CP

Cava Grill, 4832 Bethesda Ave, 301-656-1772

Litestars, 2101 L St. NW, 202-293-0281

Photo of Cava Mezze Grill by Darrow Montgomery; photo of Litestars by Michael E. Grass

Or at least add this nifty flip-and-catch routine to Amsterdam's training manual as the falafel shop starts taking over America.

So the news broke this week that after years of working out the details, Amsterdam Falafelshop will finally start franchising its delicious fried chickpea concept. As Joe Spinelli told me on Monday, the Adams Morgan falafel operation could soon become a monster, with more than 100 shops within the next seven years.

"This is going to [be] a very hot concept," Spinelli e-mails me.

So who is Joe Spinelli and what does he have to do with Amsterdam Falafelshop?

Good question. Spinelli is the co-owner of FranPoint Partners, a restaurant franchise and development firm based in Annapolis. He and his business partner, Richard Sharoff, have been working with Scott and Arianne Bennett, owners of the Falafelshop, on setting up and running the company that will oversee the many future Amsterdam franchises.

They're also the guys responsible for the long delay in getting this project off the ground. It seems that Sharoff and Spinelli know a few things about franchises. They know that unless you have all your systems in place, the new franchise concept could fall flat on its face. So Sharoff and Spinelli examined every facet of the Amsterdam Falafelshop business, from ordering to accounting, and made sure that each procedure was as streamlined and efficient and profitable as possible.

"It was a process that we knew would take a long time," says Arianne Bennett. "But we didn't know it would take this long."

The most minute details are important in the franchise business, Bennett notes. Things that a typical small business would never notice, like a .2 percent rise in food costs, can apparently have a dramatic impact when you start dealing with the large orders involved with franchises. FranPoint helped the Bennetts develop a system to track even the tiniest changes in food costs.

But some things the Bennetts had to do on their own. Like break down every recipe, including those for the nearly 20 different salads on the toppings bar, to make sure that the proportions were exactly right and could be easily replicated, even by some high-school flunkie making minimum wage. They also had to write several different franchisee manuals, including an employee handbook and a recipe book.

"I just sat here and banged this out at night," Arianne Bennett says. Lawyers, of course, had to review everything.

Perhaps most interesting of all, the Bennetts paid for all these franchising costs without taking on partners or investors. "We've used the majority of the profits from the last three years to do it," Arianne Bennett says.

The Bennetts are going to start franchising with a focus on the East Coast, even though they have had interest from operators on both the West Coast and in the Midwest. "They don't have to be right here in D.C.," Arianne Bennett says, but for now, the company would like future franchisees to be within a short plane flight so the owners can visit quickly, if need be.

The FranPoint crew is currently vetting possible future franchisees, including some in D.C. and Virginia, to make sure they're the right fit and have the right experience. But there's also a hidden benefit for the Bennetts now that their franchise company is up and running: They can start working on opening another Amsterdam Falafelshop of their own.

(202) 232-1322

If Old City Café’ falafel bar seems suspiciously similar in style and spirit to another, Adams Morgan-based falafel joint, there’s a reason. Before striking out to start his own business, Old City founder Walid Abuelhawa was a chef at neighboring Amsterdam Falafelshop. As a result, it’s difficult to tell the two establishments apart based on cuisine alone. Both function on the same do-it-yourself toppings-bar concept and, for the most part, the same toppings are represented—from the fried cauliflower to the Turkish salad. So picking a favorite is more a question of politics. Do you want falafel as product of imperialism: with cramped quarters and headshop palm cards as décor? Or do you prefer to consume your falafel in an environment that more closely represents the food’s Middle Eastern cultural origin: a dark and expansive restaurant with nary a pack of spent zig zags in sight. If you’re feeling the latter, choose Old City Café. —Aaron Leitko

Not long ago, Mohamed Elrafal decided to trade his antiques business for a spotless new street cart, which to this untrained eye looks as if it's painted deep Egyptian blue. The color would be only appropriate. Elrafal is a native of Egypt, and his cart, Ali Baba's Falafel, located on the corner of Willow Lane and Wisconsin Avenue in Bethesda, serves up the Egyptian version of this street food.

For those who have only sampled the Palestinian/Israeli version of falafel — you know, the kind basically  peddled at places as divergent as Amsterdam Falafelshop in Adams Morgan and Max's Kosher Cafe in Wheaton — you're in for a surprise. Or three.

First off, the fried balls, once you bite into them, reveal a vivid emerald interior, the result of the snack's main ingredient—fava beans, not the standard chickpeas found in the Palestinian/Israeli iteration. (Ali Baba's falafel is split about 90-10, favoring the fava bean over the chickpea.) The favas give the fried balls a softer, moister texture, which may disappoint those who have come to anticipate (and love) that first-bite crunch of the chickpea version.

Egyptian falafel also doesn't mess with a condiments bar, which is not to say that your sandwich won't include a few flavors from the garden. My small wrap from Ali Baba's came stuffed with shredded pieces of lettuce (Romaine?) and pickled veggies, as well as a generous squirt or two of tahini sauce. It was all wrapped in a grilled, whole-wheat pita, which regrettably began to assume cardboardlike qualities the longer it was away from the grill.

Nordin Grabsi, Elrafal's partner in Ali Baba's, is also the cook. He'll provide you with the all-important accompaniment to your falafel — a small, foil-wrapped collection of pickled carrot coins, cauliflower florets, red pepper strips, and other veggies. You chase each fresh, garlicky bite of falafel with a bite of pickled vegetable; the veggies provide that finishing blast of acid, as important to Egyptian falafel as a squirt of lime to pho or Mexican-style tacos.

All together, it makes for one great street-food experience, even with the crummy, wooden commercial pita wrapper, which Grabsi is hoping to switch out soon. Just give him time; Ali Baba's has been open only a week or so.

If the fava/Egyptian vs. chickpea/Israeli-Palestinian divide seems strange to you, allow me to provide a little historical perspective, courtesy of Yael Raviv's definitive essay from Gastronomica a few years ago:

Falafel's origins have been traced to the Christian Copts of Egypt, who were not allowed to eat meat during certain holidays, especially Lent. Ta'amia [as favas are known in Egypt] thus served as a meat substitute. When the dish later spread to other regions of the Middle East, the fava beans were sometimes replaced with chickpeas; the Jewish population in Palestine — the early halutzim, or pioneers — adopted the local Arab version made with chickpeas. By the 1920s falafel had become a popular snack with the younger generation, and by the 1950s it was common throughout Israeli society. Ultimately, falafel became one of the icons of Israeli culture.

Okay, sorry for the lame headline. It's late on a Friday. But I wanted to leave you with something to chew on: the new pita bread at Amsterdam Falafelshop in Adams Morgan. During the course of our conversation about Maoz Vegetarian entering the D.C. market, Arianne Bennett mentioned that the Falafelshop recently started using pitas specially made for the place by an "Israeli guy from the upper mid-Atlantic." She wouldn't name names but said the shop gets fresh delivers from the dude twice a week.

I stopped by the Falafeshop today to sample the new bread, and I have to say it's a significant improvement over the dry, thin pita that I remember previously. This one has more body: Its chewy crust and soft, airy crumb provide a dandy contrast to the dense falafel balls. My only complaint is its size: It seems smaller than the old pita, which made it hard to stuff the amount and variety of toppings I wanted into my sandwich. I literally had to pry open the sides to try to squeeze in more salads and sauces.

I'd really don't want to believe this is intentional, that the new pita is a clever way to save on toppings in a down economy. I really don't. Perhaps my memory is off. What do y'all remember? Were the old pitas larger? Could they accommodate more toppings? Sound off!

Which got me to wondering: How will this Dutch import affect the expansion plans of Amsterdam Falafelshop? Last time I talked to owners Scott and Arianne Bennett, way back in April 2007, they had pulled the plug on their second Falafelshop on Capitol Hill but were still moving ahead on a franchise location in Herndon. But nearly two years later, there's still only one Falafelshop, the original in Adams Morgan. What gives?

Well, it turns out the expansion delays have nothing to Maoz, says Arianne Bennett. The couple just realized a while back that they needed more expertise if they planned to franchise the Falafelshop. So the Bennetts turned to FranPoint Partners, an Annapolis-based franchise development company. FranPoint is helping the couple develop a franchising plan "the proper way, so that our franchisees would be happy with what they got," Arianne Bennett says. And so that they'd be happy with the profits, too, she adds, unlike too many franchisees who slave away for the corporate mothership and have little to show for it.

The Bennetts, in fact, seem to welcome Maoz's entrance into the market.

"They were one of the [companies] we looked at in how falafel could be better in the United States," Arianne Bennett says, noting that Amsterdam Falafelshop has evolved into something different from its European inspiration. "We're the gourmet one, and they're the Wal-Mart one...but not in a bad way."

Besides, the Bennetts believe the market can support more than one falafel chain. Look at the burger market, Arianne Bennett suggests. Elevation Burger hasn't stopped its expansion plans just because of all the new burger joints that have popped up in recent years.

"We're not out to compete directly with Maoz. We realize there is plenty of room in the market" for both groups, Bennett says. "If you wanted to put a Maoz next door to us, I think we'd do just fine."