hoomoos asli

this israeli joint is on kenmare and lafayette(ish). i ate lunch with poo. poo is a friend of mine. both kinds.

despite the rings and long hair he ain't gay. he does things like ask you to kiss his cheek then turns at the last minute to catch your lips. or puts his hand under your butt when you sit down.

i love him.



we met at this place mostly out of laziness and and uninspiring group of restaurants left to blog about in soho.

i ordered the salad combo. you can choose three salads from a list of around 8. i got humus, israeli salad, and spicy moroccan tomato salad.

gross


gross


good.


the humus tasted like mud. zero zest whatsoever. the israeli salad tasted like bland cucumber. i tried adding salt but it didn't help. the spicy tomato one was good, but not good enough to make up for the other two. it was supposed to come with 3 pitas (as written on the menu) but i only got one.

the iced tea was excellent. i especially like the tumbler it came in with big ice cubes. like something in my childhood suburban kitchen.



poo poo had a chicken sandwich (schwarma) in a pita. with french fries stuffed in. the fries were good. thick homemade ones. not like the frozen ones all over town.

they take amex, but who cares. i won't go back. if you want good israeli, go to 12 chairs on sullivan. if you want good falafel, go to rainbow falafel on 18th and broadway or chickpea on 3rd ave and st. marks.

as we got up to leave, poo put on his sunglasses. woah, woah, woah, woah. oh. my. god. there are only a few men besides my father that can pull off blue blockers. and poo is for sure one of them.



i like to kiss poo.