38 Brushfield Street
London E1 6EU
Date of Last Visit: Sunday, August 16, 2009
The Victim: Me
The Damage: A fiver
The Background: It was a Sunday and I was hungry and fancied a walk.
The Entrance: Pilpel is small. It's a take-away really. On the edge of Spitalfields. On a Sunday at 1 p.m.-ish, it's empty. I am happy about this at first. At first. Because you see THE LOUD-ASS MUSIC HAD ME WISHING THERE WERE MORE PEOPLE IN PILPEL TO DROWN OUT THE NOISE.
It was really bad.
Yeah, not so sensitive to the needs of their listening audience. Restaurant staff should never be allowed to control the radio.
But I placed my order anyhow. Because I was hungry.
I got some falafel in a pitta (as they spell it). Along with some aubergine and some hummus. Oh, and a fresh lemonade.
It's very hard to take a picture of a falafel pitta. But there's mine. It doesn't do it justice. You can't even see the falafel.
But I liked that they offered me a choice of whole wheat or white pitta. And I liked that I could choose my salads. (It's sorta like Subway, that way.) And I liked how the falafel was crunchy. A satisfying crunch.
But I didn't like how I couldn't really taste the hummus. Or the aubergine.
And when I was done, I was still very hungry. But then again, I couldn't really concentrate on my food because of THE MUSIC. So maybe my stomach just needed 20 minutes or so to catch up to my brain.
The Verdict: These here were cheap eats. I'd go again. But with EARPLUGS.