"Howz dee faylafell?," Ben Regev yells from behind a glass and granite countertop. Most people can only awkwardly nod as they chew on soft pitas filled with well-seasoned green falafel topped with tahini and a rainbow of fresh and pickled vegetables. As a kid growing up in Israel, Regev used to skip school to work odd jobs to buy falafel. As an adult, they've become his life. He says even Muslims come into his small shop for falafel saying "kif imeh," which in English, he says, means "like home." Nothing bridges cultural gaps like a perfect falafel.