Astoria's King Of Falafel Prepares To Surrender His Crown

ASTORIA, QUEENS — After 20 years of slicing pitas, pickling vegetables, and deep-frying his acclaimed balls of falafel, Freddy Zeideia is "just tired."

"I want to get on with the rest of my life," Zeideia, 57, said Wednesday from behind the counter of his Astoria shop, King of Falafel & Shawarma, where he spoke while preparing customers' orders.

"I’ve been working like a dog," he said. "Sometimes you just say, enough."

About an hour earlier, Zeideia had announced on Instagram that he was putting the entire King of Falafel empire up for sale: the storefront shop, three food trucks, and a brand that includes its signature recipes and packaged bags of falafel mix.

Whoever buys it will need to keep the King of Falafel name, said Zeideia, who is also working to add a contract clause requiring the next owner to keep handing out free falafel samples to waiting customers — a tradition he established years ago.

The business is as strong as ever, Zeideia explained. But his workaholic nature has made it nearly impossible for him to take a break since he first opened the food truck in April 2002 on the corner of Broadway and 30th Street.

"I remember the days when I used to be up 18, 20 hours," he said.

That's the same reason why the business could not stay in his family, Zeideia said — he would be unable to keep away.

"I go on vacation sometimes, I usually tell the guys I'm going to be gone for a week, 10 days," he said. "And yet within less than a week, I’m back again. I know myself: a control freak."

A native of Palestine, Zeideia has won a devoted following among Astorians, thanks both to his expert cooking and his cheerful banter with customers. Along the way, he has been crowned the best street vendor in all of New York, expanded his business into Midtown Manhattan, and stayed true to his Palestinian heritage — even in the face of political pushback.

Zeideia established his truck just seven months after the 9/11 attacks, and remembers keeping his cool as passersby hurled racist comments.

"It was tough, everybody’s calling you a terrorist, passing me by the corner," he recalled. "But I kept a good attitude: 'To hell with it, I’m not going to let them get to me.'"

Now, Zeideia is negotiating with two potential buyers, working to ensure a smooth transition for his employees — and counting his blessings, feeling grateful that both he and his business managed to survive the pandemic.

"I want to see if I can enjoy as much as God has given me to live," he said.

With the "hard decision" to sell behind him, Zeideia has fantasies of going camping or taking a safari. But he pauses when he thinks about his customers, gesturing inside the shop to a wall of photos showing dozens of his longtime patrons over the years.

"When I think about all these people," he said, "it kills me. "