BEIRUT, Lebanon — “Falafel Sahyoun” reads the awning of one storefront.

“Falafel Sahyoun” reads the awning of the other.

They’re right next to each other. Only a wall separates the two.

And little sets them apart.

Both have bright tube lights, mirrors on the walls, falafel balls bubbling in oil. And on both counters sit stacks of bread, plus shiny steel bowls of radish, parsley and a sauce of pounded sesame, known as tarator.

The menus are even identical.

Regular sandwich.

Sandwich extra.

Falafel dozen.

Small tarator.

Large tarator.

Soft drinks.

Yogurt.

But the rivalry runs deep. It is a rivalry as old as any in this part of the world: Brother against brother, falafel against falafel.