
This dispatch comes straight from the First Class cabin of an Air Canada jet on route from Tel Aviv, Israel to Toronto, Canada. We mention our class of service only because anyone who has taken this flight will know just how much this upgrade means. Somewhere in the back of the plane, some poor fool is sandwiched between a crying child in the middle seat and men in black suits praying audibly in the aisle.
On this particular flight, a half dozen members of the ultra-orthodox Lubavitch sect of Judaism are currently deep in prayer, blocking access to the bathroom at the back of the plane. We rejected the idea of heading back there to tell them that they’re praying in the wrong direction. There’s no chance they’ll believe us even though we’re right. The problem is that the men are operating under the misconception that because we are flying away from Israel, Jerusalem is behind us. Religious Yeshivas might do well to cut a few hours of Talmud in favor of explaining the geometry behind great circles. For those who have forgotten, great circles explain why it is, when circumnavigating a ball, the shortest path between two points often requires you to head due north. At this point in the flight, these men should now be facing the left side of the hull. As things stand, they are praying to the suburbs south of Moscow.
On this particular flight, a half dozen members of the ultra-orthodox Lubavitch sect of Judaism are currently deep in prayer, blocking access to the bathroom at the back of the plane. We rejected the idea of heading back there to tell them that they’re praying in the wrong direction. There’s no chance they’ll believe us even though we’re right. The problem is that the men are operating under the misconception that because we are flying away from Israel, Jerusalem is behind us. Religious Yeshivas might do well to cut a few hours of Talmud in favor of explaining the geometry behind great circles. For those who have forgotten, great circles explain why it is, when circumnavigating a ball, the shortest path between two points often requires you to head due north. At this point in the flight, these men should now be facing the left side of the hull. As things stand, they are praying to the suburbs south of Moscow.
Staying on Drink Your Carbs, like everything else in Israel, is complicated. Breakfast was easy. Whereas a standard American hotel buffet offers an entire lineup of greasy potatoes and breakfast meats, an Israeli breakfast buffet includes a world-class salad bar with dozens of choices including diced cubes of tomato and cucumber, shredded herbs tossed in lemon juice and usually some form of pickled cabbage and beets swimming in mayonnaise tinted the color of Pepto-Bismol. The lettuce was fresh. The vegetables were crisp. There were the ubiquitous tables of breakfast pastries and an omelet station for the tourists, but the locals clearly favored fresh salads, pickled fish and goat cheese. The best way to understand the typical Israeli breakfast buffet is to imagine a high-speed crash between a raw food restaurant and a Kosher Assisted Living Facility.
In Drink Your Carbs terms, lunch and dinner were as difficult as breakfast was easy. Finding an Israeli lunch that does not come wrapped in a pita is like digging a hole in that country without finding something of archeological significance. It happens, but it’s rare. The pita conundrum took a particularly heavy tool on Andrea who, as we have mentioned, is allergic to wheat.
Her typical lunch involved meat and hummus eaten either with a spoon or, in flagrant violation of the Food List, scooped up on French fries. Steven took a different approach: he violated every dietary principal he held sacred and scarfed down pita, lafa (really big pita) and tortilla-like Druze bread with a reckless abandon the Holy Land hasn’t seen since the Romans were expelled.
In Drink Your Carbs terms, lunch and dinner were as difficult as breakfast was easy. Finding an Israeli lunch that does not come wrapped in a pita is like digging a hole in that country without finding something of archeological significance. It happens, but it’s rare. The pita conundrum took a particularly heavy tool on Andrea who, as we have mentioned, is allergic to wheat.
Her typical lunch involved meat and hummus eaten either with a spoon or, in flagrant violation of the Food List, scooped up on French fries. Steven took a different approach: he violated every dietary principal he held sacred and scarfed down pita, lafa (really big pita) and tortilla-like Druze bread with a reckless abandon the Holy Land hasn’t seen since the Romans were expelled.
A brief note on the topic of hummus: We in America have long viewed hummus as a topping or side dish. Hummus would never be the focal point of a meal. It usually serves as an alternative to chips and salsa. It turns out that our marginalization of hummus has nothing to do with culinary tradition. It turns out that our hummus just sucks. We never knew this because, as Americans, we can only compare our hummus to itself. There are hummus joints in Israel that are - and we do not say this lightly - life changing.
Hummus Kitchen on Nahalat Binyamin Street in Tel Aviv serves bowls of hummus topped with a choice of mushrooms, lamb, eggplant, falafel or tahini. It didn’t matter that Andrea was forced to eat it with a spoon while Steven was able to dip into it with pita so fresh it was still baking in the basket on the table. It was among the best foods either of us has ever tasted. It was nothing like hummus back home. The richness and subtlety is indescribable. No amount of wishing will make it otherwise: American hummus is the equivalent of 7-Eleven sushi.
Dinners in Israel varied wildly and varied largely based on the ancient laws of kashrut. Most of the restaurants in Israel are strictly kosher. This means they cleave to an exhaustive set of rules for food preparation, the most obvious and impactful of which is milk and meat cannot be served in the same meal. As a result, kosher restaurants serve either dairy or meat. A few kosher restaurants serve both, but in order to do so they maintain separate kitchens and use a divider to split the dining room. Unless you are prepared to talk to the other people in your party exclusively through text messaging, you still have to choose between meat and milk.
Oddly, fish is considered neither meat nor milk and as a result can be served in any kosher restaurant. Fish, under the laws of kashrut, are classified as parve, the same category as broccoli and carrots. And, as if the rules did not seem arbitrary enough, chicken and other poultry are meat but eggs are parve like fish. The laws of kashrut definitely make more sense to people who grew up with them. To those of us who did not grow up in kosher households, they seem completely random.
It is also worth mentioning that the restrictions of kashrut have been embraced by Israeli chefs as more of a challenge than a handicap. These chefs have mastered poultry product smoked and dyed to imitate both the look and taste of pork. They have also taken non-dairy desserts to a height that we would have thought impossible. We have no idea how they do it, but we suppose that this is to be expected after 5,000 years of practice.
The separation of milk and meat posed an interesting challenge. Dairy restaurants tend to add dairy to everything they serve. Since Steven is allergic to all forms of milk, eating in these restaurants left him with few options beyond the salad course. More than once, Steven was forced to grab a falafel on the way back to the hotel after dinner.
Andrea had similar difficulties with meat restaurants. Israeli cuisine tends to be wheat heavy. Meat restaurants are even more so. On most meat menus, Andrea had one choice. Everything else was either breaded or lightly floured before cooking. It didn’t help that neither of us is a huge fan of kosher steak. The koshering process involves salting the meat to draw out all of the blood. The process is perfect for ground meat, sausage and anything else that will be spiced and chopped into bits. With steaks, however, bloodletting yields a consistency akin to chewing gum. Apparently God prefers beef to be the texture of calamari - which is theologically fascinating considering that calamari is not kosher.
In meat restaurants, Andrea stuck largely to fish when it was not breaded and, at times, cobbled together a dinner from a couple of appetizers. Steven, as we said, went crazy. There is nothing in a meat restaurant Steven cannot eat. There are no dairy products in the kitchen. If someone were to so much as bring in a cup of coffee with cream, the entire kitchen would have to be scrubbed clean and inspected by a rabbi. Our guess is that if you found a rat in a kosher kitchen, the remediation process would not be as severe. So, for Steven, it was the first time in years where he could literally order anything and everything on the menu. While Andrea looked on, Steven got to try 1,000 forms of beef and lamb wrapped in flaky filo dough.
Steven definitely played fast and loose with the Food List, but Andrea was also unable to completely adhere. The problem was too many desserts. Let us be clear that we never once ordered dessert. We prefer our dessert to come in the form of an additional glass of wine. However, it turns out that Israelis, despite what you might have heard, are some of the nicest people on earth. It was almost impossible to escape from a dinner without being presented with a custom-made, wheat-free dairy-free sweet. We made a point of sharing with the rest of the people at our table, but politeness demanded that we consume far more sugar than we would have under normal circumstances.
Oddly, fish is considered neither meat nor milk and as a result can be served in any kosher restaurant. Fish, under the laws of kashrut, are classified as parve, the same category as broccoli and carrots. And, as if the rules did not seem arbitrary enough, chicken and other poultry are meat but eggs are parve like fish. The laws of kashrut definitely make more sense to people who grew up with them. To those of us who did not grow up in kosher households, they seem completely random.
It is also worth mentioning that the restrictions of kashrut have been embraced by Israeli chefs as more of a challenge than a handicap. These chefs have mastered poultry product smoked and dyed to imitate both the look and taste of pork. They have also taken non-dairy desserts to a height that we would have thought impossible. We have no idea how they do it, but we suppose that this is to be expected after 5,000 years of practice.
The separation of milk and meat posed an interesting challenge. Dairy restaurants tend to add dairy to everything they serve. Since Steven is allergic to all forms of milk, eating in these restaurants left him with few options beyond the salad course. More than once, Steven was forced to grab a falafel on the way back to the hotel after dinner.
Andrea had similar difficulties with meat restaurants. Israeli cuisine tends to be wheat heavy. Meat restaurants are even more so. On most meat menus, Andrea had one choice. Everything else was either breaded or lightly floured before cooking. It didn’t help that neither of us is a huge fan of kosher steak. The koshering process involves salting the meat to draw out all of the blood. The process is perfect for ground meat, sausage and anything else that will be spiced and chopped into bits. With steaks, however, bloodletting yields a consistency akin to chewing gum. Apparently God prefers beef to be the texture of calamari - which is theologically fascinating considering that calamari is not kosher.
In meat restaurants, Andrea stuck largely to fish when it was not breaded and, at times, cobbled together a dinner from a couple of appetizers. Steven, as we said, went crazy. There is nothing in a meat restaurant Steven cannot eat. There are no dairy products in the kitchen. If someone were to so much as bring in a cup of coffee with cream, the entire kitchen would have to be scrubbed clean and inspected by a rabbi. Our guess is that if you found a rat in a kosher kitchen, the remediation process would not be as severe. So, for Steven, it was the first time in years where he could literally order anything and everything on the menu. While Andrea looked on, Steven got to try 1,000 forms of beef and lamb wrapped in flaky filo dough.
Steven definitely played fast and loose with the Food List, but Andrea was also unable to completely adhere. The problem was too many desserts. Let us be clear that we never once ordered dessert. We prefer our dessert to come in the form of an additional glass of wine. However, it turns out that Israelis, despite what you might have heard, are some of the nicest people on earth. It was almost impossible to escape from a dinner without being presented with a custom-made, wheat-free dairy-free sweet. We made a point of sharing with the rest of the people at our table, but politeness demanded that we consume far more sugar than we would have under normal circumstances.
Our Bedouin hosts assured us that this was the traditional dessert of their desert tribe, but the rainbow sprinkles made us more than a little skeptical.
There is a third choice in Israeli cuisine beyond milk and meat: treyf. Treyf is the Yiddish term for anything non-kosher. A treyf restaurant will serve cheeseburgers, shellfish and even pork. In Jerusalem, treyf is hard to find. In Tel Aviv and other larger cities, treyf may actually dominate. And there’s no question that Israel does treyf as well as any country in the world. By far our best meal was at Herbert Samuel, a “high treyf” bistro in Tel Aviv. This restaurant would be just as crowded if it were located in San Francisco.
Herbert Samuel felt naughty after two weeks in Israel. Although we don’t eat kosher at home, after two weeks of eating according to the rules of kashrut the oyster appetizer took on an air of forbidden pleasure. The oysters were served with a raw quail egg and a wasabi avocado puree. It’s a preparation we hope that restaurants in our neighborhood will steal. They were spectacular. And eating them in Israel made them even better. The dish combined a world-class preparation with the mindless adrenalin of teenage rebellion.
Herbert Samuel felt naughty after two weeks in Israel. Although we don’t eat kosher at home, after two weeks of eating according to the rules of kashrut the oyster appetizer took on an air of forbidden pleasure. The oysters were served with a raw quail egg and a wasabi avocado puree. It’s a preparation we hope that restaurants in our neighborhood will steal. They were spectacular. And eating them in Israel made them even better. The dish combined a world-class preparation with the mindless adrenalin of teenage rebellion.
The downside of a treyf restaurant became apparent when we were accidentally served a steak swimming in butter. Andrea ate the steak and says it was one of the best she has ever eaten. Steven was forced to watch from the sidelines. The kitchen did, however, bring him an incredible sashimi plate as both dinner and an apology. Even with the butter snafu, the meal was as good as any we have had anywhere in the world.
Overall, we found incredible respect for our dietary restrictions. It wasn’t always easy, but it turns out that people who can handle the rules of kashrut can easily manage our peccadillos. Dairy restaurants were harder for Steven and meat restaurants were harder for Andrea, but in all cases Israelis were incredibly helpful in steering us towards food that met our allergy restrictions. Staying on Drink Your Carbs, however, was another matter altogether. Israel is just not the place to avoid simple carbs; they are too good and too deeply embedded into Israeli cuisine. As Drink Your Carbs continues to spread, we hope more options will be added which follow the rigors of our Food List. Until then, we recommend that anyone headed to this part of the Middle East spend some time in Austerity Mode in advance of the trip. Earn your pita before you leave so your hummus can be enjoyed guilt free.
It should come as no surprise that between kosher dairy, kosher meat and outright treyf, treyf restaurants were our favorite. Some day we will venture to the back of the plane to ask the gentlemen currently praying to Iceland, “If God did not want us to eat pork and shellfish, why did he make them so delicious?”
Overall, we found incredible respect for our dietary restrictions. It wasn’t always easy, but it turns out that people who can handle the rules of kashrut can easily manage our peccadillos. Dairy restaurants were harder for Steven and meat restaurants were harder for Andrea, but in all cases Israelis were incredibly helpful in steering us towards food that met our allergy restrictions. Staying on Drink Your Carbs, however, was another matter altogether. Israel is just not the place to avoid simple carbs; they are too good and too deeply embedded into Israeli cuisine. As Drink Your Carbs continues to spread, we hope more options will be added which follow the rigors of our Food List. Until then, we recommend that anyone headed to this part of the Middle East spend some time in Austerity Mode in advance of the trip. Earn your pita before you leave so your hummus can be enjoyed guilt free.
It should come as no surprise that between kosher dairy, kosher meat and outright treyf, treyf restaurants were our favorite. Some day we will venture to the back of the plane to ask the gentlemen currently praying to Iceland, “If God did not want us to eat pork and shellfish, why did he make them so delicious?”