Oct 112014

image herb yeast bread

It’s Sukkot, and the weather has kindly cooled down. We’ve even had some early rain, the signal for me to go into a fine frenzy of baking. Sourdough bread.  Applesauce Oatmeal Muffins. And the easy yeasted herb bead I’m about to show you.

I speculate that the cool-weather hunger for carbs is a throwback to old times, when my ancestors, back in the frozen Ukraine, prepared to survive the winter. I imagine my great-great grandfather shaking snow off his big boots, humming in a bass voice and stacking the day’s supply of logs and kindling in a corner. His plump wife stands in the kitchen, hands on hips, surveying her rye and wheat flours in their big bags. A couple of braided onion ropes hang from the ceiling; jars of shmaltz and preserved fruit glimmer on the shelves. Her treasured sourdough froths comfortably in its jar. In the main room, the big ceramic stove is lit, and the comforting fragrance of baking bread wafts around the wooden house.

Continue reading »

Sep 222014

image fish tomato cilantro

“May it be God’s will that we be like the head, and not like the tail!” And so saying, we unveil the cooked head of a fish at the holiday table. It’s one of the Rosh HaShanah simanim, traditional foods whose names play on words representing new year blessings. (For more detail on simanim, and some recipes, read this post.) The fish head has to be veiled with a napkin because it makes The Little One turn green. So we snatch the napkin off, ask for the blessing quickly, and then take the fish head away. Anything for the teenager.

Luckily, she doesn’t have a problem eating fish.

I like to serve this festive recipe on Rosh HaShanah. The fish is first fried, then gently baked in a sauce rich with tomatoes, cilantro and pine nuts. The sauce reduces until thick, and it’s so good, so herby and pungent, you want to lick the plate. The recipe is adapted from Claudia Roden’s Book Of Middle Eastern Food. You just can’t go wrong with Ms. Roden for inspiration.

Continue reading »

Sep 152014

image kosher roast beef

When I cook beef, I want it very tender indeed, and very savory.

I like it slow-cooked, so a knife cuts through richly and smoothly. Thinking of something festive for Rosh HaShanah, something different from the usual chicken and turkey, my mother’s pot roasts came to mind. Abita cooked pot roast in traditional American style:  the beef, in a little broth, with onions, carrots, and a couple of bay leaves. But I’ve lived in Israel so long, I can’t keep Mediterranean herbs out of my pots, and beef always seems to call for wine.

The beef I bought is called fileh medumeh in Hebrew. My son, Eliezer, assures me that the cut was London tip.

Continue reading »

Aug 202014

spiced fig jam with wine

Late August, and little by little, the longest days of this very strange summer are waning.

It’s surreal, but war on Israel’s ground has become almost ordinary. Hostilities started, stopped, and started again, like a bucking horse. We, the small folks who work and take buses and come home to cook dinner, grit our teeth and carry on, hoping to dodge the flying hooves.

But as long as it’s left undisturbed, nature takes its way throughout the hot days. Pomegranates are turning red in private gardens, a sign that Rosh HaShana is approaching.


And figs are sprouting wherever they dare, which is anyplace. I love the fig tree; its hand-shaped leaves with their odor of vanilla and cinnamon, its luscious fruit with a red heart; even its chutzpah as it takes root in any available cranny.

image urban wild fig

How I have loved standing under wild fig trees in Tsfat’s outskirts, harvesting the small, sweet fruit. Figs grow and thrive where I live now in Central Israel too, but somehow, they don’t seem as romantic as those wild figs from the Galilee. Never mind. There’s the shuk

shuk petach tikvah

where, let it be said, anyone is free to shop without fear…

image arab shoppers israel

and which offers figs of splendor.

image fresh israeli figs

The absolutely most delicious way to eat fresh figs is simply to hold one plump, moist fig in your hand and bite into it. But the yearning to preserve a little of that flavor overcame me. Here’s an unusual fig jam recipe that includes red wine, herbs, and a little balsamic vinegar. The mildly acidic flavors brighten up what is often a rather bland preserve, and the spices give it a subtle herbal undertone. The jam improves over time, tasting even more delicious a couple of days after it’s sat in the fridge.

 Spiced Fig and Wine Jam

Inspired by Leda Meredith’s preservation page on About.com


1.360 kg. (3 lb.) fresh figs
1 1/4 cups white sugar
1 cup dark, runny honey
1/2 cup dry red wine
A good splash of balsamic vinegar
1 2-inch sprig of fresh rosemary (Don’t use dried rosemary, you’ll never get those little needles out. Substitute 1/4 teaspoon fresh or dried thyme if you don’t have rosemary.)
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 medium bay leaf


Rinse the figs and slice the stems off. Cut into halves if figs are small, into quarters if large. Put them into a large saucepan or a bowl.

Mix the remaining ingredients and pour over the figs. Stir gently and cover. Leave the figs alone at room temperature for 2 hours, stirring twice during that time. Remove the rosemary sprig.

Turn the heat to high and boil the considerably softened and juicy fig mixture. Stir often, keeping a sharp eye out for when the jam starts to thicken. Don’t reduce the heat, just keep stirring to prevent scorching. Test the jam on a cold plate; if a drop holds its shape, it’s ready. The whole thing should take no more than 20 minutes and maybe only 15.

Remove the bay leaf and if you like, purée the jam before storing. I use a stick blender and purée it right there in its pan, while its still somewhat hot (with great care to keep away from splashes).

According to Leda, you don’t have to sterilize the jars for this recipe. I don’t have much pantry space, so I keep the few preserves I make in the fridge. It keeps for three months. Follow standard boiling water-bath procedure if you wish to store the jam at room temperature for any length of time.

I serve teaspoons of this jam with local white cheeses. A nice mature Brie also pairs deliciously with it. And a glass of chilled Chardonnay with them never did anyone any harm.

image spiced fig jam

Jun 252014

falafel recipe

Long ago, before I came to live in Israel, I dated a guy who turned out not to be the right one. We took a walk one night, sauntering along in the friendly dark and enjoying the fresh breeze that brought a scent of jasmine and faintly, tobacco – a neighbor’s cigar. Someone nearby was doodling around on the guitar, eventually breaking into a soft Spanish ballad. It was all so romantic. My boyfriend gazed up at the sky and remarked, “What a lovely moon.”

Yes, the moon was like a silver coin, only a coin broken in half. “You like half moons?” I said.

“It’s just that it looks like a falafel in the sky…a half falafel like the ones you get in Israel, you know…”

Continue reading »

Jun 222014

Israeli food Menza Ramat Gan

A customer came out of the restaurant as my son, Eliezer and I, stood at the door, wondering if we should go in.

“It’s the best food in the Bourse,” the man said, holding the door open and waving us in. “Don’t go anywhere else.”

I wasn’t vaguely tempted to try anywhere else.

Workers at the Bourse, also known as the Diamond District,  can choose between a few dozen cheap eateries serving tasteless versions of falafel, shwarma, pizza and burgers. Some more pretentious places set tables out on the sidewalk and you can order Asian-style or Italian-style or Something-style food. Of course you can always fill yourself up on greasy bourekas too. Beware the cheap burgers anyhow – Eliezer got food poisoning from one such place. (Sigh. If he’d just waited till he got home, where there was mushroom-broccoli soup and biscuits with basil and cheese in them…)

There are another two or three places that serve real food in the area, but for Israeli down-home cooking with meat, Menza is the place to go.

Meet Ro’i Shadur, owner and manager.

roy shadur menza restaurant

“I don’t consider myself a chef,” he told me. “I manage the place.” And very well managed it is, too.  “I like to serve good, fresh food, and I’m open to new recipes.” He jumped up to fetch a food magazine and opened it at a photograph of a spinach and chickpea dish. “One of my workers showed me this, and I’m going to try it out.”

Later he revealed that he’s a graduate of the Cordon Bleu in Sydney, Australia.

You can see how clean the place is. I like the homey feeling, the open pantry that’s not ashamed to display kitchen staples, the little coffee corner and the soda fountain where you can refill your glass as often as you like for five shekels.

roy shadur owner menza restaurant

This is Ro’i’s famous chicken kadrah – a stew that varies from day to day. The chicken might cook slowly for hours with root vegetables, or  black beer sauce, or curry, or simmer with dried fruit from 7:00 a.m. until noon. Today, it was chicken with apricots. Ro’i dipped a spoon in the stock to give me a taste. Just that little spoonful told me how good it was.

stew chicken with apricot

It’s hard, and dangerous too, to shlep that immense pot off its flame and onto the hotplate for serving.

moving the stew


Safely in place, right next to the meatballs. That’s the kind of food you can expect at Menza: the kind of food your mother and grandmother make (if you’re Israeli, from  parents who have accepted the big North African influence in Israeli cooking). Eliezer also recommends the chili con carne, served over spaghetti, and the beef with mushrooms. There are always at least two cooked vegetables too, like cabbage cooked with tomatoes, and salmon in green curry. Grilled chicken breasts are treated to a cover of sauce. It’s not an extensive menu, but there are new or different items every day and everything is fresh, tasty, and clean.

setting the stew down

There must alwyas be at least one salad on offer. This lovely mixed one incorporates all those fresh vegetables that Israelis love so well.


At exactly noon, the office workers start lining up. You point to the foods you want on your plate and pay up front, cafeteria style. Six kitchen workers stand and serve behind the counter, so that the line moves fast.

lining up for lunch Menza

Some customers ask for packaged food to take away. Ro’i says that working mothers show up at around 2:o0 and buy food to take home.

serving lunch at Menza

“After I came back from Australia, I worked in the diamond industry for a while,” Ro’i said. “I’d go out and look for lunch, but there was nowhere to eat. I can’t stand food that’s been fried in yesterday’s fat, food that depends on soup powder for flavor. Onions, parsley, tomatoes, celery – they’re so cheap and abundant, why don’t people cook with them instead of instant soup powder that makes your throat burn?

“So I decided to establish a place where people could go for popular fresh food, at an affordable price.”

salad at Menza

I could have chosen brown rice as a foil to the apricot chicken, but thought that white would photograph better.

apricot chicken at Menza

The potato wedges are first seasoned, doused with a little of the fat from the chicken, and baked. Then they grill for a few minutes on the same grill that cooks the chicken breasts. Divine.

grilled potato wedges

This sign amused me. It says: “Please don’t save a seat for yourself before getting your food. It disorganizes traffic.” Then I realized it’s just one more sign of good management. People eat communally at Menza, sharing tables with whoever else needs a seat. Reserving a seat before you have your tray results in explanations, apologies, moving away to find somewhere else – traffic snarls. People used to eating there understand the reason for the sign and accept it.

don't hog the tables

The meatballs are rich in onions, tomato sauce and parsley, with a minimum of breadcrumbs to keep them light.

Menza meatball

Slices off a standard white loaf. This is the bread for which Israelis have rioted in the past; the bread that school children’s sandwiches are made of and that everyone has grown up with. In the background, grilled chicken breast in curry sauce and those delicious potatoes.

israeli sliced white bread

You just can’t get more Israeli than this huge pot full of meatballs in simmering tomato sauce.

pot of meatballs


Open Sun-Friday

R. Tubal 28

Ramat Gan



May 302014


tian zucchini potatoes recipe

Many readers have complained that I’ve been neglecting this blog. I can’t defend myself, because it’s true.

I’ve been thinking, and I hope, growing in different directions.  I’ve been writing for other publications. These writings, not all of them food-related, leave my mind sort of empty after hours of research, writing and revising. Not much brain power is left for my personal reflections. Cooking and even eating, have been hasty, seat-of-my-pants operations for the past long while.

But food and the urge to cook are still on my mind. They always will be. So I’m returning, maybe a little changed, a little freer. And Reader, I’m always aware that you’re there, and that some are wishing I were back here already. This summer it’ll be nine years since I opened a blog, named it Israeli Kitchen, and started to post. I write this with a feeling of returning home, somehow, like a child who left her parents’ home to travel and returns different, but still loving.

So here’s a French variation of Italian frittata and Persian eggah, the tian. You can also call it a gratin.  The recipe is from one of my favorite cookbook authors, Elizabeth David, and I found it in her “Is There A Nutmeg In The House?” It’s a simple combination of eggs and vegetables, often flavored with cheese or garlic, then baked. You can substitute chard or spinach for the zukes, use the same measure of cooked rice instead of potatoes. Season as you like. It’s a rustic dish that you can adapt to the ingredients you have on hand. I like to serve this tian as the main dish at dinner, adding a leafy salad and a small cheese platter to round out the meal.

And if you’re looking for something interesting for Shavuot, something that emphasizes vegetables rather than cheese, tian is the ticket.

Continue reading »

Mar 092014

image onion roll

This is on of the goodies we’re going to pack into our Mishlochei Manot (Purim packages).  I recycle the junky snacks we receive into other packages, feeling a bit guilty. Not guilty because we’re not going to eat what our friends and neighbor planned, and spent money on, and took the trouble to deliver. No, guilty because all those little candies and snacks are going to contribute to Israel’s massive post-Purim sucrose hangover. I should just throw it all out. But I rationalize that someone should enjoy the junk…because in the end, our friends and neighbors did go to the trouble.

I love best the Mishlochei Manot that feature a few home-cooked things. Foods that were made by hand – cakes and cookies and specialties of the donors – I keep. Some go into the freezer right away to stay fresh for next Shabbat. Some we serve at our Purim feast. For our own Mishloche Manot, we’re thinking – and by we, I mean my son Eliezer, the Little One and I – of Hamentaschen,  filled with cherry jam.  And  small potato kugels.  Probably the chocolate fruit/nut clusters, because they’re excellent, and easy to make. And instead of the usual small challah, which looks good in the package but which I suspect never gets eaten, onion rolls.

Continue reading »

Feb 162014

carrot cake cream cheese frosting

I’m ready to admit it. Carrot cake is really homely-looking.

But looks aren’t everything.

Flavor counts. So does nostalgia. When I asked Husband which cake he’d like for his birthday,  his eyes went soft and he sighed, “Carrot cake.”There seemed to be a heavy element of childhood memories in that sigh.

I said, “With cream cheese frosting?” And Husband gave me a brilliant smile. Yes.

Continue reading »

Feb 092014

whole roasted cauliflower recipe

I’ve always loved cauliflower steamed until just tender, salted, and served with a little melted butter, or olive oil. But lately I’ve become curious about other ways to serve it, especially now when the vegetable is at peak season, so snowy and tender.  Something a little piquant seems called for, to offset the vegetables’ slight sweetness – something acid, something herbal, something cheesy.

Here’s a recipe that does all of that.  And the great thing is, it’s easy. Wait – another great thing. When you serve an entire head of cauliflower, all you need is good bread, butter, and salad to make a fine vegetarian meal. Continue reading »

Related Posts with Thumbnails