
Meatballs with chickpea flour. They were sitting demurely in a rich chicken broth, on a homely stovetop, in a tiny eatery in the Yemenite Quarter of Tel Aviv.
It looks like a typical home of that part of town. The only thing to indicate that there’s food for sale is a modest sign over the door: Shabbat Takeaway. You walk in and you’re standing in an apartment, in the living room of an apartment, where two women are cooking and serving the foods that their neighbors love. There’s a stove with four burners on your right as you enter, and a table loaded with covered pots off to one side.
Dorit and Nava are good friends who run this tiny eatery. (Dorit allowed me to take photos, but Nava was shy).


There are three makeshift tables.

I sat down to eat at one of them, but it’s really a local take-out place. That means that the food has to be kosher, authentic, and tasty, and inexpensive. (There is no kosher certificate, but I saw for myself that the foods are prepared in a kosher way, with grains checked and all raw ingredients from kosher sources).
Like mafroum (see my recipe for mafroum) . And the fiery chreime – fish poached in a chili-ful tomato sauce.

Stuffed grape leaves and stuffed peppers (recipe for stuffed grape leaves and artichoke hearts here).
Delicate and savory lamb patties.

And the soup that made me float about three feet off the ground – gondi soup.

I lifted the pot lid, peered in and sniffed, and asked Dorit, “How come you’re selling matzah balls to your Sephardic neighbors?”
“Not matzah balls. Gondi. Made of chicken and chickpeas,” she said mysteriously. Hm. I’d never eaten gondi. The aroma was so tempting that although I had only intended to spend two minutes photographing the little eatery, I ordered the soup and sat down to eat. Dorit joined me for a moment and told me that gondi was an invention of Iranian Jews. In Israel of course, even Ashkenazim like myself get to enjoy them.
Oh, Mama. It was more than delicious, it was sublime. The meatballs had cooked in a broth rich with carrots and onions and whole chicken pieces. The combination of ground chicken and freshly-ground roasted chickpeas made a light, flavorful dumpling. I don’t normally get obsessed with a particular dish, but the taste of that gondi soup stayed on my mind for a long time after I finished eating.
I culled recipes from books and made it at home for your viewing pleasure. Dorit said that she goes to the Carmel shuk for her chickpea flour – ground from whole roasted chickpeas as she stands there – but chickpea flour from the health food store also works.
Gondi Soup
Serves 6
Soup
1-1/2 kg (2 lbs) fresh chicken thighs and drumsticks
3 medium onions, peeled but left whole
2 zucchini, peeled and cut into two pieces each
3 carrots, cut into two pieces each
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
2 teaspoons salt
1 bay leaf (not traditional, but good)
1- 1/2 liters water
Put all the ingredients in a large pot. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer for 1 hour with the lid partly off. Remove the whole chicken pieces for another use (chicken salad, chicken pot pie). Keep the soup simmering because the gondi will cook in it.
Gondi meatballs
2 large onions, chopped finely or grated
500 grams (1 lb.) ground dark-meat chicken
1 cup chickpea flour
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground cardamum
1/4 cup finely chopped parsley or cilantro
2 teaspoons salt
pepper to taste
1/4 cup oil
1/3 cup water
Combine all the ingredients, mixing vigorously.
Wet your hands to form dumplings about the size of walnuts and add them, one by one, to the simmering soup.
Place the lid over the pot halfway off and simmer the meatballs for 1 hour.
Serve – again and again.
Dona Restaurant
Rechov Rabbi Meir 36
Yemenite Quarter, Tel Aviv
Kosher (without a certificate)
Open 10 AM to 4:00 PM, Tuesdays through Thursdays.
Fridays open till 2:00 PM.
Tel: 052-234-0100
