Hummus Part I: Abu Dhabi, Tel Aviv

Tel Aviv is fanatical about its hummus. Every year the newspapers publish the list of best hummus places, in Tel Aviv. And each place has its own character. My family is likewise fanatical about hummus. We make our own in Cleveland, but when we are here, we have a circuit of places we frequent. We prefer the hummus joints to any Michelin starred restaurant and it is one of the joys of being in Tel Aviv.

Yesterday we went to Abu Dhabi—to all outward appearances a hole in the wall, small tables with plastic chairs pulled out onto the pavement in front of the store front, and reggae music. Of course.

 but the hummus...ah the hummus.

We ordered three different varieties:


Meshouwsha
Cold hummus base, coarsely ground garbanzo beans with garlic and lots of lemon juice and topped with parsley and cumin and paprika, whole garbanzo beans and drizzled with olive oil. Optional (and recommended) hard boiled egg.









Machluta:
Same as above but also mixed with ful and t'hina on top.

Hummus-Ful

Hummus combined with ful (slow cooked small fava beans), topped with t'hina, olive oil, cumin, parsley and paprika and drizzled with olive oil.

Don't be shy about ordering "chips" with it.
And felafel (deep fried chick pea balls) is always delicious as well. This felafel is bright green inside from the chopped herbs with which it is made.

The pickles are on the table already.












An Israeli salad helps wash it down:

The proper technique for eating hummus is to wipe, or "l'nagev" the food from the plate with a pita. Only tourists eat hummus with a fork.

And for the hard-core, there is schug, a hot, hot concoction that was brought to the Israel by the Yemenite Jews. My husband's grandmother used to make it fresh.
It can be green or red depending on the recipe.













And now the table is set...

 The serious afficianado will leave a plate that looks like this.

Wiped clean!

And will be rewarded with a "tosefet," an additional portion of plain hummus in a plate.

And the additional portions will keep coming until the expert eater declines. Because you don't just pay for your plate, you pay for a full stomach, and they will bring the hummus until they are sure you have reached repletion.

And then comes the coffee!

The generosity is not just for the paying customer. While we were there a homeless man came and asked a waitress for money. She sent him into the kitchen to get a plate of hummus...

Wall Art in Tel Aviv

I first started paying attention to graffiti because one of my best friends in Tel Aviv is a graffiti artist, street name of "Starfish."  She is a ceramicist who creates miniature flat-backed street scenes and characters out of clay and runs out in the middle of the night and cements them on walls.

They are imaginative,

and whimsical,

lovely,

 local and topical,

and it is her contribution to the aesthetics here in Tel Aviv.

My son Amnon often helps her put them up. They meet at 3 am and run around our neighborhood with a pot of cement and a pile of her latest creations and the next day I can walk down the street and find them tucked into corners and doorways and onto walls.  It is a street scavenger hunt. Many of them don't last more than a few days—they are damaged or removed or simply taken away by collectors. Like a mandala in the sand Starfish just releases them to the tides of humanity that walk the streets. But people have noticed, as I found several instagram streams with photos of her work, and one photograph of her work was in a book put out by the Tel Aviv museum.

Sometimes I still pass a piece that Amnon and Starfish put up several years ago, still gracing its patch of vertical concrete.

My son Amnon got into the act himself when we lived here and he was a high school student at Gymnasia Herzaliya.  Below is his "Tintin Wall," an homage to his favorite childhood graphic books throughout his childhood: 

Knowing Starfish and her work  has opened up the eyes of my whole family to interesting and intriguing graffiti, or "street art," which is something of an international phenomenon. I love that artists (of varying degrees of talent) everywhere put up their work (for no compensation) just to express themselves and be seen. I am always awed by our need as a species to decorate, adorn and express. And this phenomena is getting more and more attention. 

And by the way, my friend Starfish is starting to plan her 70th Birthday! 

Here is a book that was just reviewed in the New York Times Book Review, and an article in the Times, "Learning Hebrew on the Streets, With Walls as Assigned Reading" — a course offered on Tel Aviv street art specifically.

As Raillan Brooks writes in his review, " “The World Atlas” reminds us of the obvious: Public art is as much about local identity as it is about artistic accomplishment. ... the book shows us a medium exceptional in its grasping for an essence of place and time. Oh, and it’s beautiful, too." 

Next door to us is a dedicated graffiti art supply store here. Doesn't everyone have one in their neighborhood?

And every bride and groom must be photographed in front of their favorite graffiti, don't you think?

Below is a collection of random shots I took while wandering the streets of my neighborhood yesterday—a small sampling of what is around if one's eyes are open!

Here is a link for a much larger sampling.

Enjoy your walk through Tel Aviv's living street galleries!

Cup of Coffee in Tel Aviv

 Café Bezalel

One of the (many) things I love about Tel Aviv is that it is a true café culture. There is a lovely café on just about every block, sometimes two. Each one has a personality of its own, and they are always full. And unlike walking into a Starbucks in the USA where everyone is plugged into their own private-Idaho-of-a-laptop, people are talking to each other. Loudly, happily, animatedly. What are all these people talking about all the time? I don't know but I come here and I want to join in the fun!

One café I like is right near our apartment and has a fun back story


The neighborhood legend is that the owner of the cafe lost her husband and then was left with a little bit of money. She picked herself up out of her widow's weeds, and invested in her life's dream: she studied to in Paris to be a pastry chef, came back and established Cafe Bezalel, at 2 Tchernikovsky Street. This cafe is practically unsearchable on the internet: locals only.

The view from the street is very inviting, with today's specialties displayed in the window. Full lunch menu available as well. We got there rather late in the local day though early in our jet lag, but not too late to snag two delicious pieces of cheesecake–one a European style dry cheesecake made with a ricotta type cheese, in Hebrew labeled "baked,"  and the other our standard dense New York Cheesecake, called "cheesecake-with-crumbs."My daughter liked them both, but I find myself partial to the "cheesecake-with-crumbs." Both were done to perfection and dispatched with ease. And of course the cafe hafuch (which means backwards), or latte, was also excellent. Something of an Italian coffee culture here.

 And like in Paris, it is not uncommon to see people bring their best friends:

Probably one of the reasons Tel Aviv has been hailed as the "Paris of the Mediterranean." A smaller, quieter, quirkier, and slightly grungier version of the City of Lights that can go head to toe with any famous European city's café life.

Cup of Coffee in the West 40's

This past Monday-Tuesday I had an overnight in New York City for a business meeting on Tuesday at noon. Got in late Monday, and stayed at a new hotel in Hell's Kitchen. I thought it would be a good opportunity to explore a neighborhood I don't know as well as my usual NYC hotel locations.

The original plan was to get up early and walk to the High Line for a brisk morning walk with views. Perhaps catch a cup of coffee with something crusty at a nice cafe. But when I awoke one look out the window at the slushy streets and heavy snow falling on commuter umbrellas caused me to roll back over and sleep. When you are raising a High School swimmer who has 5:45 am practices every morning (that you drive him to), getting to stay in bed on a weekday is almost worth the unpleasantness of air travel!

When I awoke I curled up on a lovely chaise lounge at my window and read for awhile, and then at about 10 am set out to find that crusty something with a good cup of coffee. I walked down 11th Avenue, and down some more, and down some more. Nothing! (Except a brief foray into the new Gotham West Market at W. 45th Steet, which was empty at that hour and very cold and industrial looking.) So finally somewhere in the mid-W. 30's I cut over to 10th Avenue and walked back up. And up. And up, all the way to W. 50th. Not one cute little coffee shop. Not even a Starbucks! Must be the only 20 city blocks without a Starbucks anywhere!

Finally, driven as much by soaking wet socks and sopping gloves as my time constraints, I gave up my notion of rustic City tourist-hood and pulled out my Android and put in "bakery." It directed me a few blocks back to Sullivan Bakery at 533 West 47th Street. Right on the way back to my hotel.

A few feet before I reached the promised land of the bakery, I came across a sliver of a storefront, Je & Jo Comestibles.

Always up for a change of plan I turned off my navigation and entered.

I then had one of those heavenly travel experiences that are the perfect mix of having just about given up, and serendipity doo-dah. The barrista was friendly and welcoming (not a barrista-droid), the coffee was outstanding and the almond croissant I chose out of the case was simply the best almond croissant I have ever tasted. I have made something of a career of comparing and contrasting almond croissants in various cities.

I had secreted away a New York Times inside my coat - which had remained miraculously dry, and I sat down at the little bench and had myself one of the most pleasant hours of the week...
gazing out at the street and reading several really great articles before I had to run along. I even dried my feet and gloves on the radiator under my counter.

Before going I asked the barrista where the croissants come from, and it turns out they are from the bakery Ceci-Cela which was voted best croissant in New York City. And no wonder.

I also got a great ramen noodle recommendation 
from my friendly Barrista before hitting the road,  with a bag of croissants in hand to bring my kids for breakfast the next morning.




Note: je & jo is actually famous for their home-made ice-cream. Next time...