2024-02-02 16:33:32
Hello to my support group, I’m Kipnis and I’m a “foodie”. While we hug (in agreement), I will start with a lament: at the end of this month, the “Brut” restaurant, which operated in the Montefiore and Nachalat Binyamin Streets Foundation for the past 11 years, will close. Yes, I know what you are thinking to yourself right now, at least some of you: hard times, the country is at war – and the man is mourning the closing of a restaurant?
Gantz and Inzkot are afraid: it’s either a military government, or the return of Hamas Haim Ramon
So that’s it, yes. I mean, God forbid, I’m not comparing a tragedy of loss of life to the closing of a business (and more by choice!) but only asserting that just as life needs a human shield in the form of our heroic soldiers, so in order for them to have something to fight for and somewhere to return to, we also need courage in citizenship. My civic heroes are writers, poets, musicians, fashion designers or chefs, screenwriters, directors or winemakers, people who give flavor to my life. From the kitchen (which we will get into shortly) to the “cook” (Gal Toren, what an actor!).
There will be those who will say that it is too physical, that it is better to follow some genius and great rabbi in the Torah, and contrast: those who claim in the name of health can mention here the name of some guru of fitness and nutrition. To these I will also answer these two: First, life is a physical thing, so those who believe in the next world or reincarnation may prepare themselves according to the recommendation of Rabbi Jacob (Mishnah, Avot, 4:15): “Set yourself up in the vestibule so that you can enter the lounge”, while I do not desire for whale meat or wild ox, but rather delights in the sideboard in the corridor.
The second thing that is important to note is that there is no greater danger than getting between me and my next meal, so even if you are not convinced of the validity of my claims, for your safety it is better that you get out of my way.
Now that we are around the table (I personally prefer the bar, but there are too many of you), let’s fill the first of four glasses, as a Pesach order.
I will dedicate the first one to my three children: I will wish the eldest one success in the career she has chosen. For my middle, the student, I wish that his reserve service will end soon and he can return and concentrate on his studies. And to the little one, the soldier, I will bless that the course she started this week will enable her to be of significant service.
I dedicated the first cup to my children not only because they are in my eyes, but also because I created three “foodies”: the eldest, although she fell into vegetarianism, is a gracious cook and knows how to enjoy food – from the cheeses and olives of the Thessaloniki delicatessens in Levinski market to chef restaurants. Her brother also has a developed palate. When he is not in the reserves or studying, he supplements his income as a waiter in one of the fun culinary establishments in the city, at the same time as producing (non-commercial) alcoholic beverages. The last of them – the fermentation of pomegranates – produced some wonderful dry versions.
The little one is forced to fulfill her needs by ordering special dishes made by her father, for the Shabbats when she returns home. It was only in the army that she realized how unusual she was, when the other girls in the department were enthusiastic about the food in the military dining hall (which is served with oil and some edible salads).
Here it is my duty to emphasize that connoisseurship is not a luxury – I have survived enough years on combat rations in the field, sometimes even in such a time crunch, with a can of chicken roulade in one hand – and in the other a slice of flat bread smeared with jam from a tube, when I bite into them. My children, who grew up on the lap of the best chefs in the city, eat whatever is available, even when they are cooking for something much tastier.
A second toast to the life of restaurateurs who are not chefs. These are sometimes seen as greedy, but we will see you running a business where every official and inspector cheats, just because he can. Any deviation from the routine – from a winter storm to a global epidemic to an existential war – stops the cash register, while the rent is paid as usual and young employees do not want to work in the business, despite generous wages. More than once I hear from successful restaurateurs about their decision to withdraw from the war on windmills, what’s more, they don’t get the aura of the craftsman that hangs over the chefs’ heads.
And here we come to the heroes of my third glass, the chefs. The famous saying goes that if you can’t stand the heat, you better get out of the kitchen. But they do not abandon but reinvent themselves every night, in an abrasive industry where you are only as good as the last dish you took out.
The latter are the people of the wine and alcohol industry. The ones that make wonderful delicacies even tastier. The winemakers, brewers and distillers (a relatively new industry in Israel, certainly in its elite category), who in recent years have brought a lot of respect to the local food scene.
The four glasses were finished, yet I saved the last row for the heroes of the first paragraph: chefs Yair Yousfi and Omar Ben Gal, who in the last 11 years have turned their “brut” into a coveted dish of wonderful Eretz Israel cuisine. Thank you for meals that were even more fascinating than those I ate in Michelin-starred restaurants. Go up and succeed with your food-tech venture, and win an exit that will allow you to return to the kitchen, but only for fun.
#country #war #mourn #among #closing #restaurant #Kipnis