The Jewish Journal; May 31, 2007
Click here for original
Only Rita could have pulled it off. Her famous "One" concert was the first time any Israeli recording artist has attempted such an extravagant, multimedia performance. With its crew of 50 tumbling dancers, grandiose costumes, pyrotechnics and video art, the $5 million production looked like it came right off the Las Vegas Strip.
Rita Last summer's show at the Tel Aviv Exhibition Center, which took its inspiration from Céline Dion's year-round Caesar's Palace concert, "A New Day," drew close to 100,000 fans over a period of one month. That's a lot of concertgoers for a country with a population of some 7 million, especially considering the concert was held during the height of the second Lebanon War.
"It was like a miracle," said Rita, who much like Madonna and Cher eschews her last name. "It was a huge success."
The concert proved that after 25 years on the stage, Rita is Israel's most beloved diva. And at 45, the daring performer shows no signs of slowing down.
This month, Rita has something more intimate planned for Angelenos. Only 500 tickets are available for her June 5 performance at the American Jewish University's (formerly the University of Judaism) Gindi Auditorium.
"My desire in bringing Rita to this location, as opposed to a larger venue which we could have easily sold, is to provide people the unique opportunity to experience an intimate evening with one of Israel's best," said Gady Levy, dean and vice president of the AJU's department of continuing education. "What I believe Rita does best is connect with her audience during a show. The close, informal setting will allow her to connect with the audience even more."
The Tehran-born singer, known for her passionate love ballads, already enjoys a built-in Los Angeles fan club. After the Islamic revolution in Iran in the late 1970s, most of her family in Iran split between Israel and Los Angeles, and she maintains close ties with her Los Angeles family, not to be confused with her Jewish fans abroad, who she also terms "family."
Born in 1962, Rita Yahan-Farouz dreamed of performing from the time she was 4, when she sang into a microphone at her uncle's engagement party, while standing on a chair.
"While singing, I remember it very clearly ... very, very, very clearly.... I knew that that's what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I felt like I was home," she said.
Her Zionist father felt it was time to pack their bags in 1970 after Rita's sister came home crying because she refused to recite a Muslim prayer at school. The singer moved to Israel with her family at age 8.
As a teenager in Israel, Rita worked her way through dance school, acting school and voice lessons. The day after performing one of her singles for the Israeli Pre-Eurovision Song Contest, the Persian beauty was mobbed on the bus by new fans.
"It was a Cinderella story," she said. "I didn't know that it became that I could never go on a bus again. I got out after two stations. The entire bus was on me, touching and asking, and I didn't know what happened. It was strange, very strange, very new, very frightening."
But Rita didn't set out to be the Israeli idol she is today.
"You don't think big," she said. "You're innocent. It's not like now that everyone sees all these contests, like 'American Idol.' It's much more something that burns inside of you that you want to sing to people -- you don't think about big success, fame, nothing like that. It's much deeper."
Rita is flattered by her comparison to Canadian American legend Celine Dion, although when asked who her American idols are, she answers with little hesitation: "Beyonce. I don't know whether to kiss or hit her because she's amazing. She's really something. She sings, she dances. I like very much the last record of Christian Aguilera."
She counts Kate Bush and Barbra Streisand among her earlier influences for their multifaceted talents.
Of Dion she said, "I think [she] has a great voice -- a great, great voice -- but I never sat and cried when I heard her." Nevertheless, it's hard to deny the similarities.
As a thespian, Rita has starred in Israel's stage musicals of "My Fair Lady" and "Chicago." Despite the occasional provocative, sexy dress, Rita, a mother of two (Meshi, 15, and Noam, 6) radiates a pure, "put together" image.
Rita married her teenage sweetheart, singer-songwriter Rami Kleinstein, who has written, arranged and produced many of her albums and who has performed at American Jewish University in the past. Their musical marriage is one of the most celebrated and enduring in Israel.
Rita's attempt to break into the international market was cut short, in part, by her commitment to her family. She became pregnant with her second daughter while on tour in Europe promoting her English album, "A Time for Peace," which sold just 20,000 copies.
"I think this is a very important decision to make," she said. "I decided that I didn't want to be famous and miserable when I come home alone. That's why I had to decide that my main career will be in one place, so I could build a family with children and a husband."
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
The test for Tike (restaurant review)
Jerusalem Post, Weekend Magazine; May 24, 2007
Tike, the second Israel branch of an international Turkish chain, is attempting to bring blessing to a high- rent, high-profile locale on Ibn Gvirol. Will it succeed?
When I used to live near Kikar Rabin, I'd pass by Ibn Gvirol between David Hamelekh and Bloch streets almost daily and witness the slow rise and quick fall of any restaurant that dared to open on the same block as the ever-popular, ever-packed Brasserie. Any restaurant which opens up in what is jokingly referred to as the "cursed spot" always runs the risk of constantly being mentioned in the same sentence as its dominating neighbor.
First there was soccer-legend Itzik Zohar's "Oliver K" bistro, which was DOA (Dead On Arrival), lasting only about six months. Then there was the valorous attempt of the seafood restaurant, Frank Fish. It stood empty for much of its year-long career, while Brasserie continued to boast a waiting list at any given hour.
Now Tike (pronounced tea-keh), the second Israel branch of this international Turkish chain, is attempting to bring blessing to this high-rent, high-profile locale. Recently, many restaurants have branches on or branched off from Ibn Gvirol: the Eastern fusion Minna Tomei, the seafood giant Goocha and the nightlife hotspot Silon are just some examples.
Tike, however, is following its own lead.
It has already made its mark in the Fertile Crescent as a gourmet Turkish restaurant offering the best and finest of Turkish cuisine in a modern, Westernized setting. Its 11 branches in Turkey and one in Greece generally serve businesspeople and high society. This made the Herzliya business district the natural location for its first Israel branch, introduced into the country last year.
Tike's Tel Aviv design is definitely inviting. It blends Turkish motifs with New York style and clean lines. The restaurant is split into small enclaves, smoking and non-smoking, which lend themselves to privacy among the diners. Watch the Turkish pitot come out in a hearth in the center of the restaurant.
That Tike offers a new concept for Tel Avivians already gives it an edge over its failed predecessors. The appetizers, presented artistically and professionally, perfectly demonstrate Tike's culinary objective: to concoct authentic Turkish dishes using the finest raw materials.
We started off with the flavorful Lahmacun (NIS 18), a thin pastry topped with tomatoes and herbed lamb, which already hinted at the high standards of preparation of Tike's Turkish chefs.
The creativity and attention to detail was evident in the two stuffed appetizers, Yaprak Dolmasi (stuffed grape leaves) and Cig Kofta ("kibbeh," or stuffed bulgar). The ground lamb of both dishes delicately absorbed the unexpected spices, among them cinnamon, pine nuts and red currants. The Mutebbel (NIS 20), a grilled eggplant dish, is poised to be a favorite among eggplant and yogurt lovers.
The main dishes that arrived at our table, however, didn't live up to the expectations set up by the appetizers. The lamb kebab of the flagship dish, Adane Kebop, was a little on the dry side, and I could not pinpoint any specific feature or flavor that would distinguish it from other kebabs I've tried. The side serving of rice was plain and small, making me wonder if the dish justified its price of NIS 69. The Iskender Kebap, with its leaf cut of "doner" meat, looked promising, but the sauce tasted a bit like tomato paste. Hidden under the thin slivers of meat were bread crumbs, which didn't add much to the dish and actually detracted from its generosity.
Any misgivings about the main dishes, however, were immediately rectified when we took a bit of the mouth-watering helva, a mound of sweet-flavored semolina and cheese over a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Talk about a Turkish delight! The Kunefe was excellent as well.
Spirits are the specialty of the manager and co-owner, Dudi Zats, a former bar manager, and he does an excellent job adapting the popular Turkish anise liquor to create cocktails that blend the old with the new. The Southern Sabres, a blend of South Comfort and the Israeli sabra, and the Kosmo Raki, a Turkish take on the Cosmopolitan, were both superb. By virtue of the cocktails, Tike's bar has the potential to become the center of the restaurant during prime nightlife hours.
The menus of the two Israeli branches are exactly the same, so one test for Tel Aviv's Tike will be location, location, location. Given the prestige of Brasserie among the Tel Aviv branja (in crowd), it's likely that young, stylish locals who dine to see and be seen may yet prefer to spend their money on Tike's neighbor. Those looking for a unique, quieter and more specialized dining experience may opt for this Turkish delight.
Tike could very well be the restaurant to exorcize the Bloch/ Hamelekh curse. If it can't, didn't any one ever think of trying something totally new there - like a clothing store, perhaps?
Tike, Rehov Ibn Gvirol 74, 12 noon to 2 a.m., (03) 696-5315. Not kosher.
Tike, the second Israel branch of an international Turkish chain, is attempting to bring blessing to a high- rent, high-profile locale on Ibn Gvirol. Will it succeed?
When I used to live near Kikar Rabin, I'd pass by Ibn Gvirol between David Hamelekh and Bloch streets almost daily and witness the slow rise and quick fall of any restaurant that dared to open on the same block as the ever-popular, ever-packed Brasserie. Any restaurant which opens up in what is jokingly referred to as the "cursed spot" always runs the risk of constantly being mentioned in the same sentence as its dominating neighbor.
First there was soccer-legend Itzik Zohar's "Oliver K" bistro, which was DOA (Dead On Arrival), lasting only about six months. Then there was the valorous attempt of the seafood restaurant, Frank Fish. It stood empty for much of its year-long career, while Brasserie continued to boast a waiting list at any given hour.
Now Tike (pronounced tea-keh), the second Israel branch of this international Turkish chain, is attempting to bring blessing to this high-rent, high-profile locale. Recently, many restaurants have branches on or branched off from Ibn Gvirol: the Eastern fusion Minna Tomei, the seafood giant Goocha and the nightlife hotspot Silon are just some examples.
Tike, however, is following its own lead.
It has already made its mark in the Fertile Crescent as a gourmet Turkish restaurant offering the best and finest of Turkish cuisine in a modern, Westernized setting. Its 11 branches in Turkey and one in Greece generally serve businesspeople and high society. This made the Herzliya business district the natural location for its first Israel branch, introduced into the country last year.
Tike's Tel Aviv design is definitely inviting. It blends Turkish motifs with New York style and clean lines. The restaurant is split into small enclaves, smoking and non-smoking, which lend themselves to privacy among the diners. Watch the Turkish pitot come out in a hearth in the center of the restaurant.
That Tike offers a new concept for Tel Avivians already gives it an edge over its failed predecessors. The appetizers, presented artistically and professionally, perfectly demonstrate Tike's culinary objective: to concoct authentic Turkish dishes using the finest raw materials.
We started off with the flavorful Lahmacun (NIS 18), a thin pastry topped with tomatoes and herbed lamb, which already hinted at the high standards of preparation of Tike's Turkish chefs.
The creativity and attention to detail was evident in the two stuffed appetizers, Yaprak Dolmasi (stuffed grape leaves) and Cig Kofta ("kibbeh," or stuffed bulgar). The ground lamb of both dishes delicately absorbed the unexpected spices, among them cinnamon, pine nuts and red currants. The Mutebbel (NIS 20), a grilled eggplant dish, is poised to be a favorite among eggplant and yogurt lovers.
The main dishes that arrived at our table, however, didn't live up to the expectations set up by the appetizers. The lamb kebab of the flagship dish, Adane Kebop, was a little on the dry side, and I could not pinpoint any specific feature or flavor that would distinguish it from other kebabs I've tried. The side serving of rice was plain and small, making me wonder if the dish justified its price of NIS 69. The Iskender Kebap, with its leaf cut of "doner" meat, looked promising, but the sauce tasted a bit like tomato paste. Hidden under the thin slivers of meat were bread crumbs, which didn't add much to the dish and actually detracted from its generosity.
Any misgivings about the main dishes, however, were immediately rectified when we took a bit of the mouth-watering helva, a mound of sweet-flavored semolina and cheese over a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Talk about a Turkish delight! The Kunefe was excellent as well.
Spirits are the specialty of the manager and co-owner, Dudi Zats, a former bar manager, and he does an excellent job adapting the popular Turkish anise liquor to create cocktails that blend the old with the new. The Southern Sabres, a blend of South Comfort and the Israeli sabra, and the Kosmo Raki, a Turkish take on the Cosmopolitan, were both superb. By virtue of the cocktails, Tike's bar has the potential to become the center of the restaurant during prime nightlife hours.
The menus of the two Israeli branches are exactly the same, so one test for Tel Aviv's Tike will be location, location, location. Given the prestige of Brasserie among the Tel Aviv branja (in crowd), it's likely that young, stylish locals who dine to see and be seen may yet prefer to spend their money on Tike's neighbor. Those looking for a unique, quieter and more specialized dining experience may opt for this Turkish delight.
Tike could very well be the restaurant to exorcize the Bloch/ Hamelekh curse. If it can't, didn't any one ever think of trying something totally new there - like a clothing store, perhaps?
Tike, Rehov Ibn Gvirol 74, 12 noon to 2 a.m., (03) 696-5315. Not kosher.
Rockets raining on Sderot take physical and mental toll on city
The Jewish Journal; May 24, 2007
Click here for original
It's a smooth car ride to Sderot.
There's very little traffic on this Sunday between Jerusalem and the battered city. Sunflower fields line the road and then the vast prairies of the Negev; it's difficult to fathom that only a few kilometers away rockets are raining.
We stop for gas and notice a blond woman heading out to the highway.
"Want a tremp [ride]?" my friend, the driver, asks.
"Where are you going?" she responds.
"Sderot," he says.
She shakes her head with an "are you crazy?" look. "I just came from there. I'm not going back."
The entrance to Sderot is crowded with policemen. A sign is posted on a car nearby; it reads, in Arabic: "F--- YOU, HAMAS."
We figure a rocket has just landed at the entrance, but it turns out the police were clearing a protest staged by Sderot residents angry at the government's apparent apathy toward their situation, which Israel Defense Minister Amir Peretz defined that day as "special." Special indeed.
A billboard advertising Shabbat candlelighting times greets us as we enter Sderot. Other billboard ads are peeling off, neglected.
Yet Sderot is not a ghost town, despite the thousands of residents who have already fled the city. People are still waiting at bus stops; the supermarket is open, though few cars are on the roads. I even notice a street cleaner. But the town looks tired. If Sderot had a theme, it would be: "What's gonna be with us?"
"There's always fear. It's always tense. You're always stepped on. What can I say, you hope for the best," says David Alon, a resident of Netivot, a town about 10 miles away. He is in Sderot because he works here every day for Hevra Kadisha, the Jewish burial society. He thinks it's only a matter of time until Netivot comes under fire, as well.
As Alon begins to talk about the 2005 disengagement from Gaza as the cause for Sderot's troubles, we hear on loudspeakers: "Red alert! Red alert!"
Alon shudders and darts away. "Get under there," he says, pointing to the corridor of a building.
"Is it safe?" I ask, noticing that we are exposed.
"It's good enough," he replies.
After only a few seconds, I hear that powerful, heart-shattering boom.
Talk about scary.
But there isn't time to be scared. We immediately get in the car and follow the ambulances to get a view of where the missile fell. People are gathered on pavements, looking out from the balconies, even though this isn't new to them. More than 100 missiles have been fired on Sderot in the past week.
We drive a little too fast, and I wonder if I should put on my seatbelt.
"It's not a good idea," says a local woman who has joined us. "We might have to run out for cover."
The ambulances can't seem to find the site, and they circle around the city, which isn't so big, for about 15 minutes, until all the press and emergency forces converge on a school, which is where the missile landed. Luckily, school was out for the day. There is only minor damage and no injuries, we are told.
Next, we visit a family on a small street with pale yellow apartment buildings. One woman looks out from her porch. A sign reads: "FOR SALE."
"Is it because of the situation?" I ask the 60-something woman, a Sderot resident of 31 years.
She says it's not, but I bet she's lying. She doesn't want to broadcast weakness: "If you're afraid, you have to leave all of Israel. We're not afraid. It's our country....We live here. We get used to it."
Across the street, Malka Tzippora, a 51-year-old single mother of four, is anything but used to the situation.
"I'm paranoid because of my children and grandchildren," she says. "When you call your children and they don't answer, you think the worst."
She apologizes for not offering me any coffee or refreshments, but her house, she says, is in disarray. She's in no mood to clean. Bags with food are on the kitchen counter, dishes are dirty, her 5-year-old grandson keeps nagging her to watch television with him, his shows -- something happy -- but she tells him to go sit down on the sofas.
"You don't have patience for your kids," she explains. "You're short with them because of the anger, pressure. You don't mean it, but it comes from fear."
Her son, who was injured fighting in Lebanon in the 1990s, is sending his family off to England to his wife's family. Moroccan-born Tzippora herself dreams of returning to France, where she lived for 10 years, before moving to Israel.
"They treated me well," she says. "The education for my children was better.
People are polite; they care for each other."
She's angry at the Israeli government for "tying the army's hands," adding: "It hurts that you fight for the country, and they throw you to the dogs." Of Israel's leaders, she says: "A man with a potbelly that always expands can't see under it."
Gabriel Attias, 42, a resident of Sderot, is handicapped from two car accidents. He couldn't help but express his anger to a group of journalists who gathered to watch the installation of a LifeShield bomb shelter (see related story on Page 14) next to a children's nursery. He aimed particular barbs at Peretz, a former mayor of Sderot. "He does nothing."
"What should he do?" someone asks.
"Go into Gaza and bomb them!" Attias responds.
Then he lashes out at the journalists: "And I'm angry at you. You don't go to the sick people at home. You just come and go where you want and look for some noise." Realizing I'm no angel, I offer to visit his wheelchair-bound, sick mother, but she was recently taken to a nursing home in Ashkelon. "When, when, when will there be quiet?" he shouts.
He wants me to tell the world: "We are suffering. Families are destroyed, children are destroyed, homes are destroyed and [Prime Minister Ehud] Olmert and Peretz don't do anything. All the money donated to the municipalities, we don't see a cent of it."
A 27-year-old onlooker is more forgiving of the government's seeming inaction, at least in regard to military activity. He doesn't think there is any quick-fix solution, and he's patient, describing his decision to stay in Sderot as a "gamble with fate."
"Gaza is the densest place in the world. You can't just do what you did in Operation Defensive Shield," he says. "You'll take a lot of IDF fatalities."
A 5-year-old girl sits on the lawn with a teddy bear outside her apartment, whose windows had been damaged not long ago by shrapnel from a missile strike across the street. She seems to be the calmest of the people I've spoken with, whether from childish naiveté or repressed uncertainty.
"When there are Qassam rockets, we hide here," she says matter-of-factly but sweetly, pointing to her ground-floor apartment. "We don't have shelters."
"Are you afraid?" I ask.
"We're afraid of the boom," she replies.
By the late afternoon, we've been here for about three hours; as we get ready to leave Sderot, we stop by a local falafel stand empty of customers. They are still functioning, but "business is terrible. People are afraid to go out. We make less of everything," reports Eliran, an 18-year-old worker there. The falafel was still good, though -- fresh.
On our way out, we notice smoke billowing in the skies. Was it a rocket? No, tires have been set aflame by local shopkeepers, one way of protesting their "special situation."
Back in Jerusalem, that boom still rings in my ears. As much as the echo of the man's booming cry: "When? When? When will there be quiet?"
Click here for original
It's a smooth car ride to Sderot.
There's very little traffic on this Sunday between Jerusalem and the battered city. Sunflower fields line the road and then the vast prairies of the Negev; it's difficult to fathom that only a few kilometers away rockets are raining.
We stop for gas and notice a blond woman heading out to the highway.
"Want a tremp [ride]?" my friend, the driver, asks.
"Where are you going?" she responds.
"Sderot," he says.
She shakes her head with an "are you crazy?" look. "I just came from there. I'm not going back."
The entrance to Sderot is crowded with policemen. A sign is posted on a car nearby; it reads, in Arabic: "F--- YOU, HAMAS."
We figure a rocket has just landed at the entrance, but it turns out the police were clearing a protest staged by Sderot residents angry at the government's apparent apathy toward their situation, which Israel Defense Minister Amir Peretz defined that day as "special." Special indeed.
A billboard advertising Shabbat candlelighting times greets us as we enter Sderot. Other billboard ads are peeling off, neglected.
Yet Sderot is not a ghost town, despite the thousands of residents who have already fled the city. People are still waiting at bus stops; the supermarket is open, though few cars are on the roads. I even notice a street cleaner. But the town looks tired. If Sderot had a theme, it would be: "What's gonna be with us?"
"There's always fear. It's always tense. You're always stepped on. What can I say, you hope for the best," says David Alon, a resident of Netivot, a town about 10 miles away. He is in Sderot because he works here every day for Hevra Kadisha, the Jewish burial society. He thinks it's only a matter of time until Netivot comes under fire, as well.
As Alon begins to talk about the 2005 disengagement from Gaza as the cause for Sderot's troubles, we hear on loudspeakers: "Red alert! Red alert!"
Alon shudders and darts away. "Get under there," he says, pointing to the corridor of a building.
"Is it safe?" I ask, noticing that we are exposed.
"It's good enough," he replies.
After only a few seconds, I hear that powerful, heart-shattering boom.
Talk about scary.
But there isn't time to be scared. We immediately get in the car and follow the ambulances to get a view of where the missile fell. People are gathered on pavements, looking out from the balconies, even though this isn't new to them. More than 100 missiles have been fired on Sderot in the past week.
We drive a little too fast, and I wonder if I should put on my seatbelt.
"It's not a good idea," says a local woman who has joined us. "We might have to run out for cover."
The ambulances can't seem to find the site, and they circle around the city, which isn't so big, for about 15 minutes, until all the press and emergency forces converge on a school, which is where the missile landed. Luckily, school was out for the day. There is only minor damage and no injuries, we are told.
Next, we visit a family on a small street with pale yellow apartment buildings. One woman looks out from her porch. A sign reads: "FOR SALE."
"Is it because of the situation?" I ask the 60-something woman, a Sderot resident of 31 years.
She says it's not, but I bet she's lying. She doesn't want to broadcast weakness: "If you're afraid, you have to leave all of Israel. We're not afraid. It's our country....We live here. We get used to it."
Across the street, Malka Tzippora, a 51-year-old single mother of four, is anything but used to the situation.
"I'm paranoid because of my children and grandchildren," she says. "When you call your children and they don't answer, you think the worst."
She apologizes for not offering me any coffee or refreshments, but her house, she says, is in disarray. She's in no mood to clean. Bags with food are on the kitchen counter, dishes are dirty, her 5-year-old grandson keeps nagging her to watch television with him, his shows -- something happy -- but she tells him to go sit down on the sofas.
"You don't have patience for your kids," she explains. "You're short with them because of the anger, pressure. You don't mean it, but it comes from fear."
Her son, who was injured fighting in Lebanon in the 1990s, is sending his family off to England to his wife's family. Moroccan-born Tzippora herself dreams of returning to France, where she lived for 10 years, before moving to Israel.
"They treated me well," she says. "The education for my children was better.
People are polite; they care for each other."
She's angry at the Israeli government for "tying the army's hands," adding: "It hurts that you fight for the country, and they throw you to the dogs." Of Israel's leaders, she says: "A man with a potbelly that always expands can't see under it."
Gabriel Attias, 42, a resident of Sderot, is handicapped from two car accidents. He couldn't help but express his anger to a group of journalists who gathered to watch the installation of a LifeShield bomb shelter (see related story on Page 14) next to a children's nursery. He aimed particular barbs at Peretz, a former mayor of Sderot. "He does nothing."
"What should he do?" someone asks.
"Go into Gaza and bomb them!" Attias responds.
Then he lashes out at the journalists: "And I'm angry at you. You don't go to the sick people at home. You just come and go where you want and look for some noise." Realizing I'm no angel, I offer to visit his wheelchair-bound, sick mother, but she was recently taken to a nursing home in Ashkelon. "When, when, when will there be quiet?" he shouts.
He wants me to tell the world: "We are suffering. Families are destroyed, children are destroyed, homes are destroyed and [Prime Minister Ehud] Olmert and Peretz don't do anything. All the money donated to the municipalities, we don't see a cent of it."
A 27-year-old onlooker is more forgiving of the government's seeming inaction, at least in regard to military activity. He doesn't think there is any quick-fix solution, and he's patient, describing his decision to stay in Sderot as a "gamble with fate."
"Gaza is the densest place in the world. You can't just do what you did in Operation Defensive Shield," he says. "You'll take a lot of IDF fatalities."
A 5-year-old girl sits on the lawn with a teddy bear outside her apartment, whose windows had been damaged not long ago by shrapnel from a missile strike across the street. She seems to be the calmest of the people I've spoken with, whether from childish naiveté or repressed uncertainty.
"When there are Qassam rockets, we hide here," she says matter-of-factly but sweetly, pointing to her ground-floor apartment. "We don't have shelters."
"Are you afraid?" I ask.
"We're afraid of the boom," she replies.
By the late afternoon, we've been here for about three hours; as we get ready to leave Sderot, we stop by a local falafel stand empty of customers. They are still functioning, but "business is terrible. People are afraid to go out. We make less of everything," reports Eliran, an 18-year-old worker there. The falafel was still good, though -- fresh.
On our way out, we notice smoke billowing in the skies. Was it a rocket? No, tires have been set aflame by local shopkeepers, one way of protesting their "special situation."
Back in Jerusalem, that boom still rings in my ears. As much as the echo of the man's booming cry: "When? When? When will there be quiet?"
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Israeli 'Idol' worshipers
Jerusalem Post, Daily; May 22, 2007
Tonight Blake and Jordin will fight for the 'American Idol' singing crown. But the show's many Israeli fans will have to wait to see the results
As millions of Americans sit on the edge of their sofas tonight to find out whether Jordin Sparks or Blake Lewis will be crowned the next 'American Idol,' many Israelis will have to hold off a few more days.
This year, for the first time in the show's six year run, American Idol was bought for prime time Israeli television. The finale will be broadcast on Channel 3, commercial free and with subtitles, on Friday night, and repeated on Saturday night so Idol-loving Shabbat observers need not feel left out.
'The show receives very high ratings on both screenings,' said Hila Shafir, spokesperson for HOT. Channel 3 is also carried by YES, Israel's satellite network. 'American Idol is extremely popular around the world, and also in Israel, so we wanted to bring the program to the Israeli people.'
But for some Israelis, it took too long for Israel's cable networks to get with the program, so to speak, and they began to watch it on Star World, an Asian channel, carried this year only by HOT. Star World has hosted the show since season three (Fantasia Barrino's year) and broadcasts it with a day's delay.
Hanna Kaypuya, the founder of the American Idol internet forum on Tapuz, a popular Israeli internet portal, first discovered the show on Star World and has been hooked ever since. She started the forum 'because there wasn't anyone in Israel to talk about it with.' Kaypuya has noticed a hike in interest in the forum this year, and some 200 registered members now share predictions, compare favorites and post links
Anat Tamir, 28, a human resource professional who lives in Tel Aviv, had been a lone fan of the show for three years, but now she regularly discusses the outcomes with friends. 'I feel less special now. I liked to be the only one who watched it.'
If the Tapuz forum can be a fair touchstone of Israeli taste, then Melinda Doolittle was the clear Israeli favorite. 'The final three were all favorites in the forum,' Kaypuya says, adding that they also liked the quirky Sanjaya Malakar, who is now a household name for his widely-publicized, unexpected staying power, and his unusual hairdos.
Of Doolittle's elimination, Kaypuya says that 'most people were shocked and upset. Surprisingly, some were shocked yet satisfied. One person blamed Simon [Cowell], because Simon said he wanted Melinda in the finale, and America loves to annoy Simon - look what they did with Sanjaya.' The beloved Malakar was panned for his lack of singing ability by Cowell, but fans kept him on the show for weeks on end.
IN ADDITION to Web forums, Erev Tov with Guy Pines, Israel's leading television entertainment show, sums up Idol events every week, contributing to the show's popularity. Israel Zohar, a senior correspondent for Pines, attributes the popularity of American Idol in Israel in part to Israelis' love for singing competitions.
'[American Idol] is good television. From the auditions, which are funnily edited, through the elimination stages through the finals. The songs are good, and of course, there's Simon Cowell, one of the funniest and most sarcastic guys around. Every time I cover the show, I use at least one of his quotes.'
Israel's version of American Idol, 'Kochav Nolad,' ('A Star is Born'), kicked off its fifth season this past Friday. Like American Idol, the show is a leading platform for breakthrough stars, like Ninet Tayeb, Shiri Maimon, and Harel Skaat, who all enjoy prolific careers in entertainment thanks to the program.
Kaypuya prefers American Idol over Kochav Nolad for its professionalism; its emphasis on voice quality rather than looks; and Simon, whose bluntness is unmatched among the Kochav Nolad judges.
Tamir agrees. '[Kochav Nolad] messes with your mind. They think it's not nice to eliminate people, so they bring them back. Beside I like Simon. He's amazing.'
DeDe Komisar, a grant writer and stage actress who made aliya to Jerusalem in September, actually discovered the show in Israel, not in America. She felt 'peer pressure' to watch it while rehearsing for a play in Jerusalem. Her fellow cast members, all American, kept talking about the show during rehearsals.
'I guess in the US there's so much other stuff on TV, and I had an aversion to mainstream, American pop stuff. I was only into indie stuff, but here it was - a way to connect to America, and American Idol is beyond huge.'
Komisar doesn't define herself as 'obsessed,' but admits that she has visited American Idol blogs and particularly likes the 'Vote for the Worst' website. For Passover her parents gave her, as an afikoman gift, the DVD of the 'Best and Worst of American Idol.'
But now that Melinda, her favorite, has been voted off, the show has lost its enchantment. 'I'm so pissed that Melinda got sent home! She could mop the floor with the other two! I'm disillusioned with the show and it's lost the magic for me at this point.'
Tonight Blake and Jordin will fight for the 'American Idol' singing crown. But the show's many Israeli fans will have to wait to see the results
As millions of Americans sit on the edge of their sofas tonight to find out whether Jordin Sparks or Blake Lewis will be crowned the next 'American Idol,' many Israelis will have to hold off a few more days.
This year, for the first time in the show's six year run, American Idol was bought for prime time Israeli television. The finale will be broadcast on Channel 3, commercial free and with subtitles, on Friday night, and repeated on Saturday night so Idol-loving Shabbat observers need not feel left out.
'The show receives very high ratings on both screenings,' said Hila Shafir, spokesperson for HOT. Channel 3 is also carried by YES, Israel's satellite network. 'American Idol is extremely popular around the world, and also in Israel, so we wanted to bring the program to the Israeli people.'
But for some Israelis, it took too long for Israel's cable networks to get with the program, so to speak, and they began to watch it on Star World, an Asian channel, carried this year only by HOT. Star World has hosted the show since season three (Fantasia Barrino's year) and broadcasts it with a day's delay.
Hanna Kaypuya, the founder of the American Idol internet forum on Tapuz, a popular Israeli internet portal, first discovered the show on Star World and has been hooked ever since. She started the forum 'because there wasn't anyone in Israel to talk about it with.' Kaypuya has noticed a hike in interest in the forum this year, and some 200 registered members now share predictions, compare favorites and post links
Anat Tamir, 28, a human resource professional who lives in Tel Aviv, had been a lone fan of the show for three years, but now she regularly discusses the outcomes with friends. 'I feel less special now. I liked to be the only one who watched it.'
If the Tapuz forum can be a fair touchstone of Israeli taste, then Melinda Doolittle was the clear Israeli favorite. 'The final three were all favorites in the forum,' Kaypuya says, adding that they also liked the quirky Sanjaya Malakar, who is now a household name for his widely-publicized, unexpected staying power, and his unusual hairdos.
Of Doolittle's elimination, Kaypuya says that 'most people were shocked and upset. Surprisingly, some were shocked yet satisfied. One person blamed Simon [Cowell], because Simon said he wanted Melinda in the finale, and America loves to annoy Simon - look what they did with Sanjaya.' The beloved Malakar was panned for his lack of singing ability by Cowell, but fans kept him on the show for weeks on end.
IN ADDITION to Web forums, Erev Tov with Guy Pines, Israel's leading television entertainment show, sums up Idol events every week, contributing to the show's popularity. Israel Zohar, a senior correspondent for Pines, attributes the popularity of American Idol in Israel in part to Israelis' love for singing competitions.
'[American Idol] is good television. From the auditions, which are funnily edited, through the elimination stages through the finals. The songs are good, and of course, there's Simon Cowell, one of the funniest and most sarcastic guys around. Every time I cover the show, I use at least one of his quotes.'
Israel's version of American Idol, 'Kochav Nolad,' ('A Star is Born'), kicked off its fifth season this past Friday. Like American Idol, the show is a leading platform for breakthrough stars, like Ninet Tayeb, Shiri Maimon, and Harel Skaat, who all enjoy prolific careers in entertainment thanks to the program.
Kaypuya prefers American Idol over Kochav Nolad for its professionalism; its emphasis on voice quality rather than looks; and Simon, whose bluntness is unmatched among the Kochav Nolad judges.
Tamir agrees. '[Kochav Nolad] messes with your mind. They think it's not nice to eliminate people, so they bring them back. Beside I like Simon. He's amazing.'
DeDe Komisar, a grant writer and stage actress who made aliya to Jerusalem in September, actually discovered the show in Israel, not in America. She felt 'peer pressure' to watch it while rehearsing for a play in Jerusalem. Her fellow cast members, all American, kept talking about the show during rehearsals.
'I guess in the US there's so much other stuff on TV, and I had an aversion to mainstream, American pop stuff. I was only into indie stuff, but here it was - a way to connect to America, and American Idol is beyond huge.'
Komisar doesn't define herself as 'obsessed,' but admits that she has visited American Idol blogs and particularly likes the 'Vote for the Worst' website. For Passover her parents gave her, as an afikoman gift, the DVD of the 'Best and Worst of American Idol.'
But now that Melinda, her favorite, has been voted off, the show has lost its enchantment. 'I'm so pissed that Melinda got sent home! She could mop the floor with the other two! I'm disillusioned with the show and it's lost the magic for me at this point.'
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Greener pasteurs
Jerusalem Post, Weekend Magazine; May 17, 2007
Owned by some of Israel's most interesting personalities, goat and sheep farms are becoming increasingly diverse.
The people of Israel have a long history as shepherds. Many of our forefathers, among them Abraham, Moses and David were herders and the nurturing qualities needed for their profession stood them in good stead for leading the burgeoning Jewish nation.
Modern Israelis have continued in their footsteps. But as Israel becomes increasingly sophisticated gastronomically, consumers are favoring goats' and sheep's cheese over cows' milk produce. Unlike their bovine counterparts, most goats and sheep are free to roam and graze; antibiotics aren't - usually - a part of their diet; their cheese and milk contains lower lactose content, and their taste is unmistakably distinct.
As consumers have become more enthused, cheese makers have become more creative, and many new goat farms have opened around the country while others have considerably increased their range.
Shavuot is now on our doorstep and as Israelis prepare to mark the holiday with the traditional dairy foods, an unconventional and patriotic way to celebrate the holiday could be to visit farms and their boutique delicatessens for an authentic dairy experience grounded in the land of milk and honey.
The following is a partial list of select dairy farms in Israel for whom cheese making is its own Torah.
Eretz Zavat Halav U'Dvash, Moshav Nehalim
A favorite among locals and tourists, Eretz Zavat Halav U'Dvash is in Moshav Nehalim near Petah Tikva, about 15 minutes away from the airport. Ahhh... what a great place to land for brunch after a long flight, or on any morning for that matter. A colorful, lush garden adorned with a fish pond opens to an outdoor patio with sheep grazing nearby.
At his cafe, Aharon Markovich, who grew up on the religious-Zionist moshav, explained his decision to raise sheep rather than the more prevalent goats. 'Sheep milk doesn't have the heavy aroma of goat cheese. Cow's milk is flavorless,' says Markovich, quick to bring out a container of fresh sheep's milk to drink.
The taste and texture of the milk was indeed sweet and creamy, and the personable Markovich abides by the adage that rarer is better. Sheep produce about half the amount of milk that goats produce, and the results truly are exquisite.
The Markovich dairy produces 40 different kinds of cheeses: fresh, semi-hard, hard, and ripened, but Markovich gets annoyed when people ask him to categorize his cheeses according to well-known kinds, such as Camembert, Tomme or feta. While he has mostly taught himself traditional techniques, he refuses to bow to European customs, instead seeking to forge his own.
'I wanted to create an Israeli brand of cheese,' he said, hence the name of the dairy, which means 'land flowing with milk and honey.'
Markovich makes original cheeses using unorthodox ingredients: wine, fig leaves, rosemary, bay leaves, to name just a few, and of course, 'lots of love and soul.' At the morning buffet brunch he serves flavored cheese balls, breads, Greek salad, roasted peppers, marinated eggplant and spicy carrots, but the highlight is the opportunity to create a cheese platter from among the dozens of cheeses sold at the deli.
Given its city-edge locale, Eretz Zavat Halav U'Dvash is among the most urban-tinged dairies. Nevertheless, the atmosphere is quaint and relaxing, with Israeli background music mixing with bird chirping. To preserve the quiet, Friday brunch is closed to children under 12, to the dismay of some parents and the relief of others.
For the perfect dairy dessert, stop by next door at Neta's chocolate shop where gracious Neta offers samples of her handmade, uniquely flavored pralines.
Brunch: 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.; Deli: 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. (closed Shabbat and holidays). Kosher certificate. Tel: (03) 033-2979. www.2eat.co.il/eretz.
Zook Farm
Located near the Ela Valley not far from Beit Shemesh, the Zook Farm offers a taste of rustic Israel. Reaching the farm is an experience in and of itself. A kilometer long road leads to the picturesque, delightfully landscaped outdoor seating areas adorned with roses and vines. At the Zook Farm cafe (opened to the public on weekends), cheeses and homemade delicacies are served on red-and-white checkered picnic tablecloths that overlook the barns and bushy hills.
The Zook brothers, Yiftach and Tomer, moshav boys, are now at the helm of a fraternal food dynasty. Their other brother, culinary star Nir Zook, is the namesake of the famous Zook Compound in Jaffa, home to the exclusive Cordelia restaurant. The Zook Compound is the only venue aside from the Zook Farm where Zook cheeses are sold to the public.
A delightful brunch is NIS 100 per person; pricey, but it includes homemade wine and high-grade cheeses made from whole goat's milk: delicate Tzfatit, aged Roquefort and earthy Tomme cheese. Cheeses come with an array of dips and appetizers, including labane, feta cheese spread, eggplant in cream, artichokes, roasted peppers, fennel, ful, humous and tehina. Gingerbread and coffee cookies top it off.
Tel: 054-523-9117/8; Open Fri., Sat., and holidays: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.; http:// www.mitchatnim.co.il/mem/havat_tzuk/
Goat Path
A new addition to the goat farm landscape of Israel, Goat Path in Tal Shahar was founded about a year ago by the Saban and Einy families, who make a large variety of whole milk goat's cheeses: Gouda, cheddar, Emmental, labane, yogurts and yogurt drinks. A lovely country cafe set up in a wooden cabin opens on weekends. Visitors are welcome to visit the large goat pens and tour the attraction-rich area.
Fri. and holiday eves: 9 a.m. to 2 p.m; Sat. and holidays: 9 a.m.-6 p.m; Sun. to Thurs. (limited menu): 8 a.m. to 3 p.m.; Tel: 052-258-9900; (08) 949-5964.
Kornmehl Farm
Located in the northern Negev, overlooking ancient farm ruins, the Kornmehl Farm was founded in 1997 by husband-and-wife team Anat and Daniel Kornmehl, both graduates of the Agricultural Science department at the Hebrew University. Daniel studied cheesemaking in both France and Israel, and the farm employs the French cheesemaking tradition while preserving the unique flavors of the Israeli desert, where the goats graze.
Cheese varieties include their version of Tomme, Camembert and Brie. Visitors are welcome to watch the afternoon milking at 4:30 and learn about the cheese-making process. Kornmehl cheeses are now sold in gourmet food shops in the center of the country (try Buy the Way in Tzomet Ra'anana).
Cheeses sold daily 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Tel: (08) 655-5140, 052-278-8051.
Jerusalem hills
A fixture in the Israel cheesemaking community with his long, white beard, Shai Seltzer is certainly a candidate for the godfather of modern Israeli goat-cheese making. This Israeli veteran and award-winning cheesemaker has been raising goats for the past 32 years. Following ancient tradition, the gourmet cheeses are aged in a dark cave, and they are sold only on-site at his base in the Sataf nature reserve, only on weekends, 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Tel: (02) 533-3748.
www.goat-cheese.co.il/
If you're in this region, you can also pop into the Har Haruah goats' cheese farm, just behind Abu Ghosh. Despite the fact that they no longer have a restaurant, Dalia and Haim Himelfarb now package their 'pundak' in a picnic basket filled with a platter of cheeses, salad, olives, bread, and pita. Tel: (02) 534-5660. Thurs: 7 p.m, to 12 midnight; Fri. and holiday eves: 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.; Sat. and holidays: 10 a.m. to 7 p.m.; or by appointment. www.harharuach.com
Owned by some of Israel's most interesting personalities, goat and sheep farms are becoming increasingly diverse.
The people of Israel have a long history as shepherds. Many of our forefathers, among them Abraham, Moses and David were herders and the nurturing qualities needed for their profession stood them in good stead for leading the burgeoning Jewish nation.
Modern Israelis have continued in their footsteps. But as Israel becomes increasingly sophisticated gastronomically, consumers are favoring goats' and sheep's cheese over cows' milk produce. Unlike their bovine counterparts, most goats and sheep are free to roam and graze; antibiotics aren't - usually - a part of their diet; their cheese and milk contains lower lactose content, and their taste is unmistakably distinct.
As consumers have become more enthused, cheese makers have become more creative, and many new goat farms have opened around the country while others have considerably increased their range.
Shavuot is now on our doorstep and as Israelis prepare to mark the holiday with the traditional dairy foods, an unconventional and patriotic way to celebrate the holiday could be to visit farms and their boutique delicatessens for an authentic dairy experience grounded in the land of milk and honey.
The following is a partial list of select dairy farms in Israel for whom cheese making is its own Torah.
Eretz Zavat Halav U'Dvash, Moshav Nehalim
A favorite among locals and tourists, Eretz Zavat Halav U'Dvash is in Moshav Nehalim near Petah Tikva, about 15 minutes away from the airport. Ahhh... what a great place to land for brunch after a long flight, or on any morning for that matter. A colorful, lush garden adorned with a fish pond opens to an outdoor patio with sheep grazing nearby.
At his cafe, Aharon Markovich, who grew up on the religious-Zionist moshav, explained his decision to raise sheep rather than the more prevalent goats. 'Sheep milk doesn't have the heavy aroma of goat cheese. Cow's milk is flavorless,' says Markovich, quick to bring out a container of fresh sheep's milk to drink.
The taste and texture of the milk was indeed sweet and creamy, and the personable Markovich abides by the adage that rarer is better. Sheep produce about half the amount of milk that goats produce, and the results truly are exquisite.
The Markovich dairy produces 40 different kinds of cheeses: fresh, semi-hard, hard, and ripened, but Markovich gets annoyed when people ask him to categorize his cheeses according to well-known kinds, such as Camembert, Tomme or feta. While he has mostly taught himself traditional techniques, he refuses to bow to European customs, instead seeking to forge his own.
'I wanted to create an Israeli brand of cheese,' he said, hence the name of the dairy, which means 'land flowing with milk and honey.'
Markovich makes original cheeses using unorthodox ingredients: wine, fig leaves, rosemary, bay leaves, to name just a few, and of course, 'lots of love and soul.' At the morning buffet brunch he serves flavored cheese balls, breads, Greek salad, roasted peppers, marinated eggplant and spicy carrots, but the highlight is the opportunity to create a cheese platter from among the dozens of cheeses sold at the deli.
Given its city-edge locale, Eretz Zavat Halav U'Dvash is among the most urban-tinged dairies. Nevertheless, the atmosphere is quaint and relaxing, with Israeli background music mixing with bird chirping. To preserve the quiet, Friday brunch is closed to children under 12, to the dismay of some parents and the relief of others.
For the perfect dairy dessert, stop by next door at Neta's chocolate shop where gracious Neta offers samples of her handmade, uniquely flavored pralines.
Brunch: 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.; Deli: 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. (closed Shabbat and holidays). Kosher certificate. Tel: (03) 033-2979. www.2eat.co.il/eretz.
Zook Farm
Located near the Ela Valley not far from Beit Shemesh, the Zook Farm offers a taste of rustic Israel. Reaching the farm is an experience in and of itself. A kilometer long road leads to the picturesque, delightfully landscaped outdoor seating areas adorned with roses and vines. At the Zook Farm cafe (opened to the public on weekends), cheeses and homemade delicacies are served on red-and-white checkered picnic tablecloths that overlook the barns and bushy hills.
The Zook brothers, Yiftach and Tomer, moshav boys, are now at the helm of a fraternal food dynasty. Their other brother, culinary star Nir Zook, is the namesake of the famous Zook Compound in Jaffa, home to the exclusive Cordelia restaurant. The Zook Compound is the only venue aside from the Zook Farm where Zook cheeses are sold to the public.
A delightful brunch is NIS 100 per person; pricey, but it includes homemade wine and high-grade cheeses made from whole goat's milk: delicate Tzfatit, aged Roquefort and earthy Tomme cheese. Cheeses come with an array of dips and appetizers, including labane, feta cheese spread, eggplant in cream, artichokes, roasted peppers, fennel, ful, humous and tehina. Gingerbread and coffee cookies top it off.
Tel: 054-523-9117/8; Open Fri., Sat., and holidays: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.; http:// www.mitchatnim.co.il/mem/havat_tzuk/
Goat Path
A new addition to the goat farm landscape of Israel, Goat Path in Tal Shahar was founded about a year ago by the Saban and Einy families, who make a large variety of whole milk goat's cheeses: Gouda, cheddar, Emmental, labane, yogurts and yogurt drinks. A lovely country cafe set up in a wooden cabin opens on weekends. Visitors are welcome to visit the large goat pens and tour the attraction-rich area.
Fri. and holiday eves: 9 a.m. to 2 p.m; Sat. and holidays: 9 a.m.-6 p.m; Sun. to Thurs. (limited menu): 8 a.m. to 3 p.m.; Tel: 052-258-9900; (08) 949-5964.
Kornmehl Farm
Located in the northern Negev, overlooking ancient farm ruins, the Kornmehl Farm was founded in 1997 by husband-and-wife team Anat and Daniel Kornmehl, both graduates of the Agricultural Science department at the Hebrew University. Daniel studied cheesemaking in both France and Israel, and the farm employs the French cheesemaking tradition while preserving the unique flavors of the Israeli desert, where the goats graze.
Cheese varieties include their version of Tomme, Camembert and Brie. Visitors are welcome to watch the afternoon milking at 4:30 and learn about the cheese-making process. Kornmehl cheeses are now sold in gourmet food shops in the center of the country (try Buy the Way in Tzomet Ra'anana).
Cheeses sold daily 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Tel: (08) 655-5140, 052-278-8051.
Jerusalem hills
A fixture in the Israel cheesemaking community with his long, white beard, Shai Seltzer is certainly a candidate for the godfather of modern Israeli goat-cheese making. This Israeli veteran and award-winning cheesemaker has been raising goats for the past 32 years. Following ancient tradition, the gourmet cheeses are aged in a dark cave, and they are sold only on-site at his base in the Sataf nature reserve, only on weekends, 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Tel: (02) 533-3748.
www.goat-cheese.co.il/
If you're in this region, you can also pop into the Har Haruah goats' cheese farm, just behind Abu Ghosh. Despite the fact that they no longer have a restaurant, Dalia and Haim Himelfarb now package their 'pundak' in a picnic basket filled with a platter of cheeses, salad, olives, bread, and pita. Tel: (02) 534-5660. Thurs: 7 p.m, to 12 midnight; Fri. and holiday eves: 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.; Sat. and holidays: 10 a.m. to 7 p.m.; or by appointment. www.harharuach.com
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