Jerusalem Post, Weekend Magazine; May 22, 2008
Sleepy Nahariya's slogan promises utopia for fun lovers. While this is surely debatable, the Ida chef's restaurant certainly provides a culinary retreat
The sign greeting visitors at the main entrance of Nahariya humorously reads: "Nahariya-Resort for Fun Lovers." Judging from its Hebrew counterpart below (L'ohavim et ha'chayim), I think they meant: "Naharyia - For People Who Love the Good Life."
Driving further down HaGe'aton Boulevard, it's difficult to understand at first glance how Nahariya earned its poorly translated slogan. The train station on the left consists of drab, gray block buildings; the street is lined with shabby discount clothing stores, banks, and falafel joints.
But as I drove up towards the beach to Ida's Restaurant, the street turned quieter, picturesque, and more appropriate to a resort town. Ida's Restaurant, the only chef restaurant in the city, has definitely helped Nahariya become a place for "fun lovers" of good food.
Ida is situated on pedigree real-estate, the home of the city's first mayor, Gershon Tatz. The owners paid tribute to the Tatz family by naming the restaurant after his wife, Ida, and preserving the structure of the home but renovating it with a modern touch.
Windows with open shutters are draped with sturdy, peach-colored curtains. Chocolate-colored wallpaper with abstracted flowers graces the walls. Chandeliers of ruffled glass are unecessary in daytime - enough air and sun seeps through the windows.
The corridor leading to the original front door (where the original mailbox and doorbell have been preserved) now serves as a pantry.
The restaurant was empty except for four lively English-speaking women who reminded me of The Golden Girls. I nestled near the window in a corner room that used to be the Tatz daughter's bedroom and opened the menu.
Apparently, Nahariya suffers from lack of proof readers. The English menu was titled "manu," and veal brain was spelt "veal brian," etc.. Errors aside, the content of the menu and descriptions of the dishes proved enticing and well thought-out.
Cordon-Bleu trained chef, Shay Shmueli, 33, has blended French and Mediterranean cuisine with exotic touches. For the adventurous, Ida offers samplings of four main courses and nearly all the appetizers for NIS 150 per person (price varies).
Wines are listed not according to region, but by type, and include detailed descriptions of the wine's properties, origins, and uses.
I forgot about all spelling mistakes as soon as I tried the salmon tartar served with herbed lemon cream and tobiko (NIS 35). Generous with parsley and ginger and rich in olive oil, the dish was absolutely delicious. The hinary tofu stuffed with lamb (NIS 35) did not excite me as much as the previous appetizers, but it satisfied. Modeled after the Iraqi kubeh, the chef experimented with an Eastern- inspired tofu crust in lieu of bulgur. The filling of ground lamb and pinenuts made the grade, but the rubbery wrap didn't work for me.
For the main course, the friendly and efficient waitress recommended pan-fried scallops with sweet potato puree and ginger sauce (NIS 110). The dish is a popular alternative to shrimp for the scallops' health value: low in fat and cholesterol free. As a former kosher eater, I usually shy away from the mollusk family, but I gave it a go. Blame it on its healthiness, but the scallop meat was rather tasteless; the creamy puree valorously compensated for its lack of color, flavor, and fat.
Certainly the best dish of the day - and one of my most memorable chicken dishes - was the grilled chicken served with herb casserole (NIS 68). The dish consisted of grilled strips of chicken served on a bed of chickpeas and Persian herbs and rice - a nod to the chef's Persian roots. The generous and aromatic spicing of leek, coriander, dill and Persian lemon was so flavorful that I couldn't stop eating it despite feeling full.
The desserts tasting platter (NIS 65) further attested to the chef's proficiency, although I would recommend going with a single dish of the cheesecake or the Persian rice pudding. The malabi and creme brulee, while good, were not particularly outstanding.
After the meal I took to the beach promenade to walk-off the filling gourmet meal. As I passed by the unpopulated and seemingly unpolluted I felt like I was living the city's slogan.
HaGe'aton Boulevard 48; 04-951-3444; Hours: 12 pm to midnight. Not Kosher.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
Something to hoot about
Jerusalem Post, Metro; May 16, 2008
Click here for original
A franchise of the popular American restaurant chain Hooters is located in Netanya, and the husband-and-wife owners couldn't be more proud of their waitress daughter
For most people, the Hooters restaurant chain immediately conjures up images of all-American blondes with ample cleavage carrying pitchers of beer and chicken wings, or rambunctious men cheering on sports teams. Point in case, the Hooters company Web site characterizes Hooters as "a neighborhood place, not a typical family restaurant," with 68 percent of its clientele male, mostly between age 25 to 54. But it seems that the Israeli franchise owners have re-fashioned the local Hooters as an atypical family restaurant - in more ways than one.
Ofer Ahiraz, a gray-haired 48-year-old, wears a finely-pressed white button-down shirt and flashes a warm, all-around-good-guy smile. He and his wife Ilana live with their three children, ages 17 to 22, in Givatayim. They opened the Hooters franchise last November, putting Israel on the list of over 40 nations that have imported the American icon. Ilana, also 48, is not a waitress, although her admiration for the Hooters girls is clear - especially since the Ahirazes' daughter, Gal, works as head waitress and trainer. Like any good Jewish parents, the Ahirazes sent their eldest daughter to college - at Hooters University in Atlanta, Georgia, where Gal studied for three months to learn the principles behind the Hooters mystique.
Ofer and Ilana Ahiraz first fell in love with the chain on a visit to the United States 13 years ago. The atmosphere, food and beer, they say, brought them back to Hooters on subsequent visits to the US. "Today, from what I see in the US, it caters to families, kids - we have a kids menu," says Ofer. "In the US, they have biker night - that doesn't exist in Israel." Ofer and Ilana both left their careers (he worked as a communications specialist, she was a nurse for 25 years) to bring their Hooters dream to Israel.
While liberal Tel Aviv might seem like a natural home for the busty restaurant concept, the couple took a chance, opening premises in the relatively new Yachin industrial zone in Netanya. The name "Poleg, Netanya" is printed on the waitresses' low-cut Hooters tank tops, right underneath the chain's owl logo. Hooters of America, Inc. acknowledges that many people consider "hooters" slang for "breasts," but its Web site claims that Hooters "uses an owl theme... to allow debate."
The Ahirazes have adapted the chain's food and atmosphere to suit Israeli tastes and mentalities. They replaced Hooters' crab, pork and oyster dishes with more salads and grilled meats, but they still serve up world-famous Hooters chicken wings, along with Philly steak and chicken burgers. Wings are made with the time-tested Hooters buttery-vinaigrette hot sauce and come in five levels of spiciness. A roll of paper towels is wisely placed on each table so diners can wipe the butter off their hands and mouths after gorging on the crispy wings. The decor suits the first part of the restaurant's slogan, "delightfully tacky," although with its clean lines and hi- techy overtones, the Israeli Hooters comes across as pretty refined for a Hooters joint. A bright Hooters sign flashes flamboyantly outside and passers-by can ogle the restaurant owl-eyed through the plate-glass windows.
When Metro visited, the restaurant was about three-quarters full by 11 p.m. with groups of young, spiky-haired men; a few couples; a birthday party of some 30 people; a group of amateur race-car drivers for whom a late dinner at Hooters is a weekly ritual; and a group of rowdy American guys (the kind one would expect to find at a US Hooters) who sat in an orange booth underneath a sign that read "Caution: Blondes Thinking." Some men had their eyes on the Maccabi game, broadcast on monitors positioned throughout the restaurant, while rock music played at a level that couldn't compete with the Americans' "yee-hahs."
Of course, Hooters waitresses strutted back and forth in their trademark sneakers and tight lycra tops and tiny orange shorts over nude tights - outfits that have been bemoaned as objectifying women, but which Ilana Ahiraz shrugs off as "active wear."
"I don't see anything anti-feminist," says the soft-spoken Ilana, with lack of outward enthusiasm that might get a Hooters girl fired on the spot. But her daughter, Gal, offers up a little more bubbly-ness.
"It's not a customer, it's a guest," says the cute, down-to-earth Hooters Gal.
Both she and her mother say the main criteria in waitress recruits are "the smile and good work ethic." Gal warmly remembers her parents bringing back Hooters T-shirts and memorabilia from their trips to the US, and she wholeheartedly approves of their ambition.
Most of the waitresses working boasted an Israeli "girl next door" look - long, dark, hair and brown eyes. Not all of their measurements lived up to those of the picture-perfect Hooters calendar girls. Could hiring waitresses with imperfect waistlines be a purposeful tactic to reduce the guilt women will no doubt feel upon eating the fattening wings?
Waitress Sivan, 20, who was working her first shift, was intrigued by the prospect of becoming a Hooters girl. "I just got out of the army and I decided to go to Hooters," Sivan told Metro, adding that she saw work as a Hooters girl as "something different" from being a waitress.
When a country-tinged rock song came on, the waitresses broke out into a square dance, which was a real hoot. It looked more like the hora, and the Hooters girls giggled self-consciously throughout. But the group of Americans, who got a front-seat view from their booth, clearly enjoyed the performance. "They need to do that more with more women," said Norman, a medical student at Ben-Gurion University's program for overseas students, who was celebrating his birthday. He and his friends had been planning the trip from Beersheba to Hooters for three months.
But looks, said Norman, are not everything. "It's not a strip club. They're attractive, friendly. She cut the wings for me and licked her fingers after - what more do you want?" His wife, by the way, is a Hooters fan, and she approved of the outing.
Netanya resident David Barak, a well-known hip-hop choreographer, sat quietly eating wings and drinking beer. "It'll never be a real guy's place," he commented, adding that the fleshy atmosphere wasn't "pure enough."
Barak declined to comment on the dancing, but said that an American Hooters girl who came to Israel to train the Israeli waitresses had admitted to him that the Israeli branch could never be a "real Hooters."
But how do you know whose Hooters are real and whose aren't? Metro might have to go to Hooters U to find the answer to that one.
Click here for original
A franchise of the popular American restaurant chain Hooters is located in Netanya, and the husband-and-wife owners couldn't be more proud of their waitress daughter
For most people, the Hooters restaurant chain immediately conjures up images of all-American blondes with ample cleavage carrying pitchers of beer and chicken wings, or rambunctious men cheering on sports teams. Point in case, the Hooters company Web site characterizes Hooters as "a neighborhood place, not a typical family restaurant," with 68 percent of its clientele male, mostly between age 25 to 54. But it seems that the Israeli franchise owners have re-fashioned the local Hooters as an atypical family restaurant - in more ways than one.
Ofer Ahiraz, a gray-haired 48-year-old, wears a finely-pressed white button-down shirt and flashes a warm, all-around-good-guy smile. He and his wife Ilana live with their three children, ages 17 to 22, in Givatayim. They opened the Hooters franchise last November, putting Israel on the list of over 40 nations that have imported the American icon. Ilana, also 48, is not a waitress, although her admiration for the Hooters girls is clear - especially since the Ahirazes' daughter, Gal, works as head waitress and trainer. Like any good Jewish parents, the Ahirazes sent their eldest daughter to college - at Hooters University in Atlanta, Georgia, where Gal studied for three months to learn the principles behind the Hooters mystique.
Ofer and Ilana Ahiraz first fell in love with the chain on a visit to the United States 13 years ago. The atmosphere, food and beer, they say, brought them back to Hooters on subsequent visits to the US. "Today, from what I see in the US, it caters to families, kids - we have a kids menu," says Ofer. "In the US, they have biker night - that doesn't exist in Israel." Ofer and Ilana both left their careers (he worked as a communications specialist, she was a nurse for 25 years) to bring their Hooters dream to Israel.
While liberal Tel Aviv might seem like a natural home for the busty restaurant concept, the couple took a chance, opening premises in the relatively new Yachin industrial zone in Netanya. The name "Poleg, Netanya" is printed on the waitresses' low-cut Hooters tank tops, right underneath the chain's owl logo. Hooters of America, Inc. acknowledges that many people consider "hooters" slang for "breasts," but its Web site claims that Hooters "uses an owl theme... to allow debate."
The Ahirazes have adapted the chain's food and atmosphere to suit Israeli tastes and mentalities. They replaced Hooters' crab, pork and oyster dishes with more salads and grilled meats, but they still serve up world-famous Hooters chicken wings, along with Philly steak and chicken burgers. Wings are made with the time-tested Hooters buttery-vinaigrette hot sauce and come in five levels of spiciness. A roll of paper towels is wisely placed on each table so diners can wipe the butter off their hands and mouths after gorging on the crispy wings. The decor suits the first part of the restaurant's slogan, "delightfully tacky," although with its clean lines and hi- techy overtones, the Israeli Hooters comes across as pretty refined for a Hooters joint. A bright Hooters sign flashes flamboyantly outside and passers-by can ogle the restaurant owl-eyed through the plate-glass windows.
When Metro visited, the restaurant was about three-quarters full by 11 p.m. with groups of young, spiky-haired men; a few couples; a birthday party of some 30 people; a group of amateur race-car drivers for whom a late dinner at Hooters is a weekly ritual; and a group of rowdy American guys (the kind one would expect to find at a US Hooters) who sat in an orange booth underneath a sign that read "Caution: Blondes Thinking." Some men had their eyes on the Maccabi game, broadcast on monitors positioned throughout the restaurant, while rock music played at a level that couldn't compete with the Americans' "yee-hahs."
Of course, Hooters waitresses strutted back and forth in their trademark sneakers and tight lycra tops and tiny orange shorts over nude tights - outfits that have been bemoaned as objectifying women, but which Ilana Ahiraz shrugs off as "active wear."
"I don't see anything anti-feminist," says the soft-spoken Ilana, with lack of outward enthusiasm that might get a Hooters girl fired on the spot. But her daughter, Gal, offers up a little more bubbly-ness.
"It's not a customer, it's a guest," says the cute, down-to-earth Hooters Gal.
Both she and her mother say the main criteria in waitress recruits are "the smile and good work ethic." Gal warmly remembers her parents bringing back Hooters T-shirts and memorabilia from their trips to the US, and she wholeheartedly approves of their ambition.
Most of the waitresses working boasted an Israeli "girl next door" look - long, dark, hair and brown eyes. Not all of their measurements lived up to those of the picture-perfect Hooters calendar girls. Could hiring waitresses with imperfect waistlines be a purposeful tactic to reduce the guilt women will no doubt feel upon eating the fattening wings?
Waitress Sivan, 20, who was working her first shift, was intrigued by the prospect of becoming a Hooters girl. "I just got out of the army and I decided to go to Hooters," Sivan told Metro, adding that she saw work as a Hooters girl as "something different" from being a waitress.
When a country-tinged rock song came on, the waitresses broke out into a square dance, which was a real hoot. It looked more like the hora, and the Hooters girls giggled self-consciously throughout. But the group of Americans, who got a front-seat view from their booth, clearly enjoyed the performance. "They need to do that more with more women," said Norman, a medical student at Ben-Gurion University's program for overseas students, who was celebrating his birthday. He and his friends had been planning the trip from Beersheba to Hooters for three months.
But looks, said Norman, are not everything. "It's not a strip club. They're attractive, friendly. She cut the wings for me and licked her fingers after - what more do you want?" His wife, by the way, is a Hooters fan, and she approved of the outing.
Netanya resident David Barak, a well-known hip-hop choreographer, sat quietly eating wings and drinking beer. "It'll never be a real guy's place," he commented, adding that the fleshy atmosphere wasn't "pure enough."
Barak declined to comment on the dancing, but said that an American Hooters girl who came to Israel to train the Israeli waitresses had admitted to him that the Israeli branch could never be a "real Hooters."
But how do you know whose Hooters are real and whose aren't? Metro might have to go to Hooters U to find the answer to that one.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
‘The Comfort Girls’ satisfy in three part harmony
Jewish Journal, May 8, 2008
Click here for original
The desert air was balmy and hot. The almost-full moon hung over palm trees and the fireflies glittered amid a spotlight's beam. More than 1,000 people sat on the blanketed stone bleachers of the outdoor amphitheater at Mineral Beach for the Passover Dead Sea Music Festival, waiting patiently for the Israeli trio, HaBanot Nechama (translated as "Comfort Girls"), to hit the stage.
The crowd occupied themselves with kosher-for-Passover pizza and crepes but got grumpy when the trio delayed for more than a half-hour. Finally, the three "girls" walked onto the stage, two barefoot, one in sandals: Yael Deckelbaum, with her dirty-blonde hair and green eyes; Karolina, (who goes by one name only), with her unmistakable afro; and Dana Adini, with long brown waves that look like dreads-in-formation.
As soon as their angelic harmonies opened the show with the lyrics: "Lovers/ Don't be afraid/ I have come to save you from the pain," the crowd was soothed. The sound matched the surroundings -- natural, organic, earthy, relaxing and glam-free.
On May 10, HaBanot Nechama will perform at their most glamorous venue yet -- the Kodak Theatre -- in the gala finale of the "Let My People Sing" music festival celebrating Israel's 60th anniversary. These Israeli natives are sure to bring raw soulful simplicity and natural girl power to a stage known for hosting Hollywood's most primped affairs. They've been likened to the Indigo Girls, Crosby Stills and Nash, and even the Dixie Chicks.
Embarking on their first North American tour, with stops at Radio City Music Hall and the Highline Ballroom in New York and at the Venetian Resort Hotel Casino in Las Vegas, HaBanot Nechama has come a long way from that day in 2004 when, at a Tel Aviv clothing boutique, the then-struggling artists had one of the most important girl-talks of their careers.
"I came to Dana very desperate," related singer-songwriter Yael Deckelbaum during her first interview with a non-Israeli publication. "Karolina came desperate. About our lives, not making it, frustrations at being poor musicians, not being acknowledged, not having money. In that moment was a spark. The first spark."
Curled up in a chair in her bohemian-style apartment in Jaffa, wearing Capri pants and a cotton tank and sans make-up, Deckelbaum spoke about the making-of-the-band on behalf of the trio in her fluent, tad-rusty English. She inherited the language and love for music from her father, a Canadian-Israeli who led a country-folk band, The Taverners, in her hometown of Jerusalem.
It's difficult these days to interview the girls together. In addition to preparing for the tour, they're busy developing their now-successful solo careers. Deckelbaum is finishing her first solo album, Karolina is working on her second and Adini's acting career is soaring, with a starring role as an injured ballet dancer in a new Israeli prime-time television show, "Al Ktzot Ha'etzbaot" (On the Tip of the Fingers).
They owe much of their current success to those inchoate nights in one another's living rooms, when, unbeknownst to them, they were forming a new band by spontaneously, intuitively pitching harmonies for the others' songs.
"We were nourishing each other with each other," Deckelbaum said. "I got a lot of inspiration, so I started writing songs that grew out of this inspiration -- and we started writing some stuff together and jamming a lot. Our meetings didn't feel like work. It felt like a support group."
The name of the band does not necessarily apply to their effect on audiences, but on themselves.
"Karolina brought up the name when we were sitting in the room," Deckelbaum said. "She said, 'I'm feeling such a big comfort. Maybe we should call ourselves Nechama [Comfort].' A bell went off, and that's what it is."
Karolina, born Keren Karolina Avratz in Eilat, contributed her version of the story over the phone from her Tel Aviv apartment.
"The fourth girl is named Nechama," she said. "She's the influence. Sometimes I feel it's another lady -- that there is another woman coming out because our voices come so together, like glue."
The girls debuted on stage as a trio about four and a half years ago with three songs at an acoustic night the Jah-Pan club in the artsy Florentine neighborhood in south Tel Aviv.
"It was very clean, no ego, very special and powerful and full of love," Deckelbaum said. "The crowd went mad. We were each very good on our own -- the crowd enjoyed us very much -- so when the three of us got together, it was three times stronger."
HaBanot Nechama continued to perform regularly, and without formal musical training, the naturally talented singers relied much on intuition, trial and error, and audience call/response to perfect the act. By the time they went into the studio to record an album independently they had already built up a loyal following.
Toward the end of the recording process, they caught the attention of veteran Israeli manager Asher Bitansky, who signed them on his Labeleh record label.
"They are three individual creative talents that managed to collaborate in such a wonderful way and create a tone of music, folk appearance that is rare not only in Israel but around the world," said Bitansky, who is responsible for booking their shows in the United States. "I didn't have to knock on too many doors to make it happen. All I had to do was introduce them, and the rest was done by the music."
The eponymous album went platinum in Israel only weeks after its release in August 2007.
Its third song, "So Far," dominated the Israeli charts, much to Karolina's surprise. "I remember how insecure she was about it," Deckelbaum said, "and how Dana and I thought: 'Wow-this is amazing.' Then we sat there and tried to harmonize it."
In writing the song, Karolina "had a conversation between my heart and God, and I explained the spirit of what I'm feeling. Whatever I did, I didn't feel good. What's going on? Even when life is amazing I feel bad. People smile at me, I don't smile back.... Sometimes you don't know anything about life and yourself, and that's OK."
At the time, Karolina had good reason to smile. Her own band, Funset, was taking off with a sound she likes to call "ragga pumpkin" for its groovy eclecticism.
The album "HaBanot Nechama" reflects the ups-and-downs of art-in-process, the tension between mundane struggles and lofty ambition. In "Ever," Karolina sings of waking up in the morning wondering why "the sun is rising and my soul so far behind." In "Lies," Adini prays for "days like this when I'm not scared to be who I am true." The girls elevate each other's lyrics with funky rhythms, acoustic melodies, musical rounds and catchy harmonies.
Today, the girls don't need comfort for lack of success, but for the pressures that accompany success -- managing their schedule and contracts and balancing their separate careers with the needs of the group. They are discussing a second album, and it remains to be heard how the shift in their careers will affect their synergy.
"Success is not what gets you out of desperation," Deckelbaum said. "It's like falling in love, and now we are at the point in which we have to work harder to keep things on the right track."
Deckelbaum and Karolina are in tune about their future as a band.
"I can say, when you have success it can bring shaky moods to the band," Karolina said. "I see it in other bands, too. But I think the girls and I know why we are together, so I'm not worried. I feel like we can do it again and feel the comfort."
Click here for original
The desert air was balmy and hot. The almost-full moon hung over palm trees and the fireflies glittered amid a spotlight's beam. More than 1,000 people sat on the blanketed stone bleachers of the outdoor amphitheater at Mineral Beach for the Passover Dead Sea Music Festival, waiting patiently for the Israeli trio, HaBanot Nechama (translated as "Comfort Girls"), to hit the stage.
The crowd occupied themselves with kosher-for-Passover pizza and crepes but got grumpy when the trio delayed for more than a half-hour. Finally, the three "girls" walked onto the stage, two barefoot, one in sandals: Yael Deckelbaum, with her dirty-blonde hair and green eyes; Karolina, (who goes by one name only), with her unmistakable afro; and Dana Adini, with long brown waves that look like dreads-in-formation.
As soon as their angelic harmonies opened the show with the lyrics: "Lovers/ Don't be afraid/ I have come to save you from the pain," the crowd was soothed. The sound matched the surroundings -- natural, organic, earthy, relaxing and glam-free.
On May 10, HaBanot Nechama will perform at their most glamorous venue yet -- the Kodak Theatre -- in the gala finale of the "Let My People Sing" music festival celebrating Israel's 60th anniversary. These Israeli natives are sure to bring raw soulful simplicity and natural girl power to a stage known for hosting Hollywood's most primped affairs. They've been likened to the Indigo Girls, Crosby Stills and Nash, and even the Dixie Chicks.
Embarking on their first North American tour, with stops at Radio City Music Hall and the Highline Ballroom in New York and at the Venetian Resort Hotel Casino in Las Vegas, HaBanot Nechama has come a long way from that day in 2004 when, at a Tel Aviv clothing boutique, the then-struggling artists had one of the most important girl-talks of their careers.
"I came to Dana very desperate," related singer-songwriter Yael Deckelbaum during her first interview with a non-Israeli publication. "Karolina came desperate. About our lives, not making it, frustrations at being poor musicians, not being acknowledged, not having money. In that moment was a spark. The first spark."
Curled up in a chair in her bohemian-style apartment in Jaffa, wearing Capri pants and a cotton tank and sans make-up, Deckelbaum spoke about the making-of-the-band on behalf of the trio in her fluent, tad-rusty English. She inherited the language and love for music from her father, a Canadian-Israeli who led a country-folk band, The Taverners, in her hometown of Jerusalem.
It's difficult these days to interview the girls together. In addition to preparing for the tour, they're busy developing their now-successful solo careers. Deckelbaum is finishing her first solo album, Karolina is working on her second and Adini's acting career is soaring, with a starring role as an injured ballet dancer in a new Israeli prime-time television show, "Al Ktzot Ha'etzbaot" (On the Tip of the Fingers).
They owe much of their current success to those inchoate nights in one another's living rooms, when, unbeknownst to them, they were forming a new band by spontaneously, intuitively pitching harmonies for the others' songs.
"We were nourishing each other with each other," Deckelbaum said. "I got a lot of inspiration, so I started writing songs that grew out of this inspiration -- and we started writing some stuff together and jamming a lot. Our meetings didn't feel like work. It felt like a support group."
The name of the band does not necessarily apply to their effect on audiences, but on themselves.
"Karolina brought up the name when we were sitting in the room," Deckelbaum said. "She said, 'I'm feeling such a big comfort. Maybe we should call ourselves Nechama [Comfort].' A bell went off, and that's what it is."
Karolina, born Keren Karolina Avratz in Eilat, contributed her version of the story over the phone from her Tel Aviv apartment.
"The fourth girl is named Nechama," she said. "She's the influence. Sometimes I feel it's another lady -- that there is another woman coming out because our voices come so together, like glue."
The girls debuted on stage as a trio about four and a half years ago with three songs at an acoustic night the Jah-Pan club in the artsy Florentine neighborhood in south Tel Aviv.
"It was very clean, no ego, very special and powerful and full of love," Deckelbaum said. "The crowd went mad. We were each very good on our own -- the crowd enjoyed us very much -- so when the three of us got together, it was three times stronger."
HaBanot Nechama continued to perform regularly, and without formal musical training, the naturally talented singers relied much on intuition, trial and error, and audience call/response to perfect the act. By the time they went into the studio to record an album independently they had already built up a loyal following.
Toward the end of the recording process, they caught the attention of veteran Israeli manager Asher Bitansky, who signed them on his Labeleh record label.
"They are three individual creative talents that managed to collaborate in such a wonderful way and create a tone of music, folk appearance that is rare not only in Israel but around the world," said Bitansky, who is responsible for booking their shows in the United States. "I didn't have to knock on too many doors to make it happen. All I had to do was introduce them, and the rest was done by the music."
The eponymous album went platinum in Israel only weeks after its release in August 2007.
Its third song, "So Far," dominated the Israeli charts, much to Karolina's surprise. "I remember how insecure she was about it," Deckelbaum said, "and how Dana and I thought: 'Wow-this is amazing.' Then we sat there and tried to harmonize it."
In writing the song, Karolina "had a conversation between my heart and God, and I explained the spirit of what I'm feeling. Whatever I did, I didn't feel good. What's going on? Even when life is amazing I feel bad. People smile at me, I don't smile back.... Sometimes you don't know anything about life and yourself, and that's OK."
At the time, Karolina had good reason to smile. Her own band, Funset, was taking off with a sound she likes to call "ragga pumpkin" for its groovy eclecticism.
The album "HaBanot Nechama" reflects the ups-and-downs of art-in-process, the tension between mundane struggles and lofty ambition. In "Ever," Karolina sings of waking up in the morning wondering why "the sun is rising and my soul so far behind." In "Lies," Adini prays for "days like this when I'm not scared to be who I am true." The girls elevate each other's lyrics with funky rhythms, acoustic melodies, musical rounds and catchy harmonies.
Today, the girls don't need comfort for lack of success, but for the pressures that accompany success -- managing their schedule and contracts and balancing their separate careers with the needs of the group. They are discussing a second album, and it remains to be heard how the shift in their careers will affect their synergy.
"Success is not what gets you out of desperation," Deckelbaum said. "It's like falling in love, and now we are at the point in which we have to work harder to keep things on the right track."
Deckelbaum and Karolina are in tune about their future as a band.
"I can say, when you have success it can bring shaky moods to the band," Karolina said. "I see it in other bands, too. But I think the girls and I know why we are together, so I'm not worried. I feel like we can do it again and feel the comfort."
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Molten mozzarella (restaurant review)
Jerusalem Post, Weekend Magazine; May 1, 2008
Iceberg Vulcano, located in Tel Aviv's new port, offers boutique pizza at high-street prices
The Iceberg ice cream parlor has established itself as a street-side, summer attraction in Tel Aviv. Its creative, unusual flavors and home-made preparation often draw lines that spill out onto Rehov Ben-Yehuda. Part of the credit goes to Doron Laurent, Iceberg's former chef.
Laurent's training, however, isn't in ice cream. From his French father's side, Laurent comes from a long line of restaurateurs and chefs in the city of Arles in southern France.
He has worked as a pastry chef under Alain Passard at the prestigious Arbege in France. He admits to being overqualified for ice cream, but he took Iceberg's offer because it served as a nurturing home.
He has gone back to his roots in flour - if not to his French roots - by turning up the heat with Iceberg's new Italian restaurant and pizzeria, Vulcano. Vulcano opened last September in the Tel Aviv port with an Iceberg parlor on the premises, and it serves as Iceberg's perfect "hot" counterpart.
Iceberg Vulcano clearly comes across as a family pizzeria - easygoing, child-friendly and a tad boisterous. Children were getting their faces messy licking ice cream cones at the table. Teenagers were munching on pizza alone. Adults streamed in every so often to pick up cartons of ice cream. But the casual family feel does not translate into a small or simplistic menu. Devised by Laurent, it offers options for all age groups. For example, kids can order milk shakes while adults can order the warm, almond-tinged sangria, which I thoroughly enjoyed.
Children might appreciate the Spanish pinchos starters (NIS 30) for their colors, but the flavors appeal to more adult sophistication. Pinchos are like a mix of brochettes and tapas, with toppings that alternate nightly. Ours came with sardines and pickled lemons; mozzarella and dried tomatoes; pear, walnut and gorgonzola; mushrooms and bacon; lox and cream cheese. Each was characterized by fine raw materials and preparation, doing justice to the restaurant's culinary slogan "100% low-tech" which translates into natural and balanced food.
The onion soup (NIS 28), warmly recommended by the waitress, came with long, thin French baguettes perfectly glazed with butter and garlic. The soup is made according to Laurent's grandmother's recipe, and while overall satisfying, it was not as great as the waitress suggested. I couldn't help but wish it came in a bread bowl of Laurent's design. The bacon bits (a prominent feature on the menu) gave the rather mild soup a smoky twist.
The pizzas are baked the Italian way with a thin, crisp crust sturdy enough to hold the cheese without getting soggy. It may be hard to revert back to the major commercial chains after trying Laurent's pies. Each is made with smoked mozzarella imported from Italy to add a little punch to the locally bought soft mozzarella. Laurent's love affair with cheese became clear when he went back to the kitchen to show off a block of the smoked cheese, pointing to its charred edges. "It's incredible," he states.
The flour is also imported from Italy. "Italian flour is much richer in protein and gluten," explains Laurent. "It creates more elastic dough and it has much more power. It won't tear."
I tried the delicious bacon/sweet potato pizza (NIS 45) both with and without the bacon (the servers seek to accommodate customers' requests to add or subtract ingredients). The sweet potato sauce created a delectable creaminess countered by the crunchy sweet potato chip topping. I found the "three and one third" cheese pizza (mozzarella, gorgonzola, Parmesan and a third St. Mor), a little too cheesy (NIS 45). The arugula topping contributed some healthy leafiness, but did not add any more flavor. I regretted not trying another pizza concoction. Overall the toppings available cover vegetables, meat, and seafood.
The pineapple tart for dessert was a bit disappointing given Laurent's background. It looked beautiful with tiny pineapple pearls, but it came off as a little too pretentious; the flavor too sweet and fruity. I should have gone for something in the chocolate category, or maybe just some old-fashioned ice cream.
BOTTOM LINE:
Iceberg Vulcano is a great place for parents to take their children for a family outing or for a birthday celebration, or, for that matter, anyone who wants to enjoy quality pizza. As the weather gets warmer and foot traffic in the port increases, I imagine people will wait in line for pizza just like they do at the Iceberg ice cream parlors.
Tel Aviv Port, Hanger 11, (03) 602-6000.
Iceberg Vulcano, located in Tel Aviv's new port, offers boutique pizza at high-street prices
The Iceberg ice cream parlor has established itself as a street-side, summer attraction in Tel Aviv. Its creative, unusual flavors and home-made preparation often draw lines that spill out onto Rehov Ben-Yehuda. Part of the credit goes to Doron Laurent, Iceberg's former chef.
Laurent's training, however, isn't in ice cream. From his French father's side, Laurent comes from a long line of restaurateurs and chefs in the city of Arles in southern France.
He has worked as a pastry chef under Alain Passard at the prestigious Arbege in France. He admits to being overqualified for ice cream, but he took Iceberg's offer because it served as a nurturing home.
He has gone back to his roots in flour - if not to his French roots - by turning up the heat with Iceberg's new Italian restaurant and pizzeria, Vulcano. Vulcano opened last September in the Tel Aviv port with an Iceberg parlor on the premises, and it serves as Iceberg's perfect "hot" counterpart.
Iceberg Vulcano clearly comes across as a family pizzeria - easygoing, child-friendly and a tad boisterous. Children were getting their faces messy licking ice cream cones at the table. Teenagers were munching on pizza alone. Adults streamed in every so often to pick up cartons of ice cream. But the casual family feel does not translate into a small or simplistic menu. Devised by Laurent, it offers options for all age groups. For example, kids can order milk shakes while adults can order the warm, almond-tinged sangria, which I thoroughly enjoyed.
Children might appreciate the Spanish pinchos starters (NIS 30) for their colors, but the flavors appeal to more adult sophistication. Pinchos are like a mix of brochettes and tapas, with toppings that alternate nightly. Ours came with sardines and pickled lemons; mozzarella and dried tomatoes; pear, walnut and gorgonzola; mushrooms and bacon; lox and cream cheese. Each was characterized by fine raw materials and preparation, doing justice to the restaurant's culinary slogan "100% low-tech" which translates into natural and balanced food.
The onion soup (NIS 28), warmly recommended by the waitress, came with long, thin French baguettes perfectly glazed with butter and garlic. The soup is made according to Laurent's grandmother's recipe, and while overall satisfying, it was not as great as the waitress suggested. I couldn't help but wish it came in a bread bowl of Laurent's design. The bacon bits (a prominent feature on the menu) gave the rather mild soup a smoky twist.
The pizzas are baked the Italian way with a thin, crisp crust sturdy enough to hold the cheese without getting soggy. It may be hard to revert back to the major commercial chains after trying Laurent's pies. Each is made with smoked mozzarella imported from Italy to add a little punch to the locally bought soft mozzarella. Laurent's love affair with cheese became clear when he went back to the kitchen to show off a block of the smoked cheese, pointing to its charred edges. "It's incredible," he states.
The flour is also imported from Italy. "Italian flour is much richer in protein and gluten," explains Laurent. "It creates more elastic dough and it has much more power. It won't tear."
I tried the delicious bacon/sweet potato pizza (NIS 45) both with and without the bacon (the servers seek to accommodate customers' requests to add or subtract ingredients). The sweet potato sauce created a delectable creaminess countered by the crunchy sweet potato chip topping. I found the "three and one third" cheese pizza (mozzarella, gorgonzola, Parmesan and a third St. Mor), a little too cheesy (NIS 45). The arugula topping contributed some healthy leafiness, but did not add any more flavor. I regretted not trying another pizza concoction. Overall the toppings available cover vegetables, meat, and seafood.
The pineapple tart for dessert was a bit disappointing given Laurent's background. It looked beautiful with tiny pineapple pearls, but it came off as a little too pretentious; the flavor too sweet and fruity. I should have gone for something in the chocolate category, or maybe just some old-fashioned ice cream.
BOTTOM LINE:
Iceberg Vulcano is a great place for parents to take their children for a family outing or for a birthday celebration, or, for that matter, anyone who wants to enjoy quality pizza. As the weather gets warmer and foot traffic in the port increases, I imagine people will wait in line for pizza just like they do at the Iceberg ice cream parlors.
Tel Aviv Port, Hanger 11, (03) 602-6000.
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