Sunday, January 24, 2010

Bacon Challah

I went to renew my Canadian passport in Tel Aviv this past Friday.  Hubby was in the mood to travel with me.  I let him tag along, provided he could keep up with me. I wasn't just going to the embassy and then go home.  This was Friday.  The only day off work when I could travel.  And I was adamant about getting to know Tel Aviv as well as I do Jerusalem.  It's just a much bigger city to maneuver.  I warned Hubby that I was planning to walk on every main street in the city as a way to figure it out. My big plan was to go one Friday each month. 




Lifting up the groceries - in apartments with no elevator



Yoga Master (just kidding, it's only a Tel Aviv beggar)



this enclave of small homes used to be an Arab neighborhood pre-1948 in the middle of now-bustling Ibn Gvirol Street.  The people living there now are holding out for the Big Bucks

This Friday was warm and sunny, and we walked and walked and walked pretty much for hours. From the embassy to Allenby and back to the train station on Alozoroff Street. I stopped off at an English book shop with a happy-go-lucky Irish fellow who told me stories about his partying and drinking with his friend Van (Morrison) and Rory (Gallagher).



Book Store owner - hung out with Rory Gallagher and Van Morrison years ago...

Occasionally, we'd ask someone to steer us in the right direction.  I had asked an older frumpy woman how to get to Allenby Street.  She had no idea, but was telling me about buses I could catch instead.  Hubby was upset with me.

"You don't ask those kind of people for directions."

"Why not?"

"You have to ask some BALD guy for directions, like the one in back of me.  Or someone with an earring. Those are the people that know Tel Aviv."

The bald guy walking in back of us apparently didn't hear Hubby's tactless comment.  And he did actually point us in the right direction.

We walked from the embassy to Allenby Street, which was about a 45 minute walk.  I had noticed on a previous trip a restaurant on Rothschild and Allenby called Benedicts which is open 24 hours a day/7 days a week.  Definitely no rabbinic supervision there.  But what was there was a long line of patrons waiting to be seated.  The wait was 1/2 hour.  Was it worth it?  I looked at the menu to see what was the draw of this restaurant for so many people.  Well, there is a huge assortment of different kinds of breakfasts.  The usual Israeli breakfasts with more unusual combinations of omelettes.  But I guess the big draw were the eggs benedict breakfasts - with bacon, with ham and the English breakfast with sausages and bacon.  

"What would you say if I ordered bacon with my eggs" I dared Hubby.

"I'd call your sister"

Yep.  Go ahead and tell my ultra-orthodox family what a grave sinner your wife is...

We ordered the meatless Israeli breakfasts - with the Spanish and Bulgarian omelettes, and ordered a challah for Shabbat.  It wasn't until we tasted it that evening that I thought - hey!  What if they made it with butter (a no-no when you're eating it with meat) or even worse, with bacon oil.  My kids looked at me.  It certainly was one of the best challahs we've ever eaten.  We called it our bacon challah.

2 comments:

Ahavah-Shim'on said...

oh dear! thing is bacon always smells much better cooking than it actually tastes....

but bacon challah just takes the biscuit... can you get told off for even thinking about eating bacon?

You were the first that came to mind when I got tagged the other day.... so please consider your self a) tagged and b) awarded the Kreativ Blog badge.


Which can be found at the beginning of my tag post... dont forget to copy and paste this little badge on your blog!

http://ahavah-recoveringchristians.blogspot.com/2010/01/kreativ-blogger-award.html

Rabbi Lars Shalom said...

the homeless man, he's in prayer