Orna and Ella

I haven't updated Everywhere Eating in a while but, rightly so, I'm in Tel Aviv now and ready to get back in the swing of things. And where better to pick up blogging again than Orna and Ella, Sheinkin's dainty little hot spot bistro?

Saturday was my 23rd birthday, and Orna and Ella was the obvious choice to gather my women of valor for a night of feasting. We, the Tel Avivim and frequent Orna and Ella diners, sat down knowing exactly what we wanted to order. The newbies, our out-of-town guests from Jerusalem and Alexandria, were the receipients of way too many suggestions about the menu's must-haves. By the time our (debatably) very cute waiter approached, we were ready to order the whole menu. He even had to go back for pen and paper when he realized what we wanted.

"That's a lot of food, you know," he cautioned.
"OH. We know." Liana responded, too confidently for a person of her size.

We began with the two bottles of the Pelter Rose, our usual choice, and the sweet potato pancakes. The big plate. For the table. Obviously. These sweet potato pancakes are the staple of any respectable meal at Orna and Ella, and the restaurant's specialty. Please don't imagine fancy latkes or gourmet hashbrowns; these soft pancakes are little bites of sweet potato clouds-- with chive sour cream, tomatoes and cucumbers, just for good measure!



Needless to say, we had finished the pancakes before we had even toasted our Pelter.

Next came our appetizers. We had it all: carrot soup, goat cheese salad, asian chicken soup, smoked salmon with corn bread, risotto balls. It was a synchronized dance of eating: sit up, reach, fork, bite, sit back, breathe, repeat. It's a wonder that our arms didn't bump each other as we all grasped at bites across the table. A delirium began to set in.

We had almost forgotten more food was coming when, all of a sudden!, our main dishes arrived. Salmon scallopini, chicken salad, fish balls with couscous, butternut squash tortellini, ricotta and asparagus ravioli. Dishes covered the table and we barely had room for our glasses. Liana started to laugh, I poured myself more wine, Niriel strategized, Emily quietly surveyed the scene and Monica dug right in. We all tried bites of everyones, but no one dared rank the dishes. It was all too good.

After we wiped our plates clean, Liana summarized, "This is the best restaunt. I've been to a hundred restaurants and this is the best one." Which may or may not be true, but either way, it is certainly one of my favorites. In Israel, I often get trapped in an Israeli food/Italian/Sushi triangle, even getting sick of food that I usually love. But Orna and Ella unassumingly presents one of the most creative menus available, where Israeli classics are served with a gourmet spin. No matter how many times I order the same thing, it always feels fresh.

Finally understanding our digestive prowess, our waiter cleared our empty plates and offered us dessert menus. No one was hungry, but I sucked up the pain and ordered a tarte tatin for the table. Five spoons please! When our dessert arrived though, it was accompanied by a magnificent birthday surprise: a massive merangue, filled with whipped cream and topped with passion fruit syrup. When our waiter placed our two desserts on the table, we thought we were hallucinating.

"What IS THIS!?" Monica asked in wonder. Having lived in Egypt the past six months with limited food options, she had entered culinary shock two hours before. "Was this even on the menu!?"

Liana responded, "YES! I saw it! It's called the Poof!"

That's when we knew we were in trouble. It took us a whole thirty seconds to realize that Liana had no idea what she was saying. And that Orna and Ella would never print the word "poof."

After finishing every morsel of sweet goodness, we sat back and hoped to digest, of course failing miserably. That's when I knew (although, of course, I had already known) that I have the best friends in the world. It takes true love for five beautiful 23 year old ladies to stretch their stomachs in my honor-- and with such dignity! After a little, we all walked slowly home to our respective Tel Aviv apartments, nursing our bursting bellies with pride, secretly knowing that more dinners like this one are in our future. A good omen for my 23rd year....

McFalafel

http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-4014721,00.html

Chicago: The Publican

I've been looking forward to this dinner for about a week now. I arrived in Chicago forty eight hours ago, hoping for some rejuvenation from my friends Charlie and D who moved out here last month. Usually I would rely on New York to provide distraction, but as it turns out, New York isn't for me right now. So, HELLLLLO CHICAGO. I wondered out loud yesterday if Chicago is America's hidden treasure, and then was lovingly reminded that millions of people live here and that Chicago is one of America's most influential cities. I mean, OBAMA is from here for god's sake. So if I'm a little slow on the uptake, at least now I'm in on this well known secret.

After the great disappointment that Rick Bayless' restaurants are closed on Mondays, Charlie came to the rescue (as he always does) by recommending The Publican in Fulton Market. A publican is a tavern keeper, yet as we stumbled through an area that screamed of organized crime but smelled of chocolate, we realized that The Publican is no normal tavern. Despite the long wooden tables and extensive beer list, The Publican's clean feel and product focused menu reinvents the tavern for the contemporary consumer who cares about more than pints and meatloaf.

Our waiter-- who may or may not have hated us-- brought us to our table, and then promptly locked us inside. The Publican offers side booths with wooden saloon doors, which really allowed us to focus on our private dining experience. We almost forgot that other people in the restaurant existed! It was amazing. Just a quaint little wooden box for three, what more could we need?

We began with beer, then Charlie's wine selection ["grenache, because white wine is only for getting drunk"], and then bread and butter. I love butter. That's all I have to say about that.

The Publican's menu focuses on pork and shellfish, which for the Jewish eater may prove a little tricky. Luckily, my kosher allegiances stop once shellfish is on the menu, so I still had many options at my disposal. Yet the porkcentric elements of the menu were too much for the boys to resist, and so our meal commenced with some good old fashioned pork rinds. I can't even imagine what these taste like, but I think it's probably something like pork fat fried into a chip and covered in chili. deeeeeelish, apparently.

For my appetizer choice, I opted for the fried perch with fried green tomatoes, lemon, parmesean and tartar sauce. The Publican suggests that most items be shared, so we all dug in with fervor. WOW. The perch was so tender, the green tomatoes so fresh, the parmesean a perfect complement to both... mmm. Since the Publican's menu specifies where each ingredient comes from, it is relevant to note that the perch itself comes from Lake Erie, and The Publican's owners probably tasted a lot of fish before deciding that Lake Erie's were the best. As our waiter said, "the chefs don't matter, the recipe doesn't matter, only the product matters". So while all the ingredients may not be local, they certainly are America's top quality ingredients. And as D intelligently pointed out, "it is local where it comes from".

Next, our forks dove into soft shell crab atop a shrimp-leek galette with lemon aioli. Soft shell crab is Charlie's favorite food, so this dish was a must. [side note: Charlie's second favorite food is hard shell crab.] I don't know how we ended up with so much fried food, but probably because I was the one ordering. Why I've never eaten soft shell crab before is beyond me, but trust me, I'll never skip over it again. You can just EAT THE WHOLE THING. It's so... carniverous. And yet, so delicate. I love it.


The boys reverted back to Suckling Pig as their entree. Ew. I mean, I'm sure it was good, but whatever.
YES! FISH TIME AGAIN. We chose the golden trout, whose insides were pink as a salmon, fried to a perfection and topped with cherry tomatoes and onions. This was amazing. First of all, it must be emphasized that Charles Kurose can gut and clean a trout in twenty seconds. What a hunk. The Publican's trout, which is probably only slightly more sophisticated than Charlie's trouts, is fried whole but without the bones, allowing the diner to just cut the fish right through, eating juicy pink meat with a crunchy fried skin. And then the geniuses in back just stick whole vines of cherry tomatoes right on top. It's so real! Tomatoes on the vine! Marvelling at the garden like purity of this plate was almost satisfying enough. But, obviously, it tasted great too.


As a side, we ordered the corn, which was made Mexican style with parmesean, chili, lime and aioli. THIS WAS SUCH A WINNER. The corn is grilled in butter, covered in aioli, and then dusted with parm and chili and lime. It's... brilliant. And although this can be bought from a street cart for two bucks, it's defintely worth the eight dollars at the Publican. The waiter explained that The Publican uses the street food recipe, yet replaces mayo with aioli and uses less butter and chili. When I asked him the difference between mayo and aioli, he confidently responded that Mayo is just the brand name for aioli. Since I was in complete shock at the revelation that Mayo is the same as Kleenex, Bandaids and QTips, I completely missed the fact that this makes absolutely no sense. As it turns out, our waiter was wrong. Mayo just has egg and aioli is olive oil and garlic. Annnnyway... ORDER THIS. Street food or restaurant style, it's incredible.

This meal was superb.

I would just like to leave this post with a quote from the back of The Publican's free post cards. Despite the fact that I don't eat pork, I find this poem the perfect way of describing the Publican's ability to take its food very seriously and still have fun at the same time. This is a great restaurant. Anyway, here goes:

"Here's to the Swine/ That animal divine/ who through mud and slime/ Grit and Grime/ Gorges over time/ Into Meats Sublime"

Thank you, thank you very much

Goat Cheese at Hazorea

Kibbutzim are not usually known for gourmet cuisine. The Kibbutz chader ochel daily produces mass quantities of food for its members, which typically results in a buffet the common meat dishes with an assortment of salatim on the side. I have a soft spot in my heart for this kind of eating, where every meal exemplifies the kind of community living that is at its best on Kibbutz. That being said, when I trekked up north last weekend to Kibbutz Hazorea, I was blown away by the food surprises Hazorea has to offer.

At the base of Hazorea lies a magical little wood shack filled with goat cheese. That was a ridiculous sentence to write, but it's true.

Inside the doors of "Goat Cheese from Hazorea", which is only open on Saturdays, hides the freshest bread, jam, and goat cheese you can dream of. Hard cheeses, soft cheeses with spices, cheese spreads... everything. The bread is fluffy, thick, and soft; filled with olives, nuts or seeds. Everything tastes like it was made that morning, as though the food was made just for me to come and enjoy.









There is one woman in charge, and after letting you sample every type of cheese imaginable, she will lovingly construct you a sandwich. After selecting the bread, you can choose whichever and however many cheeses your heart desires (I went with one hard cheese made with wine and a chive filled soft cheese). Then, you can choose between pesto, olive spread, and sundried tomato spread (I chose all three). And finally, you can add grilled peppers, eggplant, tomato, cucumber or lettuce. Everything is handmade right in front of you; each ingredient carefully placed and organized in order to construct the perfect sandwich.






Then, placed on a rustic wood cutting board, with a garnish of fresh olives, that magical woman presents you with your masterpiece:

This sandwich is almost too good to be ruined with trying to explain it in words. Because of the care taken in its construction, each bite contains every element and your mouth never misses any part. The bread by itself is enough to rave about, but when all the ingredients come together, this sandwich becomes a sandwich unlike any other. The freshest, most wholesome, hearty meal that a little farm has to offer. And really, an experience like this could only happen on kibbutz. There is no better way for kibbutznikim to relish shabbat than to take a minute to enjoy their own labor, to appreciate the delicacies their work produces. Where else do we get the chance to slow down like this?

For the Hummus Lovers of the World

East Orleans, Cape Cod

You know your body is in for a roller coaster when you go on vacation to a place where most meals come out looking like this...

.... and most of the menus look something like this....



MMMMM.... fried seafood....

Jamie and I just got back from a week on Cape Cod, the magical tip of Massachusetts where mini-golf is competitive and biking never seems to get tiring. We stayed at the most beautiful little house, complete with cable TV and a grill! What could be better? Every morning, we woke up and sat outside drinking coffee and reading the New York Times (Jamie: front section/business, Zoe: Dining In/ crossword), and then Jamie would fry up some french toast with my homemade raisin challah. Sometimes, he'd even throw a slice of American cheese on top just to take advantage of vacation-justified gluttony. mmmmm... to be young, in love, and fat in the summer!

Eating on Cape Cod is its own little adventure. My mom theorizes that the cape re-defined our family's eating traditions, creating our own "New England Kosher Style". Still no pork- but shell-fish in the summer on the cape: allowed!

I obviously arrived with very important eating check-list in hand. Jamie can attest that the very notion of missing even one seafood item was utterly intolerable. So, to make sure we covered it all, Jamie succumbed to my mania and we only ate in once the whole week. [Don't worry! We made good use of the grill during Celtics Game 7-- sob-- eating huge half pound Ju(i)cy Lucys!]

Fried Scallops were my first requirement. These succulent little poppers are like candy in your mouth. If cooked correctly, the tenderness of the meat coupled with the crunchy outside shell makes these rich devils such a treat. Of course, a whole plate of fried scallops and french fries can also cause a severe stomach ache so I highly recommend a good helping of cole slaw and a fruity beer to balance out the friedness. Oh man, fried scallops, what did I do to deserve thee?


Jamie most looked forward to the clam chowder. He believes that the Cape has the freshest clam chowder in the world, and he searches for little grains of sand at the bottom of his bowl just to prove himself right. We bought this cup at a roadside stand in Ptown, poured in a whole pack of oyster crackers, and two minutes later, this soup lay warmly in our bellies...


Despite his love of clams, though, Jamie can't really stomach the idea of oysters. Since I intellectually believe that loving oysters is a prerequisite for all foodies, I orderded myself a plate anyway. Since this isn't an "R" month, though, I limited myself to only four. Eating them without the cocktail sauce like a true Francophile, of course, these slipperies slid right down my throat and oozed that salty, Wellfleet sea water happily down into my tummy. Worth the ten bucks for sure.

Here come more clams for Jamie! Fried. Fried. Fried. Look at that plate! Good thing we biked seventeen miles the next day or else he'd still be comatose.

Even though lobster season hasn't quite hit its peak yet, I couldn't resist the Lobster Fettucine Alfredo. I know, I know, I should send this plate into thisiswhyyourefat.com. But, cmon! It's summer time. And what goes better with the richest, most decadent, shellfish thats ever existed than some good, old fashioned cream, butter and cheese?? Sigh. Just thinking about that creamy piece of lobster claw makes me melt.

.... still thinking about that lobster?
Me too.

Ok, moving on. On our last night, my mom treated the two of us to dinner at Abba, an Israeli-Thai fusion restaurant in Orleans. Delicious! After a little scotch (Jamie) and prosecco (Zoe) introduction, we set right in: beet/fried goat cheese salad for me, and grilled scallops over eggplant puree with grapefruit sauce for Jamie. Yum yum yum. Finally some veggies for this self-indulgent couple! Yes! Next came the Thai influence: steak filet with green curry noodles for Jamie, and seafood stew in thai basil broth for me. Both of our dishes were wonderfully executed, laden with subtle flavors and good quality proteins. A few lessons, though, we should always order meat medium-rare, and it's important to clarify a dish's spiciness before you order it. No complaints though, an all around wonderful meal. And on such a cute little (bug-free!) outdoor terrace. Thanks Mom.











Sadly, all vacations must end eventually. Time for a little seafood detox and real life again. Slowly meandering our way off the cape, we stopped at a few tag sales and... FOUR SEAS ICE CREAM. Probably the best ice cream ever created [only a slight exaggeration] we got in line with all the four year olds and ordered black raspberry, fresh strawberry and mint chocolate chip. Don't ask me why the latter comes out a bright pink color, I don't know the answer but I trust Four Seas anyway.


Look at us! Such happy ice cream eaters!

Until next summer, Cape Cod. Thanks for the salty air and the shellfish.

In case you're interested:
http://www.abbarestaurant.com/
http://www.fourseasicecream.com/
http://www.arnoldsrestaurant.com/