Winding down

We don't entertain much.

Not that we don't want to, but this apt is just too small to a.) cook and b.) accommodate guests. Other than Thanksgiving (which seems like a lifetime ago) and having Dori here for Shabbat a few times, we haven't had people over. Till tonight, when Batsheva and Eli are coming for a one-day-after Tu B'Shvat (a late winter semi-holiday known as the new year for the trees) dinner. As I did for Thanksgiving, I had to plan the meal carefully, not just to fit the limited parameters of my kitchen, but to include the symbolic foods that are traditionally eaten on Tu B'Shvat: the seven biblical fruits (barley, wheat, olives, pomegranates, grapes, dates and figs). Try planning that kind of menu. But I managed; we are having salmon in an onion, orange and pomegranate sauce, barley pilaf with onions and raisins, a variant of ratatouille with olives, bread and dried figs and dates. To balance it off, I added leeks with hoummous and a kohlrabi/red pepper salad.

There is a point to all this, and it's not just to brag. It has more to do with the fact that we are in the home stretch of this trip, and there are things we have learned. One is that we overcame the challenge of living in a very small space. Another is that it's possible to cook on a 2-burner stove and toaster oven, although I don't want to make a career of it, and next time we come we will rent an apt with a regular oven and second bedroom. We have also managed very well without a car.

In a broader sense, I have a growing appreciation of what it means to live in this country. Yes, it's crazy and chaotic, plagued with problems, facing escalating threats not just from the neighbors but from an increasingly hostile west, shockingly expensive, frustrating in many ways ... I could go on and on. But that's the cup half empty version. There's another side of the story. Israel is one of the most dynamic places on the planet. In every area of life there are things going on here that are miraculous. Scientific discoveries, medical advancements, archaeological finds that validate the Bible, artistic experimentation, educational opportunities, cultural innovation. None of this makes it to the newspapers, so it remains one of the world's best kept secrets. We have attended more classes, concerts, plays, lectures and museums in the two and a half months we've been here than we normally do in two and a half years in Chicago.

If there is one adjective to describe everything about this country it's diverse. The people, the geography, the industry, the agriculture, the education, the culture, even the weather. Walk down any street in any city and you will see the rainbow coalition that everyone talks about but that no one else delivers. The urban areas are a paragon of diversity; not just Arabs and Jews living together in a peaceful and productive way. This is not simply co-existence. This is integrated. Add to the mix the thousands of Thais, Filippinos, Sri Lankans, Indians and Africans who make their homes here. They came to work and many stayed. There's nothing quite as eye-opening as seeing a religious Jewish family comprised of an Israeli father, Thai mother, and 3 composite children eating felafels at a sidewalk cafe. Or a religious Arab or Druse family splashing around in the pool at one of the Dead Sea hotels. Or Bedouin soldiers. Or the variety of prepaid phone cards for a dozen countries that are on sale at every kiosk in downtown Jerusalem. Or the people lined up at currency exchanges sending money back to their home countries. All these groups of ethnics are in the malls, on public buses, in the movie theaters and restaurants. There's a reason why this is so: they want it. Think about what that means the next time you hear about the latest frontal attack by the BDS movement or the media and academic elite.

And I have to, yet again, talk about food. The food is fabulous. I even met someone who told me he immigrated to Israel because of the food. Seriously. Walking through the produce market is an adventure under any circumstance. In fact, there are twice weekly tours of the market and they are always sold out. Agricultural innovation has produced leeks that don't have sand between the layers and avocados that don't turn black after being cut. Fruit is unfailingly sweet. Vegetables taste like they are supposed to taste. It also helps, as anyone who has shopped at a farmers' market knows, that what you buy today was picked this morning. Ditto for fish. One of the biggest innovations has been in the realm of dairy products. When I lived here we used to refer to cheese as sliced rubber and it came in two varieties: cottage and yellow. Both were tasteless. Now you can get every imaginable type of cheese, and some that are very innovative like cottage cheese with chopped olives. The yogurts and spinoffs such as leben, eshel and gil, were good then and have remained so, but with additional varieties. Probably the biggest area of improvement has been in meat and poultry. Back in the early 70's the meat was of poor quality and unidentifiable to an American shopper, since the butchering style here is European. While the style is still European, the quality is prime and it's possible to have an excellent, rare, filet mignon, something we cannot acquire in the US due to restrictions imposed on kosher meat. The chickens were scrawny and usually sold with lots of pin feathers and the feet attached. Now they are well fed, generally free range, and of very high quality. Bakery products were always good (too good), and there's more variety than ever. If we weren't doing so much walking I'd gain even more weight.

The fact that we are down to our last two weeks is sinking in, and I have no idea where the time went. Sid goes to the army on Sunday and I am taking a quick overnight trip with Batsheva. Meanwhile I realized I never included photos of the apt, so here goes:




 Our spacious living/dining/kitchen:

Our spacious bedroom.
The queen size bed and cupboard were assembled in the room.

Our spacious bathroom.
I had to get very creative to store our toiletries.