Burekas, Meze, and more (hungry yet?)

Foods (like languages and cultural traditions) are often more similar to their neighboring countries than they are different.  Even (and most often) between countries that fight like brothers.  I just read a great blog post by good friends Tracie and Wayne http://www.surleevoyage.com/ - "A Turkish Food Primer:  Borek and Beyond," about a common food found during their visit to Turkey.

Israeli's have their own version - burekas.  But it's basically the same idea.  Filo puff pastry stuffed with various cheeses, potatoes, mushrooms, etc.   We've had them several times these past 2 months, and they are tasty, but you better live in a walking city if you're going to partake in this calorie packed breakfast often.

If you read a few posts earlier on their blog, you'll also see a great photo of meze, or a HUGE tray of small plates of various salads.  This is a common approach at fish restaurants here.  You have to order a few less fish than people, as you'll all likely fill up on the salads before the fish (or mix grill meats if you prefer) even get there!  This experience has made our greatest hits list for any and all visitors who choose to make the trek across the Atlantic to see us while here in Tel Aviv. 

So, when are you coming to visit?

Left behind in Tel Aviv

On our walk back from dinner last week, we saw a little fuzzy lump on the sidewalk smaller than a softball.  Our first instinct was, "go around, it's a rat,"  but as we moved closer, it didn't move at all.    It was under a tree, so I wondered if it could be a baby possum.  But there was no tail.  Up close I could see a tiny pointy snout.  He was just curled into a little ball, and he'd move only slightly at the loud tap of a shoe, like he was startled.  But he wasn't otherwise going anywhere.  In case you're wondering, it was a baby porcupine.

Poor thing.  This isn't much of a picture, but it's all my phone could do in the dark, and I didn't want to keep traumatizing the little guy with the flash.

Moving time!

Yesterday was our first day in our new apartment (for the second time).  We met for the key exchange at 10am.  They did a good job of emptying it, and it's relatively clean, but the fridge needed a scrub down, as do many of the walls and switches, and the floors will probably need another round once we've tromped around in there with our cleaning rags, ikea boxes, etc.  After some kitchen scrubbing, we spend the afternoon building new Ikea furniture. 

Today we'll continue.  And I'll try to get some pics to load for you.  Tomorrow the movers bring our stuff (Sunday is the first day of the work week here, remember?) 

Yafo flee market

Last Thursday evening after sunset we went for a nice long walk down the boardwalk by the sea, into Yafo, the town directly south of Tel Aviv.  They hold a flea market in the central streets every Thursday evening.  While it is called a flea marketi, it has a mix of used and new goods and art for sale.  There's also food and music.

The passion that Israel draws out

When we learned we were getting reloed, word spread like wildfire through our Israeli network.  If I had a dollar for every time I heard from someone about how much I'd love it here, I'd be able to work for free for the rest of my life.

It wasn't just Israeli's spreading the love.  The two outgoing Ford guys were genuinely torn up about having to leave. 

Tonight at happy hour in the hotel we met a US Air pilot who does the Philly-Israel run 3 times a month.  He's been doing it since they started the route, and he has built local contacts where he is getting involved in local projects during his off hours.  Stories like this are a dime a dozen here.  There's something about Israel that brings out people's passion - strong opinions, desire to come here, or to get involved in something. 

Do you have a story?  I'd like to hear.  Share it here via comment.

The frenchies are frenching in Israel

We have quickly discovered that the French use Tel Aviv for holidays the way the Israeli's used to use Turkey (until the recent scuffle over the Gaza Strip, causing most Israeli's to boycott tourism to Turkey for the meantime). 

We're not sure there are any French left in France.  At least during August.  We hear more French in the hotel than any other language.  When Dan took the Bielik's to see our apartment last week, they had a pleasant interaction with the French family renting it right now.  Apparently they just bought their own condo here, but it's not ready for habitation yet, so they rented our place for their holiday this summer.  Until now, they always stayed at the Sheraton.  Of course. 

The frenchies are frenching all over town.  In fact, a news report said there are as many French in Israel in August as there are college students in Boston during the school year - 200,000!!!  But at least their kids aren't knocking on the door to our room at 1am and yelling in the hallways like the Spanish vacationers in July.  I wonder if I'd get treated differently if I went by my maiden name here?

chutzpah, they say

Parking in Tel Aviv is a lot like Boston.  Dan has a resident sticker on his car, so we've been trying to park it on the street overnight to save the hotel parking fee on a 2nd car.  (I don't have a resident sticker yet, thanks to the bureaocracy at city hall, but that's a whole other story).

So tonight Dan parked in the short-term hotel spaces that are reserved for 20 minute in-and-out visits.  On our walk back to the hotel after dinner, we saw a great spot close by, so I stood in it, while Dan went to get the Explorer and bring it around.  This is where it gets fun.

Within 30 seconds a guy pulls up to within a foot of my legs.  When I didn't move (I kept reading a little brochure I'd picked up on the way home), he got out and started telling me how you can't reserve city spots (never mind that I've lost oodles of spots to other people doing the same thing here).  How did I know what he said?  Because he used English.  I think he figured I wouldn't know how it goes here, and so began the game of Chicken.  While he continued his rant, a jeep started to back into the spot from the other end.  He came within a few feet of me as well.  Not sure what the two of them thought they'd do if I actually moved.  But I didn't.  The first guy got back in his car, rolled a few more inches toward me, and sat there.  The guy in the jeep now got out and asked me what was up.  I told him I was parking here.  So he gave up and drove off.  Guy number 1, still there.  After another couple minutes of trying to engage me in a heated debate while I continued to ignore him, he drove off. 

Another minute passed, and a third car pulled up.  This one didn't get out or ask anything, just tried to pull in.  When I didn't move from my strategically positioned middle of the spot stance, he drove off too. 

Next came a woman, on foot!  She walked up, and started asking me in English if I speak Hebrew or English.  I ignored her initially, but she was persistent.  She said, "it is a big spot, for two cars, no?"  I said, "well, I doubt it.  We're parking an Explorer here."  She gave me a confused look.  So I stretched out my arms wide and said, "a big truck."  At which point she lost hope and walked away. 

Another minute passed and Dan finally made it around the one-way streets and pulled up.  Here they call it chutzpah.  I call it survival in Israel.  If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, eh?