Assorted Flavors
Mushroom bagel
Place: Ikar Ha’aretz, Beit Nekofa
When: Monday, late morning
Environment: The outside of the building is not exceptional or even inviting, and then you walk up the steps onto a small wooden deck and step inside. The first thing in your line of vision is a vitrine filled with insanely decadent pastries. There’s a large cheese counter, and a specialty shop of sauces, wines, drinks, boxes of tea, fresh flowers, imported products and the like. You can treat Ikar Ha’aretz as a store, and buy something to take it home. The alternative is to move through the shop to an aluminum-roofed deck area, or keep going to a thatched-roof area with artificial grass. It’s all basically outdoors, so don’t expect air conditioning. But fans keep the air moving, with a cool water mist added, and the roofs are pretty high. The tables are also spaced comfortably apart. “Rustic” is a bit of an understatement, but it’s interesting rustic. One concrete wall is adorned with records and record covers, and at the top of that wall are all manner of players: phonographs, radios, tape players, and even a movie projector. The outdoor area has more antiques, from sewing machines to kettles to lanterns and even an old tractor. A scale’s weighing pans are filled with corks. It’s eclectic, in a stimulating and fun way. Music was playing without blasting. Conversations from other tables were audible but the sounds all blended together, covered by the fans, and didn’t distract. The place was not half full at the start of my visit, but toward midday it came closer to filling up; it also appeared they were expecting 2 very large groups, based on the long tables set up and waiting.
My Order: Mushroom bagel (NIS 52); small cappuccino; cream and berry mille-feuille (NIS 26 as a coffee + pastry combo).
The low-down: When the waitress asked what I wanted, I said I wanted the mushroom bagel, unless the brioche was better. Her eyes lit up and she confirmed the bagel was one of the best choices. Once it (quickly) arrived, I could see why. The bagel was toasted to a sturdy crunch but no further; the soft-boiled egg was, indeed, runny inside; the mushrooms were regular mushrooms stir fried with some onion and garlic; the grated parmesan added salt and depth; and the green onions gave the dish the sharpness needed to cut the rest of the concoction. To be honest, I couldn’t really discern the truffles or cream listed on the menu as part of the dish, but that didn’t really matter. It was good either way. The bagel was served with a side salad topped with all manner of seeds and seasonings, somewhat like an everything bagel but a bit more Asian. It is worth noting that one waitress was manning the entire dining area by herself, and with a smile. The coffee was excellent: It was hot, and the bitter was prominent but mixed into the milk seamlessly. The only complaint was the stupid cup with a tiny, useless handle. I chose my dessert mostly based on looks and size. It was built like a sandwich cookie, with each “cookie” made of a buttery, flaky pastry, like a napoleon but with fewer layers. The inside was filled with crème pâtissière, and there was a center filling of berry jam. The top was decorated with white chocolate and little berry crumbles. There was no dainty way to eat the treat, so I gave up hope on that front and made a mess. The cream was delicate, the jelly was tangy (like the filling in a Danish or pie), and the pastry was flaky. It was not bad, but I probably wouldn’t choose it again. There were so many appealing choices, and I would guess some of them would have been truly outstanding.
Who else was there: Two women and a man – all in black tees – sat together at a round table, crowding around a computer screen. One woman’s shirt was sleeveless, and she wore cropped jeans and nude-colored chunk heels. Her highlighted, curly hair was loose. The other woman had darker hair pinned up off her neck, and she balanced her black shirt with khakis and canvas slides. The man had short hair, a short beard, dark-rimmed glasses, jeans, and running shoes. The three were somewhere in their late forties.
They were working on a product pitch for their small business that they were trying to get off the ground. They were from a nearby moshav and creating a business to combine products from local artisans with the tourism industry. For instance, if an organized tour was coming through the area, participants would receive gift bags with olive oil, cheese, pastry, ceramics, tea, and bread – all made by people from the hills around Jerusalem. They had a meeting scheduled for later in the week and wanted to make sure their website looked good, their pricing plan wouldn’t scare tour operators off, and they had the right story to convince their would-be clients of the human element behind the gift bags. The locals needed more exposure, more sales, and more hope for their shops and the economy in general. And so the three of them debated, shared ideas, and polished their plan.
