Casual Color
Camembert croissant sandwich
Place: Zariffa, Jerusalem
When: Monday, midday
Environment: The eclectic neighborhood café is divided into three sections, more or less. There’s the café seating, which is like sitting on someone’s covered patio. Even there, there are two sections: a slightly raised wooden deck with a wooden pergola-type roof, and a tile-and-concrete patio. Both sections are surrounded by plants – on the walls, hanging from the ceiling, potted on shelves. The tables are mismatched, as are the chairs. It’s all quite colorful (dishes included). Ceiling fans are there for hot days, and space heaters for the colder days. Outside on a covered wooden deck is an area designated for those planning to spend a long time at the cafe on their computers, and it’s self-service there. Located between the two seating areas is a shop section that sells all kinds of pretty home goods and specialty foods.
My Order: Camembert croissant sandwich (NIS 48); small cappuccino (NIS 10); crack pie (NIS 38).
The low-down: The service inside was quick and attentive. The coffee came in a pretty red cup, on a light blue saucer. And without asking for a “strong” coffee, I got one. The flavor and texture were great, though temperature-wise, it could have been hotter. My croissant sandwich looked decadent, with its insides spilling out around it. A sharp knife was stabbed in its center: a bit more dramatic than the old-fashioned toothpick trick. Inside the croissant was a thyme spread, which lent a nice freshness to the tomato, sharp cheese and green leaves. The tomato spread and red onion added a layer of acidity, which was welcome against the buttery croissant. It was a bit difficult to eat delicately, but the steak knife came in handy, once extracted from the center. Every bakery has a different version of crack pie. The Zariffa version is sweet and gooey, with an oatmeal cookie crust, and topped with pecans. A buttery, vanilla salted caramel filling really lifted the dessert to special heights. It was served with whipped cream, which was unnecessary but appreciated.
Who else was there: Two young women around 22 years old sat together over an order of shakshuka. One wore a cropped, long-sleeved white t-shirt, gray sweatpants, athletic socks and sandals, and looked like she had rolled out of bed and into the café. The other young woman wore a white shirt covered in eyelets, loose gray jeans and black athletic socks with her Nikes. Both sat casually at the table, one cross-legged, and one with her leg folded on her chair. Both wore their long, dark hair loose. Neither wore any makeup.
It was a social meeting, where the two friends caught up on mutual friends, and on their respective lives. It was a day off from their regular busy lives, now that both had finished the army and were in university. They had their regular 20-something dramas to discuss: how to deal with the annoying friend, what to do about the friend who was making dumb decisions, how to approach various moral dilemmas and life choices. But it wasn’t a normal year to be university students, with the academic year starting late due to war, and a large number of students and instructors still on reserve duty. The young women had been soldiers too, but they no longer were. Life goes on, even when your friends and your friends’ friends are being killed. And so they set aside a slow morning to dress down, to catch up in their old ‘hood, to feel normal, and to break bread.
