See And Savour Israel Differently

In the place where her father and forefathers were born, Debra Kamin experiences what she loves most about Israel: its food

- Debra Kamin

I returned to Israel because I was hungry. I grew up in Ohio on a diet of Rice-A-Roni, Tropicana, and chicken nuggets, but some of my strongest memories of taste are rooted in this tiny, complicated country. After dinner, my father would tell my sister and me about the fragrant orange groves behind his childhood home in the city of Kfar Saba, and the tomato-and-goat-cheese sandwiches, pressed together on warmed seeded bread, that his savta (grandma) Yona packed for bus trips to Tel Aviv. Each summer we would return to Israel to eat schnitzel and piping-hot chicken livers in my aunt Chana's kitchen, drink sticky-sweet kumquat gazoz, and swim in the Mediterranean.

These flavors lured me back to Tel Aviv, where I lived for nearly a decade; though I've since returned to the States, I still feel their pull. So in early 2020, I went back again to see and savour Israel differently.

Rather than make restaurant reservations in Tel Aviv, I decided to rent a car so I could go to the source of the country's bounty. It's a surprisingly feasible proposition: Israel has about the same square mileage as New Jersey, and with an agricultural heritage rooted deep in the Biblical rhythm of the seasons, farm-to-table is the normal way of life. In modern times, those farms have been the sites of many innovations: The seedless bell pepper was invented in Israel, as was the golden-yellow Galia melon, and even modern drip irrigation. Renting a car is easy, and roads are well marked with English signage.