Nostalgia Sunday – The Old Train Station is New Again
Filed under: Art, design, General, History and Culture, Nostalgia Sunday, Picture of the Week, Travel
The Old Train Station in Neve Zedek is a recent and welcome addition to the city’s list of arts and recreation centers.
The site, built in 1890, was home to the Jaffa-Jerusalem railway, which traveled the distance between the two cities in 3 hours and 50 minutes.
The building was abandoned for many years but gained a new lease on life when the city decided to turn it into a cultural hotspot (for more, read the ISRAEL21c article).
The Station complex — also known as HaTahana — is fast becoming a home to photography exhibitions, such as POV – The Israel Photography Exhibition
This past Thursday night was the opening of Aftershock, a series about the Haiti earthquake’s aftermath by leading photojournalist Ziv Koren. The event was attended by Tel Aviv’s glitterati and while it’s always nice to get a a glimpse of our local beautiful people, there’s no mistaking the star power that is newly revived Station Complex. A definite must-see.
My brisket butcher
Filed under: coexistence, Food, General, History and Culture, Holidays, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, Life
I’m in the midst of a cleaning frenzy and a brisket study. It’s the pre-Passover phase and while some are sunning in Sinai, touring Italy (friends of mine) or skiing in Switzerland (another friend) during the Passover school vacation that began today (teachers have to clean their houses too), I’m completely caught up in the spring cleaning version of cleaning for Passover and planning our seder menu.
For me, this is the fun part of hosting the seder this year, getting to plan a menu that involves checking out the various recipes out there, consulting with my friend Adeena, a food writer in New York, and thumbing through my collection of cookbooks to see what I may have missed over the years. I’m confirming that we are having brisket, the question is, which recipe?
As a dry run, we made a brisket this past weekend, buying our hunk of meat at one of the local supermarkets. That’s where the story comes in. Daniel went to buy the brisket, and as he likes to do, asked the advice of the meat counter butcher. He’d gone in with his Hebrew word for brisket all prepared, ‘chazeh’, which is also used for chicken breast meat, but the butcher convinced him that what Daniel meant and what he, the butcher, wanted to give him, were two different things.
“How do you want to cook it?” asked the butcher, an Arab guy.
“In the oven, for about two or three hours,” answered Daniel.
“It’s for Shabbat?” asked the butcher.
[This conversation was taking place on Thursday morning.]
“Yes, it’s for Shabbat, but we’re cooking it tonight,” said Daniel.
“That’s good, because once you cook this, it can be frozen and still taste good in 40 years,” said the butcher.
Who knew? He then proceeded to make small cuts in the meat, telling Daniel to stick cloves of garlic inside. The rest of the recipe including braising it, adding water, and then baking it for another hour at the most, with vegetables and onions. I modified his recipe slightly, braising it in oil, removing it and then sauteing onions, carrots and celery in the same pot, adding crushed tomatoes at the end, and then baking the whole lot for at least an hour and a half.
I have to say, it was stupendous, particularly when you were lucky enough to get a slice with pieces of the slow-cooked garlic inside. I’m debating between this recipe and a wine-based brisket for the seder. But we will definitely be returning to our Arab butcher and his patient, garlic-loving hands.
Foto Friday – Danny Yanai’s Israeli Walls
Filed under: A New Reality, Art, Crime, design, Environment, Foto Friday, General, History and Culture, Holidays, Israeliness, Picture of the Week
Israel is all about walls. Read the daily news headlines and you’ll come to believe that all Israeli walls are either Western or Separation. But Israel has other walls, more modest and colorful, less emotionally charged and politically burdensome. It’s these sorts of walls that photographer Danny Yanai has collected into into an online gallery entitled “Mainly Walls”.
Wall – Neve Tzedek Photo by Danny Yanai Israelpics.com
Yanai looks at walls both close up…
Lock – Peki’in Photo by Danny Yanai Israelpics.com
And at arm’s length…
Wall – Tel Aviv Photo by Danny Yanai Israelpics.com
There are walls that depict a slice of life…
Wall – Tel Aviv Mural by Rami Meiri. Photo by Danny Yanai Israelpics.com
A city’s extreme energy…
Wall – Tel Aviv Photo by Danny Yanai Israelpics.com
It’s history…
Wall – Tel Aviv Photo by Danny Yanai Israelpics.com
Even it’s seamier side… or as Yanai puts it: “Shit happens”.
Wall – Tel Aviv Photo by Danny Yanai Israelpics.com
Danny Yanai specializes in documentary and geographical photography. His work is on display at the HP Israel offices in Raanana, and he has exhibited in both solo and group shows. Yanai has an extensive online gallery on a range of subjects, most recently the Kumbh-Mela festival in India. But perhaps the most moving series — and the most heartbreaking — is Baby Sivan Fighting For Life that documents the short life of his daughter who died of cancer last year. Sivan was treated at Hadassah Medical Center’s Department of Bone Marrow Transplantation And Cancer Immunotherapy and donations in her memory are gratefully acknowledged by the family.
The week that was
Sometimes you can be lucky enough to have a week consisting of individual events that add up to something monumental – and if you’re even luckier, you may just realize it.
When you’re in the midst of it though, it can seem like running from from one event or task to another. But when you lay it out in print and read it through, you can then be struck by the thought that, yeah, this week was a keeper.
Sde Boker IDF ceremony.
And if you’re fortunate enough to be able to sit back a few decades from now with enough faculties to recall what you did with your life, this is the kind of week that you can look back and smile at, and realize just how fortunate you were.
Let’s start on Saturday night, when my buddy Alan organized a ‘Songs of Freedom and Liberation’ night at our Conservative shul, in the spirit of the hootenanies of the ’60s. Among the highlights for me were getting to sing Dylan’s “Chimes of Freedom” backed by Harvey Brooks on electric bass guitar. Harvey’s a rock & roll hall of famer who recently made aliya from the US, and as I told the crowd, he may have played with Hendrix, Mike Bloomfield and Stephen Stills, but he had never played with anyone of the caliber of the folks gathered on our stage.
The other highlight was getting to play with my son Koby, who lit up the finale of the evening – Neil Young’s “Rockin’ in the Free World” with an explosive guitar solo. I was proud beyond words.
That pride carried over into Monday night, when Koby’s own band performed at a battle of the bands in Jerusalem to raise money for the Make a Wish Foundation which helps cancer-stricken children realize their dreams. With American Idol-style judges including gifted rock pianist Shlomi Shaban, Koby’s band was awarded 3rd place, and the parental pride rose even higher.
On Wednesday, it was a three hours to and from Sde Boker in the Negev for the swearing in ceremony of my daughter’s army unit upon completion of their basic training. Against a stunning desert backdrop, she and her comrades were awarded their rifles and their own Tanach in a moving ceremony that was followed by a rendition of ‘Hatikva.’
Third graders do Pessah.
There was another version of ‘Hatikva’ sung on Friday morning, at the pre-Pessah show put on by my son’s third grade class. Chronicling the Exodus from Egypt in a modern TV news approach, the show was dedicated to captive soldier Gilad Schalit, who’s about to spend his third Seder in Hamas captivity.
Singing ‘Hatikva’ the second time was just as emotional as at the army ceremony. Even though I’ve lived here for a quarter century, it’s only recently that the anthem has struck resonance with me, and during both renditions this week, I silently said thanks that I was raising my children in Israel.
In between all those activities, I actually found time to work a little – including sitting down for an hour interview with Natan Sharansky, the chairman of the Jewish Agency and the celebrated former Prisoner of Zion. And I even got some quality New York Times crossword puzzle time in with my beloved wife, and even, even to to do a little Pessah cleaning.
Just another week in Israel? Or my ‘best’ week? Either way, I’m lucky I can step back for a second and appreciate it.
Running the marathon – Israeli style
My wife Jody and I ran the 10K in the Jerusalem Half Marathon today. I’ve been running 3-4 times a week for over a decade already, but never in a competitive race. We didn’t come in first, but we were satisfied with a respectable time of just over an hour.
We arrived at the athletic stadium at Hebrew University’s Givat Ram campus at 9:00 AM, picked up our number plates (see my picture), our plastic shoe dongles (to electronically read our finishing time) and a couple of free granola bars, before sitting back to survey the scene.
There must have been close to 3,000 participants for both the 10K and the full half marathon (26 kilometers). Some were practicing loops around the track, others milling around in their spandex shorts and tops. There was a preponderance of good looks and buffed bodies.
I imagine this must be what the pre-race environment looks like at any competition around the world. But there were a few uniquely Israeli elements, too.
The first was a group of runners for charity, raising money for Shalva, the Association for Mentally and Physically Challenged Children in Israel. The fundraisers, decked out in white t-shirts with the Shalva insignia, were surrounded by kids from the program, some of whom played percussion in a small band crooning Israeli pop songs.
Music was another reminder of where we were. It seems that every event or ceremony in Israel is infused by Shlomo Artzi classics. At our son’s swearing in ceremony for the army last year, it was “Uf Gozal” – “Fly Little One” (see my post here). Today, “Kmo Az (“Like Then” – lyrics here).
Then there were the soldiers: hundreds of them, many decked out in full uniform which they peeled off prior to running, laying their rifles carefully next to their kitbags on the bleachers.
At just before 10:00 AM, we lined up at the starting line, adrenaline pumping. I had been warned not to run too fast at the start, despite the excitement of the crowd. Jody and I were about two-thirds of the way back and, when the countdown reached one, we were quickly overtaken by speedier competitors from behind.
I kept to the recommendation though, gliding down the hill towards Nayot without overexerting myself. As the route neared the Gan Sacher park, I heard a loud whooping noise coming from behind me. A sea of red was approaching.
It was a group of hundreds of army parachuters running, playing, kibitzing. They had bottles of water, which they rained on their compatriots. I had no choice but to stand aside and let them pass. As they did, I saw the words on the backs of their t’s – “Achrei” – “Follow Me.”
At about the halfway mark I decided this slow and steady approach was not serving me well. Jody was already way ahead. We were headed up a hill from the park to the Israel Museum. I do particularly well on hills. I ratcheted up my speed and started passing runners who were temporarily walking as they trudged along. It felt good.
Before long, I could see Jody up ahead. I ran faster, reaching her, giving her a grin before sprinting forward. But my energy wasn’t endless, and we eventually ran side-by-side, actually holding hands as we crossed the finish line some 20 minutes later.
Sweat dripping on this warm spring morning, we felt a profound sense of accomplishment as we picked up our complementary popsicles and commemorative medals. Nearby, the parachutists were on the ground, doing push ups, still whooping and having a grand time.
For me, the marathon has a special significance. A year ago, I was in California for my father’s funeral while the race was taking place back home. He had died very quickly after being diagnosed with lymphoma less than three weeks earlier. I had still been training for the race only days before I hopped on the plane.
My father had polio as a child and was confined to a wheelchair in his later years. As I ran the 10K, I imagined he would have been proud of me for taking on such a challenge. It was nevertheless a bittersweet triumph, a sad reminder of a painful milestone.
Will we be back at the Jerusalem marathon next year? We certainly hope so. Or maybe even before that. The Tel Aviv Marathon is coming up May 14. See you there?
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