Not always good for the heart but great for the soul.
By GREER FAY CASHMANShmulik Cohen(photo credit: STEVE LINDE)
In contrast to the many iconic bars, restaurants and coffee shops throughout the country that have permanently closed due to the economic upheavals caused by COVID-19 lockdowns, Shmulik Cohen, one of the most veteran restaurants in Tel Aviv, has managed to survive – the secret being tradition.While other restaurants experimented with nouvelle cuisine and various ethnic trends, Shmulik Cohen stuck to a traditional East European menu in which there might be minor disagreements over whether dishes should be sweet or savory, but where anyone with an East European mother or grandmother would feel very much at home.Few things in life are as nostalgic as the palate. The taste of foods we ate at our parents' and grandparents' tables as we were growing up remain locked in that part of our brain in which taste is preserved. We just have to remember some of the things we dearly loved to eat and we can almost taste them.Shmulik Cohen's reputation is well known among lovers of the East European kitchen. I had been dying to go there for years, but it's in a part of Jaffa that never coincided with my travel plans, until the Russian Embassy decided to hold its National Day reception close by.Jerusalem Report editor Steve Linde, who is of Lithuanian extraction and who recently had a milestone birthday, was also at the reception, do I suggested that we celebrate his birthday – albeit belatedly – and offered to buy him dinner.He managed to resist the buffet at the reception, and off we went to the restaurant in one of the most southern industrial areas of Jaffa.Shmulik Cohen is a four-generation enterprise that was launched in 1936 by Shmulik's mother, Rivka, as a place where local workmen could get a decent meal. However, Shmulik and his wife, Carmella, actually ran the operation. Shmulik's daughter Tsipie, who had been running around the kitchen and the dining room since she was a toddler, took over from her parents, and was subsequently joined by her son Tomer.The restaurant still operates in its original premises, and most of the menu is derived from recipes handed down by Rivka Cohen and categorized as Jewish soul food.The whole idea is to give diners the feeling that they've come to a private home. It's what in Yiddish is known as heimish, which translates as homely, but means so much more. The tables are all set with crisp, snow-white table cloths, large white napkins and smaller paper serviettes, plus flatware and attractive china dishes.A relative newcomer to the table is the bottle of Alco-Gel. The walls are covered with large and small works of art by some of Israel's leading painters. The waitress overheard us admiring a signature item of Menashe Kadishman's. We were speaking to each other in English, although we had addressed her in Hebrew. She was serving people at the next table as we spoke, but turned around to tell us in English that all the artists whose works were on display had eaten there. She didn't say, but left us with the impression that the paintings had been in lieu of payment for meals.THE MENUS are in Hebrew, English and Russian, indicating the diversity of the clientele.We arrived at around 8.15 p.m., at which time the downstairs area was almost full, but other diners came in after us.There was only one waitress, but she was unpressured, totally professional, unfailingly polite to each and every diner, and no one had to wait for long to receive what they had ordered.When dining out, I seldom order anything that I can eat at home. So I gave the gefilte fish, the various herring options and the egg salad a miss. I also didn't fancy the p'tcha, also known as guller, or calf's foot jelly, but the man at the next table had specifically come for this item and devoured it with relish. Usually, it is served square, and is somewhat wobbly on the plate. But this time it was round and solid, and there was enough there to be a meal unto itself. It was priced at NIS36.But I'm a sucker for chopped liver, and so is Steve, and similarly I could not resist something that I had not eaten for years: grivalach.To the uninitiated, grivalach, also known as gribenes, are the cracklings left over from rendered chicken or goose fat. They are decidedly not good for the heart, but good for the soul – and very filling. Steve and I dug into them with gusto. Fortunately, I had ordered only one helping (NIS 38), but we couldn't finish it, just as we could not finish the amazing full-flavored chopped liver (NIS 34), which though very smooth, was nothing like pate.There was pure bliss reflected on both of our faces. It was just as well that Steve had opted to forgo an entrée, and had eaten part of mine – because it would have been a waste, as neither of us is inclined to take home doggie bags, though a family at a very long table did take home a very large doggie bag. It was an intriguing family in that most of the men were bearded with sidelocks and dressed in the garb of the ultra-Orthodox, while most of the women came in jeans and sleeveless tops. But they all obviously enjoyed each other's company. Family is, after all, family, and what better place to come together than one redolent with Jewish tradition.Steve chose to start his meal with soup. There was only one kind of soup: chicken broth which could be ordered without any extras (NIS 28), with kreplach (NIS 35), kneidlach (matzah balls) (NIS 32), noodles (NIS 30), or a mixture of all three (NIS 38). For readers who have not yet sampled kreplach, they are a kind of Jewish ravioli, but larger than the Italian ravioli and shaped like a triangle instead of a square, with a spicy meat filling often enhanced by fried onions.While we were perusing the menu, the waitress brought bread and crisps to the table, as well as small bowls of chick peas – known as arbis in Yiddish, and traditionally eaten to celebrate the birth of a first-born male child - red horseradish, pickled beetroot, coleslaw and fresh vegetable salad.When Steve had trouble deciding which soup extra he wanted most, I suggested that he go for the mix. It arrived piping hot very soon after, accompanied by a jar of soup nuts.Having abandoned all thoughts of chicken soup with kneidlach for a solo Seder during lockdown, I opted for the kneidlach. There are at least two schools of thought about kneidlach. Some people think they should be light and fluffy. Others think they should be solid like cannon balls. These were some kind of a hybrid between the two, and they were just fine. Both Steve and I drooled over the soup, which was as flavorsome as could be. Steve said it tasted just like his grandmother's chicken soup – yet another example of nostalgia of the palate.BY THIS time we were both very full, and Steve said that he would not be able to eat a main course. Neither could I really, but I was not about to give up on the cholent and kishke. In December, we had gone to a well-known restaurant in Mea She’arim for cholent and kishke – which were a third of the price served on throw-away dishes – could not compare with that of Shmulik Cohen.At Shmulik Cohen, there was a choice of cholent and kishke without meat for NIS 82, and with meat for NIS 98. I chose the former. The cholent was barely moist, but really hit the spot, and was crowned by a sumptuous helping of kishke, though it seemed to me that this was the stuffing of the cholent and that the casing, which is the intestine of a cow, was missing. But it tasted good just the same. Steve had more than just a taste of this as well, but there was so much of it that we left half on the plate.The restaurant recommends that three people dining together order a mixed plate for NIS-365 which includes tongue, roast beef, goulash, chicken, meat balls and kishke. Considering how much food we were given in helpings for one, that looks like a bargain.The people at the next table were better eaters than we were. They also ordered dessert with choices of compote, chocolate mousse and the traditional lokshen kugel, a sweet noodle pudding.We were so satisfied with the ambience, the food and the service, that we gave the waitress a very handsome tip. She was certain that an error had made, as the amount was far in excess of the usual 15% to 20% of the bill. She pointed this out to the proprietor, who came to tell us that we had made a mistake. We assured him that we hadn't. We were very happy to put a big smile on the face of the waitress, and we were also delighted with the integrity of both the waitress and the proprietor.Shmulik CohenGlatt Kosher Mehadrin – Tel Aviv Rabbinate146 Herzl Street, Tel Aviv-Jaffa03-681-0222
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