Even if there really was such a thing in the past, I am not sure that there is still a real competition between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. Like quite a few countries in the world, the two central cities simply declared victory, separated forces in a long process, lowered the volume and made sure to mainly maintain internal pride, seasoned with external disdain. These are not materials for a fight, just folkloristic enmity that only interests those who, well, are interested in such nonsense.
It is impossible, and I forbid I do not mean to, to compare local kitchens and cooking areas. This is not Italy, for all the sadness in the matter, and there is really no crossing of food borders from district to district. You can shout until tomorrow fire-stove and peep, no one really cares.הצגת פוסט זה באינסטגרם
But what does care, and is felt, and even marks boundaries, is the urban street food. True, cosmopolitanism blurs diagnoses and brings tastes closer, but Tel Aviv and Jerusalem still manage to maintain an independent, distinct experience. One, to generalize relatively crudely, is a trendological predator and a volcano that erupts every few weeks with a volcano of a different hue.
The second one, probably outside the bustling complex that is Mahane Yehuda Market, still rides on its myths, nurtures them, makes sure to preserve what needs to be preserved. And because of all these, the landing of the Asada camp in the middle of Tel Aviv is so interesting.
Eti and Yaron Jospe's fast meat eatery has been operating for about three years on the outskirts of the Jerusalem market, adjacent to the excellent Black Iron restaurant which is also owned by them, thus maintaining one of the best carnivore corners in Israel. Theoretically, it is possible to start the day in Asada with lunch, and continue to Iron for the evening. It is possible, and then only requires recovery time and an appointment with the nearest cardiologist. In practice, people do this and report that along with accelerated heartbeats, accelerated smiles have also developed. The writer is not a doctor, but he recommends.
And so, with the establishment of the mechanism in Jerusalem, a natural development to the middle point in Modi'in, the couple reached the real jungle of Israeli street food, which is Rabin Square. And inside the jungle, a pedestrian path that is known for its lethality, in the form of the Street of the Kings of Israel. And in the middle of the street, an untamed, unmapped and unmarked clearing. Welcome to the 8 Kings of Israel.
The menu is tight in size but excellent in its options, based mainly on sandwiches in a braided challah bun but knows how to place loaded trays in front of those who come to eat there.
There's an asada here (long-grilled asado meat sandwich, NIS 58), steak and eggs (NIS 72), Argentine Milanese (that is, beef schnitzel, with egg salad, NIS 56), a chicken schnitzel sandwich, of course, with fried eggplant Of course-of course (NIS 52), smoked short rib with mint-citrus aioli (NIS 68), and also a vegan option based on the new meat of Redifine Meat (NIS 56).
The platters add to these asada animal style (the same asado meat, with chunky potato chips, rocket, crispy onion, and roasted tomato, NIS 68), a ketogenic platter that replaces potatoes with roasted cabbage, the two versions of schnitzel, brisket Grilled chicken (with strips of cabbage and coleslaw style vegetables, NIS 52), chorizos (NIS 66) and smoked brisket (with fries and egg salad, NIS 76).
The story here is fast and professional, from the kiosk positions that were able to clear throughout Israel service time and queue time, to the people at the counter. The sandwiches themselves, by the way, line up and are packed in a kind of hard (and perishable) cardboard roll that alone deserves a Nobel Prize for the investment and thought, and especially for the ability to put a whole sandwich in your hands even after Walt's messengers tried very hard - or so it seems to an outside observer - to challenge him . Yes, we will use "challenge" because other expressions, while certainly appropriate here, would lead to a mess.
The short rib sandwich was the first to be opened, coming out of the mythical Galilee into the world air, only to be a strategic elimination target. The strips of meat are thin, the smokins are very delicate and everything else - crunchy vegetables and pickled cucumber, mint aioli and the same halati wonder - complimented without stealing the show.
A chicken schnitzel sandwich was next, placing a huge star in front of the eyes (and teeth) and shouting "enough, you can't see any more sick schnitzel".
But the point is that it is possible, and it is not for nothing that it is one of the most popular combinations in our places, certainly when it is made like this. Fried eggplant, moderately greasy and plump, rocket leaves and crispy fried onions, an excellent tahini and salsa jus, schnitzel that was fried on the spot and cut immediately and jumped right in after that, and the shell itself - soft but not submissive, with a final edge that absorbed everything into it, for a delicious climax.
The asada sandwich, the staple of the asada camp if it wasn't obvious from the name itself, also runs a fairly well-worn path that makes you yawn like all of you at the words "decomposed meat". Even in his case, it depends on meat and depends on hands and depends on the standard of place. These - the meat and the standard and especially the hands - of the healers cause you to drip jubilant flesh from the sandwich to the wrapping paper, and then cause an instinctive, involuntary, and victorious movement, which is all about wiping those drops with the remains of challah that you managed to save from a madman. admits guilt.
I can't guess - maybe betting is the more accurate word in this case - what the cursed address will produce this time, and if the Asada camp will manage to laugh at it in the white of the zip code. There were great places here that didn't last, and mediocre places that survived twice as long, so there's no point in maintaining this particular voodoo nonsense. I'm also short of deciding which city knows how to give you better food, and better streets, and street food that matches both of them in absolute eye-lip blinks. Both are great, of course, and both can get along with each other. We have enough, too much, of the rest of the mess and poison these days, thank you very much. It is better to open a table.
Asada Camp, Malki Israel 8, Rabin Square, Tel Aviv, 077-3627518