On regular days, I make a conscious effort not to fixate on food, restaurants, and work perpetually. Unfortunately, my attempts are futile. I'm immersed in all things related to food, from morning till night. Rest eludes me as my mind remains preoccupied with culinary thoughts. Always. Except for now.
Recently, for the first time in years, my thoughts have not been focused on my gastronomic concerns. My mind is occupied with numerous thoughts of diverse kinds. However, the prevailing circumstances, grim as they are, dominate my newfound mental freedom.
What is happening is undoubtedly a historic event, reshaping reality and leaving an indelible mark on our souls. That Saturday morning slapped us with a grim and horrifying reality that will take time to revert to its former, less distressing state.
My mind is flooded with memories of my military service — Golani, 51st Battalion, Gaza, the Second Lebanon War, and then Gaza again. The service resurfaces randomly, accompanied by memories and experiences in no particular order, just fragments and moments. Television and websites broadcast numerous tales of heroism and tragedy, prompting my mind to return to Gaza and the battles we fought—our actions, what we witnessed, and those we lost.
Then, abruptly, my mind shifts, returning to what we ate during those times. I endured three weeks, and now, the wheel turns back.
It was December 2008, my last mission. We were stationed in a house in Gaza, and some of us gathered for a meal. "Finger rolls," mustard, ketchup, and small kabonos salamis —simple pleasures. With grimy fingers, we opened the dry buns, lightly heated them with a lighter, and relished the makeshift delicacy.
In that dire situation, it was astonishing how satisfying this humble bun could be—a fusion of a sausage toast in Sudoch with a dry hot dog from party stands, all for ten shekels.
My thoughts also go to Tom, my son, who will one day enlist. Before that, he will ask questions about the army. What do I share with him—war stories or tales of kabanos and buns? Or perhaps, do I withhold any narrative, sparing him the desire to know? Is that fair?
About two hours after that unconventional meal, nearing the end of my shift on the second floor, I spotted an armed terrorist rushing towards our house. I shot him in the chest; he fell. Another shot, and he exploded. He wore an explosive vest, and his remains were splattered on the nearby wall.
Explosions echoed downstairs. He was part of a trio, and I recognized them in time. The other two attacked our force from the back door. We engaged them, resulting in injuries, one severe. The officer and I confronted the terrorists alone, ending their lives at point-blank range.
Ensuring no further threats, we returned to evacuate the injured amid sniper and anti-tank fire. We reached an evacuation force that seemed an eternity away, then organized ourselves to leave the Strip. The friend survived, fully recovered, and the officer and I were acknowledged. I concluded that day with a wedding in Ramat Gan. Morning in Gaza, evening with Red Bull vodka at the Maccabiah village. This is the surreal reality of life in the State of Israel.
I lack answers to Tom's questions. He's still young, and we'll address that issue when we come to it. Meanwhile, for those finding themselves in Gaza these days (with a bun, kabanos, ketchup, and mustard), here's a recipe for a "war sandwich." It might not sound appealing from the outside, but in certain situations, it becomes a lifelong memory.
The "War Sandwich" Recipe:
Ingredients:
- A small, preferably dry, finger bun
- 2 small kabanos
- Personalized ketchup bag
- Personalized mustard bag
Preparation:
- Gently open the bun with your fingers; no need to wash hands. Heat its face with a lighter, bottom to top, with light side-to-side movements.
- Arrange the kabanos along the entire bun, ensuring a complementary alignment.
- Generously spread ketchup and mustard (the bun will stay dry; it's okay).
- Bon appétit, and take care.
The writer, Dor Even, is a chef. Alongside Mor Hazan, he manages Marluza, a seafood restaurant in the Carmel Market.