NOT KEEPING SCORE

Freelancing abroad in the Holy Land for 18 days

Woke up at 6 to an already hot, hazy morning. The sun was rising over Tel Aviv, and the air smelled like wet clay. Dove-like birds chirped to my right, flitted around the rooftops and water towers at various buildings. Bits of deep green trees poking out between street openings which lay silent.

I made myself a cup of instant coffee, took the elevator down to the lobby, and discovered a breakfast spread like I’ve never seen before: watermelon, apples, grapes and some sort of bloated water-plum (delicious); feta cheese, mozzarella cheese, jack (?) cheese, brie, whipped goat cheese, cottage cheese and another cheese I couldn’t begin to describe; dill-cucumber-yogurt, tahini with something green, mayonnaise salad, “Israeli salad” (sliced tomato, cucumber, onion) and 3 kinds of salad-salad; pickled whitefish, salted herring and tuna; radish, jicima, tomatoes (cherry, sliced, and whole) and shredded carrot; 6 kinds of cereal, yogurt, granola, milk, fresh orange juice, grapefruit juice, tea and coffee.

THEN, on a separate table: 6 kinds of bread (sliced wheat, challah, loaves of rye, whole nut, french…etc.); walnuts, raisons, dried apricots, “figs” (which are tough mf-ers and will kick your ass if you think you can pry the flesh away from the pit); apple strudel, a pea-carrot-corn quiche, some raison cream thing that was like cheesecake for breakfast (I know, because I tried it); and last but not least something which I have no idea about, but can only be described as a tower of pistachio taffy.

I go on about this breakfast because it was — needless to say — a beautiful sight… and it wasn’t the only breakfast I had that morning.

Thinking I needed to walk it off, I asked the receptionist for a map of the city and some good places to walk to. See was more than helpful, and after grabbing tennis shoes and my newly rented cell phone, I headed south along the beach toward Jaffa.

I got about half way when a contact from a branding agency in Tel Aviv called me.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Uh… some where by the beach umbrellas?” I offered. He laughed: “What do you see nearby?” I described the setting.

“Hang on. I’m coming to get you.” Having never meet each other, I had no idea who to look for, what kind of car to expect, or where to wait. I figured he’d know enough to look for the lost American.

He pulled up and introduced himself - Ariel - and asked if I’d had breakfast yet? I said I had. No problem - we can grab a coffee then, he shrugged.

We drove to the border of Tel Aviv and Jaffo, to a cafe at the edge of the ocean. Inside, the hostess said there were no tables by the window or outside available - “you need a reservation usually just to eat here Saturday morning” Ariel explained - so he motioned for me to sit down where there was room.

He left again and I saw him gesturing to the hostess again. “Okay,” he said upon returning, ” we can sit here now” and ushered me to a prime window seat.

“Things can get done in Israel if you know how to ask for them,” he said with a smile.

Then he proceeded to order 6 mezze plates — roasted red peppers with whipped cheese, olive oil- stewed eggplant, cilantro and salmon, creamed herring…. — as well as fresh squeezed orange and carrot juice. Oh, and a coffee — which, it should be noted, was to be followed by two more cups of coffee later on.

“So welcome to Israel!” He said, with a sweeping gesture. “I am glad you come here for work!”

…Work?