Promised land

Imagine, if you will, a small house, painted the lightest of greens, built on a hill in the Galil. On your left grows a fig tree with its sweet, perfectly shaped fruit; on your right a grape vine covers a pergola, heavy clusters hanging down above your head. A little further in the yard there are olive trees, their fruit small and dark green. From where you sit, you have a lovely view of the hills and mountains of the Galil. The heat of the day doesn't bother you because A. You're sitting in the shade and B. There's a light refreshing breeze. 

The owner of the place approaches with two wooden platters. On one, there's a small pizza; on the other, a pesto and tomato foccacia. Both have been baked a few minutes ago. You're almost done with the heavenly breads when the guy appears again. This time he brings herb omelets, a cheese platter with labaneh drenched in olive oil and za'atar, a basket of whole grain baby pitas and grain topped small rolls, another wooden server with sliced cucumbers, quartered tomatoes, shredded lettuce, strips of peppers, julienne carrots and kohlrabi, all sprinkled with toasted sunflower seeds, small bowls of green olives, Tahini, dotted with parsley, smoky flavored Baba Ganoush, lightly pickled beets, butter, two kinds of jam (peaches and pears), a carafe of lemonade and iced chocolate milk. When asked, he shyly admits that everything is home made. A simple tasting verifies the statement. 

When we couldn't eat another bite (and hubby finished licking clean a second bowl of pear jam), here comes the owner again with a plate of sliced, ice cold melon of a type I am not familiar with. Hubby points to the grape clusters hanging practically over our heads and asks if we could possibly cut one down. The owner calmly reaches up and cuts down a large cluster, washes it under the faucet at the edge of the small yard and brings it over. The grapes, pale green and warm from the sun are sweet and juicy. The puddle of joy that used to be yours truly contemplates the possibility of never leaving this perfect place, where the verse "Each under his grape vine and under his fig tree" so beautifully became a reality.

In this week's parasha, Moshe makes some pretty exciting promises. If you simply keep the rules we have discussed, G-d will love you and give you all sorts of blessings. There will be no disease, no trouble, no suffering. There will be plenty of harvests; both in the fields and orchards and in the homes and farms. And, just to drive the point home, Moshe says (D'varim chapter 8, verses 7-9): G-d is bringing you to a wonderful land. A land with plenty of water in the valleys and in the mountains. A land of wheat and barley, grapevine and fig and pomegranate, of olives and honey. A land where you will not have to eat a bread of affliction because you will want for nothing.

Sitting in the charming yard of Bait 77, we could see with our own eyes how this promise came true. However, we must not forget that we are G-d's partners. For many centuries, this same land was desolate. All these trees grew here, for sure, but the land itself was in bad shape. Desert, swamps, neglect and disease were everywhere. It took us, the Jews, and our determination and our strong belief in our right to this land to turn it into the paradise it is today. Moshav Amirim (where Bait 77 is located) was made possible by G-d's blessings of a land flowing with all kind of good things and by the vision and hard work of the people who loved it enough to want to make it the garden of Eden it can become.

And it's not just in the Galil. The house we're staying in is located in the Sharon and when I need lemon juice, I send hubby next door to pick a few lemons; when I need rosemary for the little potatoes, I send my daughter out to the street to pick some from the bushes that grow everywhere. There are pomegranate trees and olive trees and fig trees along the route I take in the morning, on my way to buy milk and bread. And, while Moshe listed all kinds of good things, he couldn't possibly envision a time when passion-fruit bushes will grow everywhere like a weed. When hubby found out about this, he was sure he had died and gone to heaven. About 50% of his diet here is passion-fruit that he has picked himself. He is very, very happy. 

 Baby Potatoes

 I was busy this week. Breathing in lungfuls of fresh Galil air and moaning with pleasure at each bite. So, having little time for complicated recipes, here is the quickest recipe ever. All you need is a bag of tiny potatoes, which in Israel one can buy at the supermarket. It holds about 2 pounds or so of white, very small potatoes (each potato can be consumed in one or two bites). To this I added a generous amount of olive oil (at least a 1/4 cup), coarse salt and lots of fresh rosemary, chopped (leaves from about 2 or 3 large branches). Then I baked it in a large pan (one in which the potatoes can fit comfortably in one layer) at about 425F for an hour until the potatoes are done (when you can easily stick a fork in them and the skins are a little wrinkled). This will serve at least 8 people.

Or, you could make the potatoes without the rosemary and when they are done, add some creamy sauce (like pesto with cream and Parmesan) and reheat the whole thing. This version, however, will only serve one or two people because it is way too yummy to share.



And if you ever find yourself in the Galil, do yourself a favor and stop at Moshav Amirim, look for Bait 77 and give yourself the gift of the simple pleasures that were made possible by G-d's promise and G-d's people.

Bait 77;  telelphone: 04-6980984;  www.bait77.com