By Shahar Masori
SAN DIEGO — I remember my parents in Israel preparing for the traditional Shabbat dinner; they would start as early as Wednesday morning. My mother would take me and my little brother to the bustling market to gather all the fresh vegetables, fruits, and spices needed.
The colors and intoxicating aromas of the market were always a treat for my senses, with each stand offering a unique array of produce.
Meanwhile, my father would embark on his own important task, procuring four live chickens. He would take them to the shohet, the ritual slaughterer, adhering to the kosher laws. This was more than just a chore; it was a ritualistic journey that connected us to our heritage.
Afterward, my father would bring the chickens home, where the real work began. He would meticulously defeather, clean, and cut the chickens, ensuring they were ready for my mother’s culinary expertise.
By Thursday evening, my mother would begin the salting and koshering process, a meticulous procedure that highlighted the dedication and care put into every dish.
As the sun set on Thursday, the kitchen would transform into a miniature factory. My mother, with an apron wrapped around her and a look of determination on her face, would start the long preparation of various dishes. The fragrant smells of cooking would fill our home, a tantalizing preview of the feast to come. Each dish was a labor of love, crafted with the finest ingredients and the deepest respect for tradition.
By Friday evening, the table would be laden with a variety of magnificent dishes, each one a testament to the time, effort, and love poured into its preparation. The Shabbat candles would be lit, their soft glow casting a warm light over the gathering. We would sit together, enjoying not just the delicious food, but also the stories, songs, and shared moments that made these dinners so special. This was more than a meal; it was a celebration of family, tradition, and the joy of being together.
I’ve noticed since moving to this country in 2000 that American cuisine is incredibly diverse, reflecting the country’s multicultural population. From the fast-food joints that dot every cityscape to the mouthwatering barbecue traditions of the South, American food is a celebration of variety and innovation. Regional specialties like Southern comfort food, with its fried chicken, collard greens, and cornbread, speak to a history of blending African, Native American, and European culinary traditions.
Meanwhile, cities like New York and San Francisco offer a smorgasbord of international cuisines, thanks to their large immigrant populations.
In contrast, Israeli food culture is deeply rooted in Middle Eastern and Mediterranean traditions, with a strong emphasis on fresh, locally sourced ingredients. Dishes like hummus, falafel, and shakshuka are staples, each bursting with flavors that tell stories of ancient lands and diverse influences. The Israeli market, or shuk, is a vibrant place where the freshest fruits, vegetables, and spices are displayed in a colorful array, inviting shoppers to savor the sensory feast.
Communal meals are central to Israeli dining, reflecting the culture’s emphasis on family and community. It’s common to see large groups of friends and family gathered around tables, sharing a variety of dishes and enjoying each other’s company. This mirrors Israelis’ direct and engaged communication style. The act of sharing food is an extension of the open, passionate interactions that characterize Israeli social life.
In America, while communal meals are certainly cherished, there is also a strong tradition of individual portions and a more structured approach to dining. The typical American family might gather for a big Thanksgiving feast, but on a day-to-day basis, meals can often be quick and convenient, reflecting the fast-paced lifestyle many Americans lead. This aligns with the more formal and scheduled nature of American business and social interactions.
One of the joys of experiencing both cultures is seeing how food can bridge gaps and build connections. I remember hosting a barbecue for my Israeli friends when they visited the US. They were fascinated by the variety of dishes and the casual, backyard setting. Conversely, when I hosted an Israeli-style dinner in the US, my American friends were delighted by the flavors and the joy of sharing the endless dishes.
A significant difference between the two cultures is the time spent at the dinner table. Israelis tend to sit for much longer periods, engaging in deep conversations about various issues, singing together, and truly sharing each other’s time. It’s a leisurely, communal experience that extends far beyond the meal itself.
In contrast, American dining often has a more structured and efficient pace. Meals can be quicker, with an emphasis on eating and then moving on to the next activity on the schedule.
Living between these two culinary worlds has enriched my palate and deepened my appreciation for the cultural stories that food can tell. Whether it’s the comfort of an American burger or the zest of Israeli sabich, a pita sandwich typically stuffed with fried eggplant and a hard- boiled egg, each dish offers a delicious glimpse into the values and traditions of its people.
Bon appétit and beteavon!
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Shahar Masori was raised in Hadera, Israel, and immigrated to San Diego in 2000, where he helped build a balloon decor business and raised two sons.