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These hands have been making pizza for 35 years. Is it any wonder she comes out like this?

If you close your eyes for a moment and let your heart be swept away in a guided imagery session, you may also feel how Nahalat Binyamin turns into a delicious piazza in a few minutes.

• pizza
• Binyamin
• Carmel Market
• Restaurants
• Tel Aviv Jaffa

Yaniv Granot

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It was, probably and without slipping into superlatives, one of the most elegant demonstrations in history, even in this year full of demonstrations. Fifteen Roman "brides" gathered near Fontana di Trevi, waited patiently for the media, and began to walk on their heels around the mythological square. The swarms of tourists were replaced by dozens of photographers and reporters, and the tossing of the cheesy coins into the water - a virtue for the thrower to return to the Italian capital - was converted into protest signs about the paralysis of the event industry in boot country. Then, one can easily imagine, the demonstrators proceeded - white dresses and matching summer umbrellas and all - to an equally elegant aperitif. Aprol is also a kind of consolation.

2,250 km away, and we do not even have it to console him. The event halls have been operating for a long time, and it is doubtful whether their protest required performances, costumes and screenplays. The few attempts to properly establish an aperitif did not succeed here, and even the Happy Hour that somehow survived now This is a late afternoon on the Nahalat Binyamin pedestrian mall in Tel Aviv - the closest here to the crooked and graceful tiles of the heart of Rome - and there are no white brides on the horizon, media greed for story or hope. What there is, however, is pizza. Sometimes that's all it takes .

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All in all, tables on a sidewalk that no one has ever been able to level tables on. When it gets dark, you can even close your eyes and hear the estate speak Italian

Roni Hebroni packed 35 years of flour and fire in the trunk, and moved from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv at the beginning of the year. The children passed, he told the food sections, and we came after them. The result is "Pizza Eighty-Five", a small place with a bit of a bar and some uneven tables on a sidewalk that no one has ever been able to level tables on, in the seam that connects the said sidewalk and the edge of the Carmel Market. When it gets dark, you can even close your eyes and hear the estate speak Italian.

The menu is centered, simple and self-assured, very far from the high volume in power of the food stalls in the market, and almost completely devoid of gimmicks. Two starters, four salads, 13 pizzas on a scale ranging from the yawning and bored to Greek and salted fish pizza, and one dessert. The general spirit broadcasts "Why is there no such place in the corner of every street intersection in Israel?". The dishes that arrived a few minutes later justified the question.

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It was a quick summer trip, a circular route that is not here right now from Ben Gurion Airport to Italy and from there to a small island in Greece, and back. Between us, that's all we want this August

We took an artichoke salad ("ah la romana, sun tomatoes and mozzarella", NIS 47), one margarita for sync (46) and "bianca zucchini" (zucchini, zucchini, bulgarian, mint oil and oregano, 62), added wine and waited very little before the table filled up.

First Salad - A deep enamel plate full of favorite Italian colors. Crispy green leaves, white of mozzarella, dried and greasy red tomatoes, and artichoke yellowish. So simple, so eliminated.

The margarita (medium in size and north) also didn’t try too hard, and it also succeeded just where every second pizzeria strains and sweats. Islands of melted cheese floated in a successful tomato sauce, and an excellent dough - crispy and brown at the edges, surprisingly sweet at the base - closed the bite.

The Bianca lifted this purposeful display just when we wanted to get a little out of the traditional cut boundaries - melted Bulgarian mix, zucchini carvings and zucchini cubes, mint oil reinforcements and the same great dough with a sweet aftertaste that keeps everything stable on the quick way here. It was a quick summer trip, a circular route that is not here right now from Ben Gurion Airport to Italy and from there to a small island in Greece, and back. Between us, that's all we want this August. This, and also the cops who ambushed secret fines on one of the most remote social streets. Where their work is really required.

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Every step in the moderate ascent from the beach to the depths of Tel Aviv increases the feeling of hunger that the salt and sand skies have bothered to develop. The options - sparse and screaming "tourist trap" in the first real estate line, crowded and tempting later - straighten a line with the belly and wink at her to stop. In this sense, "Pizza Eighty-Five" sits bull in the magic spot. Close enough to jump on it with flip-flops, detached enough for Swap experiences and let the day keep

moving.Add the all-too-blessed neighborhood, the quiet, romantic sidewalk and the hands that will soon close 40 years of dough, and you’ve got, there’s no other way to have fun with it, the silver platter.

"Pizza Eighty-Five", Mohliver 43, Tel Aviv

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