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The best pita in Tel Aviv is back in the boom (and we almost managed to beat the crazy turn)
Seven years in carbohydrate form were enough for Effie Raz to bring back to the city the mythological Sabih she needed.
Now all that remains is to take care of the queue and ignore the price
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Sabih
Tel Aviv Jaffa
Peacock
Yaniv Granot
Sunday, October 18, 2020, 8:00 p.m.
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Pop-up "Sabih 29" inside "Peacock", Tel Aviv (Yaniv Granot)
"This queue is small for me," I think to myself optimistically as I settle in at the end, "five people and I'm there. Not really what they made of it."
Social distance is maintained.
At least two meters separate the waiters, and I am convinced that this space also creates a relatively threatening optical illusion of reality.
The reality, by the way, is a narrow two-lane road, alongside an even narrower bike path, alongside a sidewalk that was too narrow 30 years ago, and a human TRX strip that stretches parallel to all this failed urban planning.
Five people for the most talked about pita in town?
Where's the tedious wait they promised me?
"Anyone who wants to wait inside is welcome," peeks one of the "peacock" people with a suggestion for the standing, "there is shade and chairs here and some air conditioning, and your turn will be saved."
It's a bit of a strange offer, five people as mentioned, and one is already approaching the stand.
What does he know I do not?
I began to suspect.
I pulled out a phone.
I opened a stopwatch.
Overall Sabih, how long has it been taking?
The answer is 5:40 minutes per serving.
340 seconds per pita.
Very far from the relatively sweetened urban standard of a fast street food strip.
It's passable when you first stand in front of the display case and pass those minutes on the way to the bite, but if you came like me and settled behind five customers, the result is an increasing hunger.
In numbers, by the way, five customers double five minutes and forty seconds per serving (assuming each customer orders only one pita, yes?) Gives almost half an hour of waiting.
No wonder we are offered an air conditioner?
Does not fall apart, does not give in, always survives
The pita that holds a whole meal in it
To the full article
The people were replaced by a remote control, the line became a telephone.
"Sabih 29" (Photos: Yaniv Granot)
The pita is no longer a pita, but a Tel Aviv street food mythology that arose from a long coma and returned to hover over the city.
Carbohydrate Phoenix, or more simply - Effie's Sabih
The said pita is no longer a pita, of course, but more in the direction of Tel Aviv street food mythology that arose from a long coma and returned to hover over the city.
Carbohydrate phoenix, or in a little less full words themselves - Effie Raz's Sabih.
The story is familiar and worn already, and its essence is "Sabih Frishman" and then "Sabih Tchernichovsky" and then long years of silence full of question marks and questions.
A few weeks ago, all of a sudden, he was back, in a sort of impromptu but meticulous day shift at a bar that never woke up before the sun went down.
The result is the same glass showcase, placed next to the main door, and one sign that reads "Sabih 29" without getting excited.
Yes, this 29 is exactly what you think it is and repress.
Either way, the same stubborn queue dissolved with the advent of the second closure, and the people were replaced by a new sign, with a telephone for deliveries.
No "Walt", no branding, no graphic design, even though someone bothered to draw an eggplant, perhaps as a wink to a time when Epic was Saturday, during which the whole world managed to think completely different things about eggplant.
Outside Ruthie Brodo, inside a perfect pizza
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To the full article
The defeat is not spontaneous, but complex ahead of time.
"Sabih 29"
This is a Sabih stand, no show is needed here, and no exhausting word games.
Mostly, by the way, not exhausting word games about Derby
I approach and ask for a dose from Effie's son.
The couple behind me turn to the master himself almost with a bow.
"Turn on your magic," they smile, "even Beethoven was not told what to do."
I hold back, but rolling my eyes almost cracks the glass.
The dance begins.
A father and son, forceps in one hand and pita in the other, are still trying to formulate an agreed-upon choreography.
It's not elegant, and the couple next to me is not helping.
He got there in each of the last four days.
She joined just today, perhaps to see why a human decides to eat her lunch for four days in a row.
There is also an attempt at humor, but I get a different vibe from Muffy.
I think he just wants to work on the dish quietly.
The son is more communicative, but for him too I give up Small Talk.
This is a Sabih stand, no show is needed here, and no exhausting word games.
Mostly, by the way, not exhausting word games about Derby.
The work continues.
A light spread of tahini, some parsley, topped with chunks of hard-boiled egg, and delicate, thin slices of eggplant, and a hint of potato, and drops of ambala, and God forbid.
Scaffolding after scaffolding, step by step, floor by floor.
And suddenly it is not a stand or a showcase or a crooked Tel Aviv street, but an artist workshop, face to face, that combines architecture and landscape design and sustainability and social responsibility.
Social responsibility to give already this defeat.
"wonderchild"
This burger has already driven Tel Aviv crazy, but it could be price related
To the full article
The pita lands in my hands after 28 minutes.
It is warm, soft and heavy.
From above is a painting by Jackson Pollock, if Jackson Pollock had known how to paint so deliciously.
The defeat is not spontaneous.
Effie and his son have already put it together for you.
The mouth takes a little of everything every time you approach.
This is exactly the intention, and this is exactly the execution.
Holistic and engineered pita, two words I had never linked to food before.
Does she justify the queue?
Is there any Sabih worth 29 shekels?
To me these are questions between man and place, but I will try to say so - there are no human beings and no place and no questions without such pitas.
"Maybe a booth will open in Dubai," the bartender laughs with me while waiting, "where they won't close us so quickly."
Effie hears the punch, smiles with his eyes only and returns to the display case in a half turn and without reacting.
He has more important things in his hands.
Sabih 29, Marmorek 14, Tel Aviv.
For reservations: 03-5607000
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