When a restaurant calms the latecomers.
In Kapiko (Photo: Matan Aviv)
Thursday evening, and the roads of central Tel Aviv are so busy that you decide to postpone the requested (that's how it always is, light rail, Huldai, Abak, Volt) and try to check the outburst.
A short rollover reveals a long demonstration, and the traffic lanes are painted at the same time in shades that were bright red even before everyone decided to enter the intersection together, no matter what.
What it will be is a traffic jam that brings out from me - even on two wheels - long and angry shouts into the helmet, and pirate navigation and builds arm muscles on the way to the destination.
A crazy half hour later, and only a few minutes before I'm embarrassingly late, I open the massive door of Bacafico, and enter.
Everyone is on their way, so the restaurant is half full, half empty, and mostly waiting.
There are places that would have entered from this situation straight to fluttering rooms, but here they smile in understanding.
"People called under pressure that they were late," said Naama, a manager who is much more than a manager, later, "so for the last hour we are mostly reassuring, telling them to drive carefully, and that we are waiting patiently."
Outside Neve Tzedek, inside Neve Tzedek in Italian.
The traffic flows as a series.
Spaghetti fantasy.
in Kafiko
View this post on Instagram
A post shared by Yaniv Granot (@yanivgranot)
"We worked hard and opened, and I got back my quiet island in the kitchen, and my love - to make food, and host people"
Zion Farjon, a Tripolitanian who tells everyone he is Italian, as he defines himself, has lived in the neighborhood for more than 25 years.
He touched it with nearby Okinawa and embarked on a delicious adventure with Dita Bornstein, until the retirement of the Kabbon priestess from Tel Aviv.
Thirty days later, he was already feeding people in "Bacapico" and telling everyone who asked for a translation of the name about a songbird in Italian.
"The building was supposed to be demolished, and I couldn't see it happening," he repeated, "We worked hard and opened, and I got back my quiet island in the kitchen, and my love - to make food, and host people."
Eight years since then, and the most professional neighborhood in the city is celebrating another winter, and another birthday, with a menu that is both a party and a non-party.
In other words - delicious food, and everything else is less important.
When everything is natural
The *place* of Shuk Lewinsky knows how to do everything
To the full article
Not like you ate.
In Kapiko (photo: Walla! system, Yaniv Garnot)
winter celebration
In Kapiko (photo: Walla! system, Yaniv Garnot)
The carbonara balls, the literal bread that stuns you right from the start, come back to live up to the fully fried spaghetti fantasy seconds later
There is, for example, sea bass sashimi here, but not like you've eaten anywhere, but with warm chestnut cream that is almost like a carob, there is mascarpone anioli and burnt eggplant, handmade of course, with a brown butter sauce, red wine and garlic confit, and also carbonara balls, the bread A literal one that stuns you from the word go, then goes back to fulfilling the fully fried spaghetti fantasy.
These are joined by dishes that speak "winter" fluently, from polenta to deep-flavored mushroom pans, from cinta and fettuccine to long stews that may not have known what the winter of 2023 holds, but they did know that lightning and thunder sometimes come from unexpected directions.
Of course, this celebration joins the regular menu of "Bacapico", the one that knows pasta and pizza, burrata and panzanella, creamy carbonara and crispy and indulgent arancini.
To know what she is and who she is.
in Kafiko
View this post on Instagram
A post shared by Yaniv Granot (@yanivgranot)
"Our main job, as I see it at least, is to give people good food"
"We wanted to go among the drops, pick up specials and test the reactions of our audience," said Farjon, "The polenta can now stick to steak and beef stock, but in the summer it will become a completely different dish, with mushrooms and asparagus, for example."
These and those, including well-crafted and well-planned cocktails (go for the Palermo Ouzo with almonds and green tea, an Italian-Greek vacation in a tall glass) and desserts that range from the classic (tiramisu) to the bacaro-classic (knapa), round out an experience that somehow thrives all this time beneath To the radar, in terms of a neighborhood secret that is guarded to the point of fanaticism.
"It's important for a restaurant to know what it is and who it is," describes Perjon, "We are approachable, we are rational, and our main job, as I see it at least, is to give people good food."
Open the door and enter.
In Kapiko (photo: Walla! system, Yaniv Garnot)
"This is my baby."
Farjon (Photo: Matan Aviv)
"Bakafico" does not use this worldview as a stepping stone, but goes out and investigates, questions and improves, constantly drawing a triangle whose vertices are Sicily, Casablanca and Tripoli, but whose base is Israel.
It may be impossible trigonometrically, but very real culinary.
"This is my baby. In the afternoon I'm at the sea, and in the evening I feed people," described Farjon, "we're always here, they'll always see our faces. For me, it's like they came to my house."
The way out clearly marks the end of that demonstration, and the (temporary) end of the traffic jams.
On the left, right in front of the door, six friends are celebrating exactly that, and probably a few other things as well.
Later, I understand from her that this is a permanent table, which is booked every Thursday at eight thirty for the same group.
They, I guess, don't need much to feel at home anymore.
Everyone else just has to open the door, and enter.
"Bakafico", 49 Shabazi, Tel Aviv, 03-6021111
Food
The food news
Tags
Neve Tzedek
pizza
Italian food
pasta
