What exactly is Loof?

Ever wonder what comes in a can, could be beef or chicken, is kosher, and has a pale pink colour? If you answered yes, you’re not alone. From soldiers with their combat rations (manot krav) to the more adventurous gastronomic explorers, the lore and legend of Loof is well known. I searched for loof on Google and found 964,000 results; someone must be searching the internet for more information. Many try to explain away the inherent complexities of what exactly loof is as the Israeli equivalent of spam. This could not be further from the truth. Loof comes in two varieties commonly found the supermarket, “beef” and “chicken”. It’s interesting that both the “beef” and “chicken” cans have the same picture on the label and more or less the same smell and consistency. Unlike spam, the ingredients are a mystery, and unlike spam, loof is very kosher. I have heard an urban legend of soldiers eating loof in Lebanon recently which was left over from the supplies earmarked for Lebanon twenty years ago. It seems that eating loof practically older than you are doesn’t actually kill you, and as far as the packing, contents and smell, the makers stick to tradition after all these years. It seems to be indestructible; thousands of years from now, archeologists will find cans which are still ready to eat. I wonder what they will think of us, based on those small cans? Loof is a pinkish mass resembling canned pet food, and comes out of the can with a resounding “Shhhllllluuurpppp!” as it slides, wiggling, onto your plate. There are many opinions as to how this delicacy should be eaten, fried, seasoned, roasted, and cold out of the can, the list goes on. It’s a versatile manna, and ready to be molded into the most creative of recipes. By volume and weight, it seems that it is approximately the same price as the leading band of cat food; I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, perhaps they get their “beef” from the same “farm”. Since loof is kosher, and has ingredients listed on the side of the can, I can’t imagine they put anything too terrible in there. They list the ingredients in the typical Israeli mystical fashion common to all cans: Beef, Preservatives. They don’t really explain what beef means, or what really is in there, its one of life’s big mysteries. I myself like picking out the small bits of identifiable “meat” and feeding the rest to the accumulated cats, who take one whiff of the potent smell and come running. I have noticed several times how the allure of the loof scent, which is ordinarily repugnant to humans, is like sniffing crack cocaine for cats. They are enthralled by the scent, fighting just to approach. The people in the vicinity however, are running while holding their noses and shielding their eyes. Loof isn’t for everyone, but everyone should try it at least once. Perhaps it’s like a rite of passage, live to tell about it, and have a long life.

Exploding Mazola

We discovered something interesting this morning while making French toast for breakfast. Mazola margarine with olive oil in it can and will spontaneously combust into a huge fireball when coming in close proximity of the stovetop. It seems that even a small amount, when exposed to an open flame, turns into a conflagration in the pan. In the end, nothing happened, and neither of us lost any hair. I think it was reminiscent of a Chinese restaurant, huge fireballs accompany the meal. I think properly branded; Mazola with olive oil could include a slogan like: “Now with fireballs ten times bigger than the leading brand of margarine” or “Explodes faster than your waistline!” Maybe next time we will stick with the canned tuna, it’s safer.

Yourself Fitness

We just tried the Yourself!Fitness program (http://www.yourselffitness.com/) and after the initial evaluation, we both set up profiles and did a work out. Some of the moves were hard to keep up with, but the program asks you how it was and adjusts the workout to suit. Everything is burning now, and I think I feel pain in places I didn’t know I had muscles, but its all good practice. As the evaluation let me know “it may be a good idea to lose some weight”. I found it interesting that the bar on the bottom shows you how much time you have left for each exercise, how much time is left to the workout, and what’s coming next. I also like that you can pick diffrent locations, its nice to choose what kind of mood youre in. You can also customize the music, workout plan and tons of other things making it much more "real". Overall, we both enjoyed it and if we stick to it, I am sure its going to be useful. Since I go to the army in five weeks from today, and as I have now found out, am totally out of shape, Mya (the virtual trainer) is going to be my new best friend. There are also recipes and progress tracking, but I prefer pizza to Chilean sea bass.

A fire in Perls!

The bad news is farther down, but till we get there, I had to ask: “Where will I get my pepperoni from now?” From the deep fried greeben, to the pepperoni and pickles, Perl’s is always home. The women behind the counter never age; they seem as old now as they did a decade ago. The food is always consistent, and no matter what, they will be completely sold out of everything except for packages of lungs and liver on a Friday. The smell of the store makes me hungry, as my friend George put it “it smells like a morgue” but I knew its potential. From the back room always emerges trays of meat, deli and prepared foods. It was sometimes strange or spicy, I remember the time I picked up the wrong container of hummus and mustard and both were searingly spicy. Pepper steaks, breaded chicken, pickles and pepperoni were only a few of the reasons we kept coming back for years and years. Even after we had moved cities, and then continents, Perl’s was always a place to come back to and relive the childhood experience of peering into the glass display case hoping the woman behind the counter would offer a taste. Steaks on the grill, teriyaki lamb, hot dogs, hamburgers, and meat filled buns are all happy memories. The rice with chicken, chicken stuffed rice and a dozen types of mystery meat salami are all part of the meat mosaic. Smoked, sauced, and sautéed, the variety was immense and the new creations always interesting. When did we ever have a function, from back yard BBQ to a fancy dinner that Perl’s didn’t attend? From chulent to soup, their food was everywhere. Coming in to Perl’s, everyone knew your name (which may have meant I went there just a tad too often), and someone always asked “so young man, what can I get you? A pound of salami? Some pepperoni? Try something new?”. Perl’s didn’t wait for Chanukah to deep fry latkes and liver knishes; you could enjoy a hot one or pop it into the microwave all year round. No matter where I went and the places I have been, Perl’s is the best meat store the world over in my experience. I remember going to get that baseball cap at Bais Burger. It was always a problem seeing as you got it free with a minimum order of $100, and everything on the menu was so cheap. I think we only hit the jackpot once, before we went on a long drive up north and needed chicken nourishment for the road. A dozen burgers, fries, sandwiches, hot dogs and jumbos later, we had one Bais Burger hat, which I am sure belongs on the same wall as the “I ate a Kilo Burger” T shirt from Normans. The famous heart attach on a bun was always good, two burger patties, roasted pastrami and toppings. I think the first time I saw shmaltz in a jar was in Perl’s, as was the first time I found out you can eat chicken skin and lungs as a snack. Sometimes the food seemed to transcend cultural boundaries, food from the old country, food from today, and guessing at what type of meat nosh we will be eating tomorrow. I don’t think it’s a great experience for the heart, and undoubtedly not great for the waistline, but an occasional indulgence for the palate is understandable, its Perl’s after all. Its hard to sum up the allure of a store which seems like just another butcher shop, in reality its so much more. Maybe like all things, this too has to eventually fade away into the realm of imagination. I was hoping this memory of my childhood would be around a lot longer, so one day I could buy my kid his first latke in July as I remember my parents doing for me so long ago.

From the Globe and Mail:

North York butcher shop burned in four-alarm fire: A major fire burned for hours last evening at a butcher shop in the former North York. Fire broke out shortly before dark at a building near Lawrence Avenue and Bathurst Street. A total of 38 units were dispatched and the blaze grew into a four-alarm fire before it was brought under control. The business, Perl's Meat & Delicatessen Products, was not open and no one was injured.

Grey Socks: My Army Adventure Begins

The adventure all began with a pair of thick woolen socks. While shopping in Shuk HaCarmel in Tel Aviv Friday, I spied them scrunched up in a corner, lying on a small shelf in the sock shop. Socks are the first item on my list of things to buy for the army, warm, thick, grey wool socks. I bought a couple pairs, and got a fifty percent discount from the sticker price. I think twenty shekels for two pairs is reasonable, but I have a feeling I could have negotiated for a better price. Of all the things I need to get before the army, socks seem like the most straightforward item on the list. I understand what I need to do with the socks, where they go and why. Other things on the list are a little more puzzling. Items on the list are varied, small items (matches), large (knapsack) and even esoteric (razor blades, even if you have a beard, shower sandals, and a watch strap). I have been asking friends how the two foot elastics to hold up pants’ cuffs and what they call a long shackle lock are used; I guess I will find out in the army. Most of the list seems fairly straightforward, featuring such items as a spare toothbrush for gun cleaning, shoelaces, duct tape, safety pins, a flash light and lots of cord for tying things. I found the most interesting item on the list “Toilet paper (absolutely essential)”. It seems that with key items like toilet paper, bringing your own is the best policy, and it’s probably better to be prepared and have some on hand. Another bonus listed in the chart was information about mailing letters; it seems that within Israel post is free. I don’t know how much time I will have for letter writing, and since it’s a small country I imagine I will be making it home every so often, but it’s still nice to know I can mail home a letter now and again. Within in the next six weeks or so I am going to be picking up everything else I need for the army. I feel that getting socks is the first step, now that they are sitting in my bag, going to the army seems all real.

The list they gave me is as follows below. I have another list of other items from the Mitgayasim book, which lists some additional items, but this seems to cover the basics.

Although the army takes care of all your basic physical needs, you will need to bring some personal equipment from home. The items recommended in the following list will go a long way toward facilitating your basic training and service.

• Personal first aid kit with bandaids (plasters,) mosquito repellent, aspirin and personal medications.
• Plastic bags to organize and separate your clothes and equipment as well as to keep everything dry and dust-free.
• Elastic (about 2 feet in length) for garters (gumiot) to hold up your pants' cuffs and also for eyeglasses.
• Pocket or draftsman's knife (olar) used for everything from opening packages to cutting materials.
• Razor blades (even if you have a beard,) matches and candles are required for basic training.
• Siddur, Talit, and Tefillin for observant soldiers; the army also supplies these upon request.
• Waterproof felt tip pen for marking all your army equipment with your name and serial number.
• Pen, paper, envelopes, and air letters (stamps are not necessary for domestic mail).
• Telephone telecards.
• Length of stout cord for a clothes line, holding up your pup tent, tying together blankets with loose equipment and a hundred other uses.
• Small flashlight.
• Toilet paper (absolutely essential).
• Small screwdriver for cleaning your weapon.
• Long shackle lock to lock your kit bag.
• Laundry soap for washing out socks and underwear when you can't go home on leave.
• Shoe polish, black or brown, depending on what branch you serve in.
• Safety pins for pinning tags on your uniform.
• Shower sandals (kafkafim).
• Extra gray socks, shoelaces and underwear.
• Toiletries and hand soap.
• A covered watch strap.
• An old toothbrush for cleaning your weapon.
• Electrical tape.
• Sheet (optional).
• Towel.

It is usually not necessary to have more than one set of civilian clothes with you.

In search of a bagel

The first call went something like this: “Good Morning, we would like to order bagels, lox and spreads for a dozen people, two dozen bagels, a salad platter, etc”. The order confirmed, we sat easy waiting for the time to pick it up. A couple hours later, we wanted to check on a detail of the veggie platter, wouldn’t it be a good idea to get some salad dips and maybe some chopped egg? Our second call resulted in another “sure, no problem” and everything was right as rain. On the way to the Moshav, we called a third time to make sure the store was kosher, something it may have been smart to check the first time, but in Israel its easy to assume based on the location it probably is. Assured everything was kosher, we hung up feeling satisfied (and hungry); our bagel plans were on track. Sitting in traffic for an hour from Tel Aviv, we began to worry the store might be closed by the time we got there, our fourth call confirmed our order, established the bagel place was open 24 hours a day, and we had nothing to worry about. After a quick stop on the Moshav to pick up my Dad, we headed to Modi’in and the bagel place.

I had a bad feeling when the bagel place (which is what it said on the sign) didn’t have a single bagel on display. Additionally, all the salads seemed to have been the type which come straight from a can and are used in “toast” or grilled cheese. Not deterred, we waltzed up to the counter and asked for our order. The girl behind the counter seemed puzzled and put us on the phone with the owner. “So” he asked, “when would like your order for? Bagels? We don’t really have them, but we can order then from Jerusalem for you.” The girl who took the order seemed in shock. Everything worked out in the end, we went to the supermarket and bought packages of lox, different cheeses and salad and together with the baked ziti Shira had made, it all came together. I guess four phone calls, orders and confirmations are not enough to establish the bagel place is actually a grilled cheese on bread place, and does not really deal in bagels. Oh well, we know for next time.

Perspectives on Winter

I think I know the exact moment winter started this year. I think it was Sunday, around 5am. I was standing at the bus stop in the pouring rain with my police jacket on checking busses for illegal workers coming into Israel from the territories. The policeman with me was soaking as well in the freezing rain. He turned to me and said: “Isn’t it such a bracha (blessing)?” He continued: “It’s so wonderful to work in the rain.” I guess in a place where even in the rainy season it doesn’t rain much, it’s refreshing to see someone feeling refreshed in a shower of blessings, rather than being in a dark, cold, downpour. We were in that bus stop for a few hours, coming out to check busses every ten minutes or so, it was quite an interesting morning. We did find a couple workers without permits and took them back to the checkpoint, as they put it at the station “It’s too rainy and cold to hold anyone today.” Maybe that will change one day when Modiin builds a proper lockup, but for now, the rain washes everything away.

Down at the checkpoint, there was a Yemenite guy who looked like he was ready to hit the beach. The soldiers were huddled up in their winter gear and looked freezing cold, this guy was walking through the checkpoint wearing flip flops, a tank top and shorts. It takes all kinds to figure out what winter really is here.

The Israeli Concept of Time

A couple weeks ago, when setting the date for the rifle range, the officer in charge of my course kept repeating, make sure you’re early for the shooting range, make sure you’re early. Five minutes early is better than a minute late. So on and so forth. I got the idea that it was extremely important to arrive on time. I woke up that morning at 5am and played a bit on the computer; I made breakfast with Moo, and got to the station a few minutes early, promptly at 8am. I signed in and asked the desk officer who I am going with. He said to wait a bit; the instructors were not even there yet. I went to go sit outside and enjoy the sunshine. There were half a dozen people waiting as well, most seemed closer to grade school than high school or army age. It seemed this was just another example of the “hurry up and wait” school of thought. We ended leaving the police station for the range at 9:30, after loading the police vans, finding ice for the drinks, picking up all the paperwork, etc. At the range, the same thing happened, apparently the signup list is not for who arrived on time, it’s for pushing to the front of the line. Even though I was not in a supermarket, it made it feel like Friday. Eventually, the instructors did their speeches to my group, and since by that time most everyone had cleared out, we had the place to ourselves and took our time. They let us practice with one clip first at 30 meters, and because I was confused with all the new Hebrew terminology and had the instructor screaming in my ear (to simulate a pressure filled situation), half my practice shots found other targets, the ones which did find the mark were all too high. Exasperated, the instructors took our small group of five and explained everything all over again, imbuing us with wisdom such as “if your nose isn’t smashed against the stock and pressing into your hand, you’re going to miss” and “don’t think, just shoot”. I also found “don’t spend too much time aiming, just find the target and shoot” interesting. The final round was half standing and half crouching, they dry drilled us a bunch of times to ensure we understood all the commands, and it went really great. I got 15/15 in the target at 30m, and got my license card. I got back to the station around 2pm with a newfound appreciation of “Israeli time”.