The Shabbat Table: How Ancient Rituals Shape Modern Israeli Cuisine

Every Friday, hours before sundown, the streets of Tel Aviv empty as families gather to prepare for Shabbat. The aromas that drift from apartment windows tell a story of Jewish migration across centuries: cardamom from Baghdad, saffron from Tehran, cinnamon from Marrakech.

For chef Eyal Shani, the Shabbat table is the defining institution of Israeli culture. "We fought about everything — politics, religion, land. But we all come to the same table on Friday," he says. "The table is where we are one people."

Israeli food culture has undergone a remarkable transformation in the past two decades. What was once dismissed abroad as a culinary backwater — falafel and hummus, fine, but hardly a cuisine — is now the subject of breathless coverage in every major food publication.

The Mizrahi Renaissance

Central to this story is the belated recognition of Mizrahi cooking — the cuisines of Jews from Arab lands, Iran, and North Africa — which for decades was overshadowed by the Ashkenazi establishment. Today, restaurants serving Iraqi kubbeh, Libyan bazin, and Moroccan dafina are celebrated alongside the fine-dining establishments of Tel Aviv.

"Our grandmothers cooked this food in poverty and shame," says food writer Ruthie Rousso. "Now their grandchildren are making it in Michelin-starred kitchens. That is a kind of justice."