(This was initially published in an email update in March of 2023)
Today: An unanticipated lunch. Two blocks away a wall has a hole with a couple tables and some vegetables behind a sneeze guard. No menu. A Yemenite grandma outside drinking coffee. Nothing else.
I walk in to look around, and ask what the story is. Grandma shows me a little gas burner where she makes Yemenite pitot. She explains that usually this is made to soak up soup. Her twist is that she cooks an egg on it. 28 shekels.
I'm on my way home from a yoga studio, and have only a 20 shekel note in my pocket. She says Hey, it's good luck, sit down. Singing along to Phil Collins on the radio she cooks up a hot meal: An egg or two cooked between two Yemenite pitot, a freshly made spicy salsa, diced cucumber, tomato and pepper. Hot and tasty. She recalls that Phil Collins was a member of the group Genesis, and recounts that he played in Israel some years back, but she decided not to go. Some famous American chef visited years ago, and there are pictures of the two of them on the wall. Also a note from Henry Winkler (the Fonz) written on a napkin.
I hadn't planned to eat lunch out, but that happened.