(written for eLuna Website)

Restaurant review:

Caffit, Emek Refaim Street, German Colony, Jerusalem.

In the Valley of the Ghosts, half a block from the Nazi cemetery, is the "in" place to be. That's Jerusalem for you.

    The three secrets to success are said to be "location, location, location," and in the capital, that means Emek Refaim Street. Its quirky history, and spooky name, hark from the Scriptures; the Templar cemetery came later. (The German sect, outspokenly pro-Nazi during World War II, was deported en masse, though the dead were allowed to stay.)
    Caffit, the innest of the in places here in German Colony, is a tremendous success, and not just because of its plum location. Listen in on the conversations around the little wooden tables, and you get an idea ...

    "Can you believe the service here?..."

    "I'll have the Oreganato..." 

    "These people really know how to run a joint..."

    "Oreganato for all of us, please..."

    "Oh, man, the food here ..."

    "The guy in the blue shirt over there, he's an actor; the old lady in the corner is an artist; that noisy table, a bunch of journalists; wow, she must be a model ..."

    "Tell me, what's this Orga-, Oragen-, what's this salad here?"

    The service really is terrific: no matter how jam-packed the place is, there's always an eager, friendly young waiter at your beck, and they really seem to love working there. Each of them serves only four or five small tables, which tells you something.

    So does this: the four owners are also eager, friendly and young (in their mid-30s and early 40s). Caffit is not a cold business venture for them: they founded it, some 15 years ago. And they didn't get greedy with their success by branching out: all their energy and attention is funneled into this one place.

    I lived around the corner when they first opened, when there was little else in "The Village" but a burger joint. Now there are dozens of fine eateries, but Caffit is still the popular favorite -- and THAT tells you something too.

    Well, what else is there to say?

    Oh yeah.

    The food.

    Look, don't just walk in, sit down, snap your fingers, and order the Oreganato. Try something else. (I want to be sure that when I get there, they don't run out.) The sweet-potato soup (NIS 26) is a bowl of yummy contradictions: sweet and tart, creamy and chunky. Next time, though, I really want to try the cream of broccoli. Or the onion soup. (Y'see why patrons keep coming back?) If you like soup with bread, you can ask for soup IN bread: they hollow out a crunchy loaf and that's your bowl.     The antipasti (NIS 48) is antihunger: you get an array of perhaps a dozen delicacies that are colorful, creative, and can I use the word "yummy" again? Judy, my stunning blonde date, who is yummy too, insisted on half of everything, and the hell with her diet. So I can tell you only half-heartedly that the best of the meza was deep-fried mushrooms stuffed with salmon, roquefort and cream cheese, and a close second, splendid mango chunks in (I think) a cilantro vinaigrette. There were portions of guacamole, grilled veggies, ravioli with ricotta and parmesan filling in tomato and cream sauce, tehina, tomatoey-onion-and-nuts, and a hot red thing too brutal for my blushingly tender palate.
    With all this, I sipped a perspicacious but not overly presumptuous dry red Australian vino, which I can wholeheartedly (I didn't have to share it) recommend.
    We tore into foccacia -- not the traditional rosemary-and-garlic (NIS 24), but a novelty for me, with mozzarella, sun-dried tomatoes and black olives (NIS 34).
    Caffit gets its pasta homemade from an Italian family in Tel Aviv, and adds zing: the pasta dishes (NIS 38-46) include fettucini with stir-fried zucchini in olive oil and oregano, and (next time, next time) spaghetti in pesto sauce.
    It all sounds so Italiano, but Idit, the manager, refused to limit Caffit's menu as "Italian." Indeed, the chef studied there, but he's a local talent, so it's a bit of both, but mostly, originally his.
    You might want to get up and take a little stroll down Emek Refaim to make room for dessert (go left, and you can peek in at the cemetery through a hole in the iron door), which is worth every calorie: butterscotch cake with nuts and whipped cream, cheese cake, bittersweet chocolate and orange, a divine two-tone Belgian chocolate concoction, hot chocolate cake, apple pie, and a pecan-plus-plus pie. Next time. I like my espresso tongue-thwackingly bitter, just like they make it.    
    I wasn't going to mention the salads, because there isn't much room left here on the Internet, but I think I have to. The salads (NIS 38-45) -- Greek, tuna, Nicoise, mozzarella, Roquefort, goat cheese -- are much better than they sound, and the oreganato...

    Last time I went to Caffit, and this time, and, I'm sure, next time, I couldn't resist. Didn't even have to look at the menu. "Gimme the usual," I commanded.
    The recipe -- tomatoes, Bulgarian cheese, black olives, onion, stir-fried zucchini, pine nuts, pistacchio, walnuts, sunflower seeds, basil, mint, olive oil -- is a secret. They made me promise not to give it away (which is why I didn't mention the oregano).