South America on Dizengoff Street

A taste of Venezuelan street food at the Totuma arepa bar.

By MIRIAM KRESH
Dalia Alhadef (photo credit: GUSTAVO HOCHMAN)
Dalia Alhadef
(photo credit: GUSTAVO HOCHMAN)
Dalia Alhadef, née Chentohovsky, was born in Caracas and came to Israel at age 18.
She married and had her first child in Israel. After several years, she and her family returned to Venezuela, then came back to Israel for good 22 years ago.
“We had family in Caracas, so we went to be close to them,” she says in her lilting accent.
“We also wanted to see what opportunities might be there for us. But two military coups occurred while we were there. It was really frightening under [president Hugo] Chávez. I didn’t want my children to grow up in fear, so we came back to Israel. None of my family remains in Venezuela.”
Alhadef says she’s been cooking from an early age.
“I was in the kitchen with a cooking spoon in my hand from age eight on,” she laughs. “My mother’s cook told my parents, ‘Let her handle the knives.
She’ll cut herself once, but after that, she’ll know better.’ Everyone around me enjoyed cooking: my mother, my siblings, my grandmother. People who cook have generous natures. We like to make people smile and feel good. Our house was always open, and as my father was an active community leader, we often had guests. Hospitality was, and is, an important part of my life.
“That’s why I’ve always dreamed of opening this restaurant. It’s a big job, and I work 18 hours at a stretch sometimes, but I love doing it. Sometimes people come to Totuma feeling lonely for the country they left behind.
When they’re here, they feel like they’re back in Latin America. It’s the food, the happy, welcoming atmosphere, the music, the good vibe.”
Alhadef taught herself how to cook.
“I never studied formally. I learned from everyone around me: Polish cooking from my grandmother, Turkish cuisine from my husband, Latin food from the street food I grew up eating. Most of all, I trust my sense of taste, my own palate. I taught myself how to make ceviche, for example. I wasn’t given a recipe, but having eaten it, I know what to do to reproduce it.”
In addition to the flavors of Venezuela and Colombia, Alhadef introduces influences from Peru and the Caribbean to her food.
“It’s very important to preserve the authentic, unchanged flavors of the dishes,” she maintains. “The only thing I’ve changed in the menu is to bring a little more “fire” into the food.
Venezuelans prefer their food less spicy, but people from other countries like a little, or even a lot, of heat. So I’ve put a little more harif in the food.”
Alhadef personally imports Totuma’s spices, seasonings and papelón brown sugar from Colombia. She buys the precooked corn flour necessary for the arepas from a local importer, and sources her vegetables from the Carmel shuk. I learned that yucca, plátanos, ñame and other root vegetables that are exotic here but essential to Venezuelan cuisine are cultivated in Israel.
“I do have a manager, my oldest son. And I have under-cooks. But I supervise everything, and everything has to be done just so to get the results I want. It’s not ordinary food, it’s Latin American food with all its rich flavors. My motto for Totuma is, ‘We’re not fast food. We’re fine comfort food.’ Because my aim is always to make my client comfortable and have him or her walk away happy.”
Asked what advice she would give to novice cooks, Alhadef says, “Everything starts from love. Cooking is easy, it’s just a matter of wanting to do it.
Don’t be afraid to start. Choose the best available ingredients and season them the way you like to eat.”
She advises mastering the sofrito, a fried, seasoned combination of diced onions, garlic, peppers and tomatoes.
“Sofrito is the base flavoring of almost all Latin American dishes.” (Sofrito is also the name of a particular braising technique for beef and chicken that Sephardi Jewry brought to Israel. It’s not to be mistaken for the seasoning mix that Alhadef refers to.) So what are arepas? They’re patties based on precooked cornmeal and are eaten plain, or slathered with butter, or split open the same way as pita and stuffed. Venezuelans and Colombians eat arepas the way people eat bread in other countries.
It takes a little practice to shape arepas, but the effort pays off with quickly made “hand breads” that have toasty, crisp crusts and a tender crumb tasting mildly of corn. They require a specific flour made of precooked cornmeal.
American and Mexican cornmeals won’t make arepas that hold together. Seek white pre-cooked cornmeal whose label reads areparina or masarepa, masa de arepa, masa al instante, or harina precocida. It’s found in shops that cater to Latin Americans.
In the Carmel market, look for a stand called Dudu and a store called Supermercado Latino. You can also buy the flour at Totuma.
Totuma Arepa Bar
625 Dizengoff Street, Tel Aviv
Not kosher
Hours: Sunday to Thursday, 5 to 11 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, noon to midnight.
Reservations: (03) 516-8963 or via the Totuma Facebook page.