About twelve years ago, maybe a little more, Shmuel (Shmulik) replaced the stall he had set up some twenty years earlier in the Carmel Market with a sort of diner devoted to kebabs and Jerusalem mixed grill. I happened to eat at his new place, which is essentially a rectangular grill bar (with three small tables outside), and I left exhilarated, promising myself that I would return - preferably every week.
Only weeks turned into months, months into years, and those piled one on top of the other - and here I am, despite being a regular shopper at the Carmel Market, somehow managing to miss my next visit. Once I was tempted by a beer at the Monastery, another time by Turkish börek, another time by the shawarma at Mifgash Rambam - and sometimes it was simply too heavy for me to carry my shopping bags from the bottom of the market up Carmel Street to the corner of Rabbi Meir, where Shmuel (42 Rabbi Meir Street), a kebab and mixed-grill bar, is located.
In recent years, a gastronomic wave has swept through the market. Many places have sprung up and threaten to turn it from a real market into a food court, a bit like what happened to Mahane Yehuda Market in Jerusalem. True, the Carmel Market still has quite a few genuine culinary surprises, while Machneyuda is not only Mahane Yehuda but also the lowest common denominator (the entire Israeli kitchen as a schnitzel in challah). Still, I will admit, without shame and from the most selfish place: I would be happy if the market remained more a place to buy food and less a place to eat it.
That said, Shmuel is undoubtedly among the ten places I would hope would remain open even if someone decided to restore the old order. Not only because it has existed for many years, but because it represents, in my eyes, everything that is good about a market restaurant: A pleasant, welcoming, inexpensive place that greets every diner with warmth and does just one thing (with a few sub-specialties - more on that shortly), but does it simply and well in a way no one else knows how.
A Warm Welcome
Market restaurants, even when they know how to make tasty food, are rarely inviting places. That is - you come, you take, you pay, you eat. It can be very tasty, but the feeling is still that of fast food, even when the quality is high.
At Shmuel, the approach is different. You “just” stopped by to eat a kebab in pita or mixed grill in a ciabatta - and the staff will make you feel as if your entering the restaurant is the best thing that happened to them all day. True, we came to eat and not to hug, but what can I tell you? Good food can be learned. Genuine warmth, on the other hand, cannot be faked.
And the best part is that the good stuff is still ahead of us, because I can sit around Shmuel’s rectangular bar, preferably near the hot plate, protected by a glass partition so as not to suffocate those seated - and watch the mixed grill being tossed, the kebab being grilled or chopped for the special dish simply called Shmuel. Shmuel has a menu that also includes starters from the eggplant-and-tahini genre, and in winter there is usually soup as well, but overall the menu is divided into three - three dishes, each offered in three formats: In a pita, in a ciabatta, or on a plate.
The price changes accordingly. Those who choose the more expensive plate option receive not only a generous portion of meat, but also a fresh chopped salad, tahini, and a wonderful serving of rice and noodles which, despite its simplicity, is so delicious that I found myself emptying it entirely onto the plate so it would mix with the leftover meat, tahini, and amba that I poured on top. Ya salam, how tasty!
Shmuel B
We said that the dishes come in three formats (pita, ciabatta, and plate), but we didn’t say which dishes. So here’s what’s on the griddle: One dish is a kebab with wonderful, indulgent lamb fat - soft, juicy, and delicately seasoned, as only a kebab made from excellent meat can be (that is, no one is trying to cover up the flavor with an overload of spices).
Another dish is Jerusalem mixed grill, a celebration of chicken and its offal, sautéed on the hot surface. Here too the seasoning is delicate, almost too delicate for a mixed grill - until you remember that someone who seasons a dish like this so gently is probably very confident in the quality of their meat. The third dish, for which we gathered here this time, is a combination of the first two: Mixed grill with chopped kebab. Had I been the head of product development in the restaurant industry - and someone had brought this combination idea to my drawing board - I would probably have made them unemployed on the spot, never knowing what a brilliant invention I had just prevented from reaching the world.
But it works. How does it work? It works insanely well - explosive, mouth-watering all the way through, from appearance, to texture, to flavor. It is so delicious that it made me reconsider my life philosophy, which insists that everything must be clearly defined (that kebab should be kebab and mixed grill should be mixed grill - as much as a dish called “mixed” can even be defined…).
How much does the pleasure cost?
On Shmuel’s very friendly price list, the flagship dish is also the most expensive item on the menu: You will be asked to pay NIS 69 for it (those ordering on Wolt, for example, will pay an additional NIS 10). In an era in which it is hard to find a good Turkish börek with an egg for less than NIS 40 - not to mention shawarma and other meat dishes - this is not expensive, certainly not in relation to the generous return. Forget generous - it explodes in your mouth with flavor.
Everything else (the arak chaser we were treated to on the house, after all it was already almost noon…), like the warm welcome given to every diner, regular or occasional, is just the bonus. In one sentence: If I had to present the Carmel Market to someone in a single dish, it is very likely that I would choose Shmuel’s Shmuel.