There is a great deal of truth in the old saying, “You don’t get a second chance to make a first impression.” Sometimes, however, it is worth withholding judgment and waiting patiently to see if things might eventually work out after all.
Such was the case recently when we visited the restaurant El Terrace in Herzliya Pituah. According to the hype and the name – a bizarre appellation in and of itself, since the combination of [definite article] “el” with the noun “terrace” does not exist in any grammatically correct juxtaposition in any language – one expects to enjoy an expansive view of the sea from an open-air terrace.
Imagine our surprise, therefore, when we were ushered into a narrow indoor premises, alongside a miniscule al fresco area furnished with a few tiny tables. When we nonetheless requested to be seated outside, we were told that it is not possible, since those limited tables belong to the eponymous coffee shop, while our reservations were for the restaurant. Thus, despite our entreaties, we were denied the opportunity of enjoying our meal in the pleasant atmosphere of an evening cooled by sea breezes.
We were offered a choice of tables indoors, but none of them adjacent to the rather small bay window that offers the sole limited view of the Mediterranean; that prime location is occupied by sofas and low tables more suitable for drinks than food. Every other table was situated uncomfortably close to vents of air conditioning units whose thermostats were set somewhere between ultra-cold and freezing.
After eliciting a promise that the temperature would be adjusted, we took our seats; a waitress asked whether we wanted English or Hebrew menus, and we replied English. In short order, menus were brought to the table – all in Hebrew. When we expressed surprise, we were told, “There are no English menus” – as if our conversation of 60 seconds earlier had been a figment of our imagination.
I had never heard of a restaurant in this neighborhood frequented by tourists and diplomats that did not have an English menu – and certainly not one that had been in business for several months. We were told that they would finally be ready in a few days; at the time of this writing, they are still not in existence (although doubtless they soon will be).
Another disappointment was that El Terrace’s specialty cocktails are still being developed by the mixologists. But site manager Shaul insisted that with the full bar at his disposal, he could mix us our choice of any of 400 classic cocktails, or even invent one that we would like. Shaul’s pleasant demeanor and composure as we weathered our repeated initial disappointments convinced us to stay and give the distinctive menu – created by separate chefs from two different regions of the country – a chance to salvage the evening.
And indeed, things quickly started turning around. Shaul made us a refreshing original cocktail with pineapple vodka, and we perused the unusual food menu, which comprises four sections: Starters (NIS 48-56), Salads (NIS 46-52), Entrees by Chef Loay (NIS 90-400) and Entrees by Chef Yaakobi (NIS 75-210). A word of warning to anyone with dietary limitations: vegetarian/vegan and/or gluten-free options are virtually non-existent, apart from salads.
Our two choices for starters were the Fish Ataif (a.k.a. kataif) and the Eggplant Carpaccio. The former was a very creative take on the traditional Arabic folded crepe usually filled with sweets and nuts; this version was stuffed with cooked fish, tehina, almonds and basil oil, accompanied by dollops of colorful creams: red beetroot and greenish eggplant. The hues of the presentation – including the golden brown ataif – were irresistible, and the delicious result more than lived up to the visual feast.
The latter was also blessed with an eye-popping presentation, and overflowing with promise: a base of thinly sliced roasted eggplant topped with mildly piquant tomato salsa, radish, red chili, raw tehina, date honey, strands of halva, pomegranate seeds, and scoops of feta cheese mixed with labaneh. The layered juxtapositions of sweet and salty worked wonderfully well, and the overall result was a magnificent interplay of flavors.
The huge plate of veggie carpaccio called for some house bread (NIS 22); and although it was ordered as an afterthought, it turned out to be a star in its own right: a whole loaf of kubana, seasoned liberally with za’atar and a lovely blend of savory herbs. It came with the usual suspects of unremarkable dips, but every meal here should include this masterpiece from the taboun.
The constellation in the kitchen consists of Head Chef Alaa [Yaakobi] from Nazareth and Chef Loay [Abu Haykel] from Hebron, each one bringing the influences of his locality. Naturally, we ordered main courses representing each area.
All was forgiven at the end of this topsy turvy evening, however, once we dug into the Smoked Stuffed Chicken – a whole spring chicken stuffed with rice, minced meat and toasted almonds. The ground beef was a stroke of genius that moistened and elevated the dish to the level that this was the best poultry stuffing I had eaten in recent memory.
The writer was a guest of the restaurant.