From its humble beginnings 32 years ago as a modest folk music festival geared primarily to the English speaking community in Israel, Jacob’s Ladder has evolved into a 3 day bluegrass, country, blues and world music extravaganza that appeals to thousands of both Anglos and Israelis, from teenagers to 60+ old timers.

The latest edition of Jacob’s Ladder was held two weeks ago at its permanent home of Kibbutz Nof Ginosar along the Sea of Galilee just north of Tiberias. The musical line up featured a number of international acts including last year’s headliners The Abrams Brothers, one of the country music scene’s preeminent banjo and fiddle-playing bluegrass acts. The Canadian-born Abrams Brothers – consisting of dad, two brothers, a cousin and two world-class banjo players from the U.S. – had the younger set swooning. As my 14-year-old daughter put it, they were all “hot.”

Other star performers who came from overseas to perform at this year’s festival included Pete Morton, an British ex-punk rocker who turned to raucous guitar driven folk after hearing a Buffy Sainte-Marie record some 30 years ago; North Carolina-based “quirky folk singer and poet” Utah Greene; singer songwriter Sonia Rutstein, who goes by the stage name of SONiA (yes, correct spelling) and blends world music, folk, pop and Middle Eastern rhythms in English, Spanish, Arabic and Hebrew; and TRiAD (what’s with these lower case i’s?), a rather weak three piece who performed oddly arranged interpretations of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

Locally grown talent at Jacob’s Ladder included Avital Raz who studied Indian classical music in Varanasi for 5 years and performs an eclectic mix of folk pop with Indian undertones; Sandy Cash, whose humorous ditties always make us smile (the song about a truck that accidentally dumps a load of Viagra in the local water supply is an all-time classic); Tal Korenberg’s Bodhran band, perhaps Israel’s only double bagpipe jammers playing Irish, Celtic and Scottish folk tunes; and my personal favorite, Iyam who got the crowd dancing to a mix of Hebrew and English reggae and rap.

Jacob’s Ladder is more than just music. There are tai chi sessions, a clown workshop for the kids, a chai zula for the cool set to chill out; and lots of country, line and square dancing. My wife Jody has been going to a monthly “contra” dancing in Jerusalem to which I’ve steadfastly refused to attend, on the grounds that I “don’t like anything with steps.” Jody dragged me into the first session at Jacob’s Ladder and before long I was hooked. What fun!

Despite a crowd in the thousands, Jacob’s Ladder never feels oppressive. There are 3 main stages and, other than Friday night when everyone spreads a sheet on the grass and grooves to the main acts, activities are pretty loose. Some people take a dip in the pool. Others browse the arts and crafts area. The lobby of the hotel is always happening with impromptu jam sessions into the wee hours of the night.

Politeness and honesty are an unspoken rule of thumb. You can leave your stuff anywhere and no one will take it. If someone sits in your chair, there are no arguments when you return. Smoking is the exception rather than the rule. There is a laid back, free flowing feeling to the whole event that serves as an antidote, however brief, to the stresses of day to day living in Israel. In short, we love it.

Over the years, Jacob’s Ladder has become less Anglo and more Israeli. That’s in part due to the Israeli-born children of the original attendees who have grown up at Jacob’s Ladder and seem to know all the Israeli and Irish dances by heart (the mosh pit to the side of the main stage was grooving big time Friday night – even I plunged into the midst of the “scene”). There is also a fair representation of Israeli adults who enjoy the music and casual scene.

For Anglos, it’s a chance to catch up with old friends from around the country. It is also a testament to the strong presence of non-religious English-speakers in Israel, a phenomenon you’d be hard pressed to see from the demographics of Jerusalem’s southern neighborhoods where we live.

The overwhelming secular nature of Jacob’s Ladder has also changed in recent years. An increasing number of Orthodox families now attend the festival. The kippa-wearing crowd has its own minyan by the lake Friday night and seems to find no contradiction between Shabbat observance and listening to great music.

Attendees can buy “scrip” in advance so that food purchases can be made without spending real shekels over the weekend. We ate a “proper” Shabbat dinner in the Nof Ginosar dining hall which has one of the better buffets I’ve eaten at a kibbutz hotel.

Our friends call us a bit spoiled. While nearly everyone camps – the grounds of the kibbutz guest house are covered by a sea of tents – we booked a simple but functional room in the pundak, a country style inn with nice pinewood furniture, where we could sleep on a real bed and take a real shower. Despite several derisive comments on our refusal to rough it, that didn’t stop our friends from using our bathroom and fridge.

At the end of the weekend, as the music died down and the afternoon sun began to wane, we wandered down to the Kinneret, pulled a couple of plastic chairs down to the rocky beach and dangled our feet in the cool water. It was a perfect end to a fabulous weekend.

Will we be back? Undoubtedly. We’ve already booked our room for 2009…

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Interested in attending Jacob’s Ladder? Check out the website at www.jlfestival.com where you can buy discount tickets online. Next year’s festival will be held May 7-9. A smaller and more intimate winter version will be December 5-6. Tickets for just the two days we attended were NIS 230 ($66) for adults, NIS 140 ($40) for kids up to age 12 if ordered on the Internet in advance.

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This article originally appeared on Israel21c.

I’ve been eating out a lot lately. For some reason, I wound up ordering ravioli at both restaurants I visited recently. Here, then, are two reviews of landmark Jerusalem restaurants which include elegant pasta on their menus.

Caffit

Jerusalem’s Caffit is the quintessential Israeli café. The oldest establishment on Jerusalem’s trendy Emek Refaim Street – now packed with close to 50 restaurants from elegant dining to “entrecote on a roll” – the vegetarian Caffit serves up fresh pasta, fish and veggie burgers in an upscale urban environment.

The glassed in city street café is hip and modern with lots of dark wood, a large plasma TV playing the latest sports, and a full bar. An outdoor patio is perfect for enjoying a warm summer evening (and a smoke, as the indoor area is, as is now the law in Israel, smoke-free). When we visited, the café was already packed (we got the last table); by the time we left around 9:00 PM, there was a long line waiting to get in.

I ordered a sweet potato ravioli which was generously dusted with pine nuts – it was delicious, the ravioli was just the right tenderness for home made pasta and the sweet potato was offset nicely by the light cream sauce.

My companion ordered the baked salmon with chopped peanuts on a bed of spinach and a cream sauce. The salmon was a little dry, but the creamy sauce and spinach worked well together and the result was mostly delightful.

The portions at Caffit are generous and we weren’t sure if we had room for dessert but when the waiter brought over the dessert tray, it was hard to resist. Various home made chocolate confections were on display; we chose to split an artistic creation called the Gaya which consisted of a layer of sponge cake, chocolate mouse and white chocolate with a dark chocolate crust. It melted in our mouths.

The wait staff at Caffit is attentive but seemed a little overwhelmed by the throng of patrons. Unlike in some restaurants where diners are often handed the check too early and pushed out the door, at Caffit you can linger as long as you want; indeed, getting our bill took a bit of aggressive hand waving.

The bill for two, including a couple of glasses of wine, came to 197 shekels ($56). If you’re looking for an authentic Israeli café with a modern décor and rich menu, you can’t go wrong at this long-standing establishment.

1868 Dairy Café

1868 is the name of one of Jerusalem’s top (and most expensive) eating establishments.  There are actually two restaurants – a meat restaurant located at 10 King David Street (opposite the David Citadel hotel), and a newer dairy restaurant at 34 Bet Lechem Road, opposite the Paz Gas Station. We ate at the latter.

At 1868, there are two seating options – an elegant chef restaurant inside which features white cloth tablecloths, fine cutlery and lovely large wine glasses, and the outside café which is much plainer but has prices about half those of the restaurant. We chose to save a few shekels and eat outside which turned out to be an excellent choice – the food is still exquisitely prepared and the imaginative placement of translucent screens shuts out the somewhat shabby surroundings and noise from the busy street and adjacent petrol station.

Before we’d even ordered, our waitress brought us a basked of home baked bread with a garlic butter and a smoked eggplant sauce. We’re big fans of bread – especially when it’s fresh and hot – and we ultimately had to ask for a second basket – it was that yummy.

We started with an appetizer of baked Camembert with caramelized endive. The Camembert was a whole wedge, not just a few slices. The sweet endive nicely contrasted with the soft salty cheese, all of which was eaten on a triangle of crusty toast (yes, more bread!)

For our main courses, my companion ordered a drum fish in a mustard sauce with pureed potatoes. She was in heaven. It was even better than the fish we ate at Dag al Ha Dan (see my mention here during our recent trip to the North).

As I mentioned before, I went with my favorite pasta – ravioli. At 1868, the dish was stuffed with pesto and enveloped by a butternut squash sauce. My first reaction was that it wasn’t as flavorful than the (less expensive) ravioli I had at Caffit, nor was it cooked quite as al dente, but it slowly grew on me, turning spicier with each bite. A dollop of sour cream on the top added to the variety of tastes.

Unlike Caffit, the portions at 1868 are much smaller and this time we didn’t have to fight back the urge to order dessert. We were rewarded with two hot brownies with a peanut butter mousse and homemade vanilla ice cream. It was the elegant restaurant version of a Reese’s peanut butter cup, albeit with a swirl of raspberry sauce on the side. Now we were satisfied.

The bill came to NIS 220 ($63), slightly more than at Caffit which also included two glasses of wine. Was it worth the extra amount? The pasta was equivalent, but the fish excelled. Next time, maybe I’ll opt for something other than ravioli!

1868, by the way, gets its name from the building where the meat restaurant is located – it was built in 1868.

Ever since I started going out for my falafel with my friend Bob, there’s been one unspoken rule: neither of us will patronize Falafel Oved without the other. It’s OK to go to another falafel stand, just not the one where we have our weekly date.

That hasn’t been hard to follow. In general, I’m not in the mood for more than one filling falafel a week anyway, despite my abiding appreciation of Falafel Oved’s compelling concoction of fresh onions, garlic sauce and spicy schug all wrapped up in a warm fresh laffa and served with fresh balls of deep fried humous (I’m getting hungry just writing this).

But when my wife Jody recently needed a night off from cooking, we started to look at our options. We could go out to eat, but that was expensive. For a family of five, it’s hard to get away for under 300 shekels even if we forego the soft drinks and appetizers.

Take out food can get pricy too. Our favorite, the Chinese noodles with beef and chicken from Soya, tops out at over 100 shekels. Even pizza comes in at 75 shekels depending on the topping.

The cheapest alternative by far is falafel. At 11 shekels for a pita sandwich, we can feed our whole family for 55 shekels. That’s how Thursday evening got to be Falafel Night in the Blum household.

But where to go? Falafel Oved was off limits. We tried Falafel Bis which I wrote about before. Despite the multi-colored flavored falafel balls and fried garlic sticks, the overall experience is still mostly muddled and not on the same level as Falafel Oved.

Next we tried Melech Ha Falafel (the Falafel King) – the balls were pretty tasty but the establishment was a car schlep away and the pita sandwiches topped out at an expensive 17 shekels each.

After trying the competition and assiduously avoiding Oved, we finally gave in. Why not go for the best? Jody sent me up the street to break with tradition.

It was after 6:00 PM when I got to Falafel Oved. There were several people already ahead of me in the line. A solitary worker was trying to man several stations – making up sandwiches, refilling the salad and pickle bins, and boiling up fresh falafel balls, all the while cradling an endlessly ringing cell phone under his ear. He also didn’t seem in much of a rush to serve.

The line behind me grew. The man at the front of the counter had ordered 5 pitas for his work. The next man did the same. A woman who I hadn’t noticed suddenly appeared and announced that she was “after him,” a typical Israeli behavior that still drives me nuts. How is it fair that I have to wait in line while the other person simply saves her place and then is free to run errands, confident that the system will not exile her to the end of the line when she returns?

Another woman tried to cut in front of me. “There’s a line,” I hissed at her. Nevertheless, when I had nearly reached the front, the falafel man served her before me. Was that another unspoken Israeli rule? Ladies first? If so, I never heard of it.

The falafel man continued to move at a snail’s pace. By this time I had been standing in the line nearly 45 minutes.

“I’ve never waited so long for falafel,” a man behind me complained. I nodded in silent agreement. This falafel had better be good.

Finally it was my turn. I looked down at the counter. The pita bag was empty. “More’s on the way,” the falafel man assured me. “I just don’t know when.”

My frustration reaching a crescendo, I turned and stormed away, falafel-less and miserable. As I began the short walk home, I called Jody and told her of my experience.

“Maybe you can buy bagels?” she suggested.

“No,” I practically yelled into the phone. “I’m done standing in lines. I’m coming home.”

And then I hung up on her. I truly didn’t know what to expect when I arrived at our apartment. A room full of grumpy children? A quick omelet cooked up in the microwave? Fortunately, 17-year-old Amir was more resourceful than I’d given my family credit for. What do you want on your pizza, he asked in a cheery voice.

The pizza was fine, good even. I had onions and Bulgarian cheese. No one went hungry. But I couldn’t help feeling that I had just been subjected to the Curse of Bob. We had agreed never to eat at Falafel Oved without the other. The one time I try, they run out of pitas before I can fill up for my family. Never again, I vowed.

The next week, Bob and I went out for our weekly pilgrimage to the god of fried humous. The falafel was great as always. On the following Thursday, we bought fried chicken from the nearby “Shnitzi.”

I haven’t gone back to Falafel Oved without Bob. I doubt that I ever will. When it comes to falafel and friends, loyalty comes first.

The one drawback to traveling in Israel during hol ha moed – the intermediary days of the Pesach holiday that ended two weeks ago – is the traffic. Everyone is on the roads and you have to anticipate long delays. Trying to figure out the fastest, least congested route is a national sport in which we dutifully engaged during our recent trip to the north of the country. The same is true of Yom Ha'atzmaut - Israel Independence Day (today).

Getting out of Jerusalem was our first challenge. We headed out of Baka where we live past Liberty Bell Park to take King David Street. But when we got there, the road was closed. Police were directing travelers through the center of town which is jammed even on a good day. Some dignitary was staying at the King David Hotel – was it Jimmy Carter or Condoleezza Rice? We never found out.

Half an hour later we finally made it out of the city and headed towards the Dead Sea to high tail it up the Jordan Valley road where we knew traffic would be sparse. On the way up, we stopped at Gan Garoo, a lovely little zoo featuring kangaroos and koala bears. We somehow hoped that by delaying our travels by an hour we’d beat some of the mid-day throngs on the road.

When we got to the Zemach junction just past the city of Bet Shean, we had a decision to make – should we go left toward Tiberius or right along the eastern side of the Sea of Galilee? We’d already heard on the news that there were 45 minute delays getting into Tiberius so we decided to try what we hoped was the lesser traveled way.

And for a while we were right.

The traffic flowed normally for the first 30 minutes and we congratulated ourselves on a decision well made. And then, around Kibbutz Ein Gev, traffic slowed to a crawl. The 45 minutes we had avoided had been transferred to the other side of the lake.

Finally we cleared the jam and continued on our unimpeded way until – bam – we were stuck for another 45 minutes trying to make a left turn towards the Golan Heights at the T-Junction at the north end of the lake.

By now we had been delayed for an hour and a half and my patience was wearing thin. We had decided to take some back roads to our destination, hoping to avoid even more jams on the main road from Tiberius to Kyriat Shemona. But when we came to our turn off, a large sign proclaimed that the “bridge was out” on the road we wanted.

I finally lost it. Complaints spewed out of me like a water balloon unleashed on an unwitting bystander.

“Why did we take this way?” And: “This is a nightmare!” There were other choice expressions I won’t print in this family-oriented column.

“Are you sure you want to go there?” my wife Jody asked, attempting to temper my temper.

“We’re already there,” I sputtered in reply.

It was at that moment that Jody, with the impromptu wherewithal of a true tzadik, turned it all around.

“What would be the worst thing that could happen?” she asked the captive audience in our car. The kids immediately jumped in with responses.

Aviv: “that we would run out of gas.”

Merav: “that someone would have puked”

Me: “that I would have hit that car when I was trying to pass the truck.”

We all laughed. That’s all it took, a little reality check, and the heavy mood lifted as quickly as it had come crashing down

It took us 5 and a half hours for what should have been a 3.5 hour drive. But we got there, minutes before dinner. We settled into our rooms and hung out on the grass as the hot day faded. You can read about our next days in my previous post. All in all it turned out to be a fabulous vacation.

But the next time…I’m staying put at home until after hol ha moed.

During the recent hol ha moed post-Pesach vacation period, we had the opportunity to join our friends Debbie and Eliot for five days in the upper Galilee and Golan Heights. 8 families stayed at a field school just outside Kibbutz Snir, a 10-minute drive from Kyriat Shemona on Highway 99.  The nights were cool, perfect for sitting out on a lawn chair with friends.

The days, however, were anything but comfortable. A sharav hit Israel this hol ha moed, driving temperatures up to over 100 degrees during the day. So it was off to the water for us on our first day of the tiyul.

We started at Ein Tina, off Highway 918 in the Golan. Ein Tina comprises a 15-minute walk through water up to your belly in spots, then a short climb to what is known as a “waterfall” but actually consists of several draining pipes spewing water. Nevertheless, we all got soaked to cool down from the heat before returning the way we came. The only down side – and this was something we encountered throughout the trip – was that the place was packed with hundreds of hol ha moed merrymakers with the same idea.

After Ein Tina, we went kayaking. Along Highway 99, there are a number of kibbutzim offering kayaking; all of the go down the Hatzbani river. The starting point at Kibbutz HaGoshrim has the longest route, lasting about an hour and a half. We had bought discount tickets at the field school, which brought down the per person fee from NIS 75 to NIS 60 ($17.50).

There are two types of kayaks, neither of which are actually kayaks in the traditional sense. Both are made of inflated rubber. 14-year-old Merav went in a two-seater with her friend Adi while Jody, 10-year-old Aviv and I took the family kayak that can seat up to six. The rafting can be leisurely but during hol ha moed it’s more like bumper cars with kayaks constantly crashing into each other. There is a “challenge” route and a “family” – we chose the latter which included a few mild rapids. It was enormous fun with enough splashing to keep us cool.

For dinner our first night, we went to Dag al ha Dan, an iconic outdoor restaurant that is situated next to the Dan stream. Nearly everyone had the house specialty – Forel (a type of trout) – in different combinations – fried, grilled, filleted. The appetizers included smoked whitefish, pickled herring and creamy cucumber salad. The bill for 4 of us, including soft drinks and dessert, came to just over NIS 300 ($87).

The next day was still hot, so we started off by visiting the Breshit apple packing factory at the Marom HaGolan kibbutz, also in the Golan Heights. The factory (which is mostly indoors, shaded from the hot sun) demonstrates how the apples make their way via conveyor belts through a sudsy cleansing bath, are sorted by size and eventually are placed into the packages and palettes that end up in the local grocery store. The price for the tour is very reasonable – NIS 20 ($6) an adult, NIS 15 ($4) for kids.

From there, we ascended to one of the highest (and coolest) points in the Golan –the Ben Tal mountain where we picnicked and explored the Israeli bunkers that were used to repel the Syrian attack on the Heights in the 1973 Yom Kippur war. Ben Tal also sports a restaurant with the amusing name of Kofee Anan which means “coffee house in the clouds” in Hebrew but is also a play on words referring to the former head of the U.N.

After lunch, we drove down off the mountain to the Hula Lake (Agamon Hula in Hebrew) which is just off Highway 90. The Hula is famous as one of the main swamps drained by the pioneers, many of whom died from malaria. The valley has since been re-flooded to create a more ecologically appropriate environment and is known as Israel’s premiere bird sanctuary. We intended to rent bicycles tot circle the lake (a 2-hour ride) but because of the continuing heat, we opted instead to putter about in a 4 person motorized (and shaded) golf cart (the price at NIS 175 was less than renting 4 bikes).

That turned out to be great fun for the whole family as we let the kids each have their turn driving the cart (word of warning: Merav is going to be a terror when she gets her real driver’s license!) The Hula is a major stop on the migration path of great storks, though we didn’t see any on our journey.

On our final day we went for a morning hike to Nachal Iyun, also known as the Tanur (the oven), a nature reserve just outside of Metulla, an 8 minute drive north from Kiryat Shemona. Metulla is at the tip of a peninsula surrounded on three sides by Lebanon. Both Metulla and Kyriat Shemona have been repeatedly shelled by Hezbollah over the years.

The Tanur is reputedly the most beautiful walk in Israel. In order to do the hour and a half hike, you need two cars, one parked at either end. The walk itself goes through gorgeous canyons and wooded forests. There are three waterfalls along the way but depending on the rainfall that winter, in the late spring and summer the waterfalls may be “turned off.” In this case, farmers in Lebanon divert the water to use for irrigation. The walk is nevertheless quite lovely.

Our hike to the Tanur was on a Friday morning and for most of it, we were alone on the trail, a welcome respite from the crowds of earlier in the week (perhaps everyone was on the road home already or preparing for Shabbat?)

After our hike, we picnicked in the wooded area next to the parking lot (which conveniently sports an ice cream stand and lots of picnic tables). We then drove south about 15 minutes to reach the final destination of our 3 days in the north: The Manara Cliffs.

This popular tourist attraction includes a 10-minute cable car ride to the top of a towering mountain with stunning views of the entire area and a lovely little forest with a 400-meter circular trail. During hol ha moed there’s a jumping  playground set up for kids and regular musical performances.

Our kids opted not to take the cable car ride to the top with Jody and me. Instead they spent their time at the small enclosed bungee jumping area and on a fun toboggan ride that zips down the side of the mountain at breakneck speeds. The kids did that twice for NIS 25 ($7) each ride. The ride up to the top was NIS 90 ($26) per person. Like the Tanur, on a Friday afternoon, the Menara Cliffs attraction was mostly deserted which was truly fortunate; we had heard that during the week, the line for the cable car was over an hour!

Getting away from Jerusalem and up to the nature of the north was a well-deserved vacation. The scenery is spectacular. It’s not cheap nor close but worth the schlep and the expense. Don’t miss it on your next trip to Israel,

Contact info:

HaGoshrim Kayaking
http://www.zimmer.co.il/galil_lang.asp?Site_ID=338&lang=4&addstat=0
+972-4=681-6034

Hula Valley Bike and Golf Carts
http://www.parks.org.il/ParksENG/company_card.php3?CNumber=422020
+972-4-693-7069

Nachal Iyun - The Tanur
0+972-4-695-1519

Manara Cliffs
www.cliff.co.il
+972-4-690-5830