Tel Aviv, Israel — I like to hang out in dark alleys. It’s always been a hobby of mine. They’re cozy and undiscovered, things I value in real estate. Unfortunately for me, there are some other people in Tel Aviv who seem to be on my wavelength, which means that the odds are higher that when I duck into a dark alley ‘round these parts, I won’t be able to have my private moments to burst out in song, usually “Against All Odds” by Phil Collins. I’ll have to share my space with cute little restaurants and bars. Ugh.
Frn Friend warned me about one such alley-invader, Joz VeLoz. I guess it wasn’t so much a warning as a recommendation of greatness, but at the time she didn’t know about my proclivities towards Phil Collins-related me-time in semi-private and dimly lit public spaces. As Way Overachieving Friend is visiting Tel Aviv this week, I decided we’d go on an investigation of this Joz VeLoz, a preventative measure in case I was ever on Yehuda HaLevi Street with “Sussudio” about to burst forth from my lungs.
One bottle of unfathomably cheap and delicious red wine, a plate of carrot gnocchi with shrimp and fruit jam, a fillet of sea bream, a souffle and a sweet risotto over pineapple later, I was suddenly friendlier towards the idea of Joz VeLoz. Probably the wine was the main reason for my sudden sociability, but I would say that the food made a pretty strong case for friendship as well. The menu, written exclusively in Hebrew from a typewriter (as adorable as a toddler in big-person shoes!), changes every day, so I think I’ll have to go back and visit again. The decor was very homey, and the service was excellent <— a RARITY in this vicinity and something I appreciate.
After our expedition, I’ve decided alleyway restaurants can be okay with me, if they utilize typewriters. They are helping keep technology from advancing too fast and the robots from taking over. Plus, I can sing in the shower, or maybe it is best for everyone that I don’t sing at all.
1 year ago • Notes