Finding Flavor in Nazareth
I pulled into Nazareth, was feeling 'bout half past fed
Shalom from Israel,
There are two types of hungers that drive you to Nazareth: one is for its legendary food, the other is for its stories. There’s also probably a third type for Christians, but I digress. I found my excuse for both when my nearly eighteen-year-old daughter needed a ride to the Galilee for an informational day at one of Israel’s many Mechinot (pre-army gap year programs where Israeli high school graduates spend a year developing leadership skills, studying Jewish texts, and doing community service before their mandatory military service). Long drives with teenagers are precious - they actually talk when they don't have to make eye contact - and I hadn't explored Nazareth's food scene in far too long, and I was hungry.
I can read ad nauseum about Arab food but talking to the people who make the food is where the true knowledge lies. In his memoir, Russ & Daughters: Reflections and Recipes from the House That Herring Built, Mark Russ Federman wrote about a customer who loved watching the counterman slice lox. Upon reading this, I immediately saw myself in this man. I can watch an artisan work with dough or any other ingredient for hours. With that in mind, I made an ambitious eating itinerary, dropped my daughter off, and headed to Nazareth.
The Art of Qatayef at Abu Ashraf
My first stop was Dewan al-Saraya Old City Abu Ashraf Restaurant, or just Abu Ashraf for short. I walked in and Abu Ashraf, somewhat surprised by my arrival, welcomed me warmly and invited me to join him and his friend George at their table. Opened in 1980 and housed in a Crusader era building, nearly every inch of this restaurant is decorated with antiques. From floor to ceiling there’s nary a space without a bowl, lamp, etc.
Nazareth's economy has long been powered by tourism. In 2019, the city welcomed 2.5 million Christian pilgrims, and even post-Covid managed around 1.35 million in 2022. But post-October 7th, the city's tourism industry has ground to a near halt. Thousands of residents who work in hotels, restaurants, souvenir shops, and tour companies are feeling the impact. As my new friend Abu Ashraf shared over cardamom-spiced Turkish coffee,”it's not just the absence of foreign tourists, it’s the Israeli Jewish visitors. Once they were our regular customers and now they have mostly stopped coming as well.”
Abu Ashraf perked up a bit when I told him that I was there for his legendary Qatayef, a popular Arab pastry invented in the Levant that dates back to the Fatimid Caliphate period (909-1171 CE).
As we commiserated and connected over our shared challenges, Samira, the restaurant’s only other employee, brought out a plate of qatayef, a crescent-shaped yeasted pancake filled with nuts or cheese. The technical brilliance of qatayef lies in its unique preparation: it's essentially a yeasted pancake batter cooked only on one side, creating a surface that's golden and lacy while leaving the other side tacky enough to form a natural seal when folded. It is then fried until golden brown and immediately soaked in a sugar syrup.
Qatayef is one of the go-to items for breaking the fast during Ramadan, and it is closely associated with this holiday, but this is Abu Ashraf’s specialty, and he makes them everyday.
Like most Arab pastries, methods and ingredients are regional and it is no different with qatayef. Abu Ashraf’s Qatayef were filled with nuts boldly spiced with cinnamon, with the syrup subtly flowery, but it wasn’t rose water or orange blossom - two of the most familiar aromatic flavorings in Palestinian pastry. "Geranium," Abu Ashraf says with evident pride, gesturing toward the outside. "It grows wild in the hills outside of Nazareth. I was the first to use it in qatayef syrup."
After finishing my qatayef, I took a gander at the antiques displayed around the restaurant, said goodbye, and wondered how I’m going to be able to eat anything else since I was already full, and headed to my next stop. I also accepted Abu Ashraf’s invitation enthusiastically to visit once the rainy season gets going and share a meal with greens foraged from the area.
Fatayer and Musakhan at El Meshhdawi
The adage of eating where the locals eat is as solid of an adage as any. It’s a sure shot to authenticity. And a line doesn’t lie. I was thankful for the wait, as it would give me an opportunity to scope out what’s on offer. Once inside, I was caught off guard by the encyclopedic amount of unfamiliar Palestinian baked goods and breads before me. I was hit with the layered aromas of fresh bread, caramelized onions, and za'atar. The pressure was on. Though Sharif Hassan from the family business fielded my questions patiently, the growing line behind me made me conscious of time. I panicked and choice overload kicked in and I uncharacteristically went right to the familiar - a fatayer filled with chicory, musakhan, (the real Palestinian chicken1) and a pita fresh from the taboon.
While inhaling my baked goods on a wobbly stainless steel table in front of the bakery, I chatted with Manir Hassan who, along with his wife, Torfanda, opened El Meshhdawi in 2012. When I told him I saw so many items and shapes that I’ve never seen before, he said that was the intention when they first opened, to have things they grew up eating made by their mothers and grandmothers in their kitchen and not be like any other bakery. The fatayer, a savory triangular pastry made from yeasted dough, known for its distinct shape and triangular seal, and was much larger than those I’ve had in the past. It was filled with chicory which tasted earthier and slightly more bitter than the usual spinach that I’ve had in the past. The onions provided a bit of balance with their sweetness.
While restaurant versions of musakhan often feature whole chicken pieces dramatically presented on large flatbreads, El Meshhdawi's version speaks to how Palestinians actually eat at home. The bread base, made from a blend of whole wheat and white flours, provides the perfect foundation for the sumac-spiced chicken and caramelized onions. The pita was also terrific, with 60% whole wheat flour and 40% white.
The Pursuit of Perfect Hummus: Abu Ghanim
I was full, but I wasn’t done. I had to get hummus. Sometimes the best food discoveries aren't the result of meticulous planning but of serendipity. After consulting my well-worn collection of Israeli hummus guides and polling my very serious hummus Facebook group (yes, that's a thing), I had narrowed my Nazareth hummus quest to three venerable establishments. But by not standing on the ancient stones of Nazareth's winding streets and on Nazareth’s busiest commercial street instead, Google Maps revealed I was mere steps from Abu Ghanim. Sometimes the city decides for you.
Since 1968, three generations of the Ghanim family have been performing their daily ritual of hummus-making in this spot. When a business has spent over half a century perfecting a single dish, you pay attention. I ordered their mashawsha (known in other parts of Israel as masabacha). It’s a variety of hummus where the chickpeas are left whole and swimming in a lemony tahini and topped with a generous pour of local Galilee olive oil. There really isn't anything much to say other than this was one of the best servings of hummus I've ever had in my life. Texture. Taste. Temperature. Everything. Just perfect.
The Spice Trail or My Spice Drawer Runneth Over
I then went to the 120-year-old, family-run Elbabour Galilee Mill. Peaking into their processing facility where they mill and process all their spices located right next to their store, I was struck first by the industrial equipment - scales, grinders, and storage systems that are still in use - surrounded by dozens of jute sacks overflowing with whole spices. Next door, the store is lined with dozens of dried herbs, spices and teas. I loaded up my basket with vibrant red paprika, fragrant marjoram, dried rose petals, mahleb (crack open a cherry pit and you'll find this nutty-floral spice that gives Middle Eastern breads their distinctive aroma), and long pepper (think regular black pepper's more complex cousin, with a subtle sweetness). Near the register, rows of homemade remedies promise everything from diabetes control to fertility enhancement - because what's a traditional Middle Eastern spice shop without a side of folk medicine?
I was spice-laden and stuffed, knowing I'd have to come back for the sweets. After my breather at Elbabour, I knew kanafeh - the city's most iconic dessert - would have to wait. The numerous varieties of the Queen of Arab desserts that Nazareth offers deserve their own dedicated stomach space. I've done the research. Some journeys don't need an excuse. I’ll be back soon.
Until next week,
Harry
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For fans of Curb Your Enthusiasm, I hate to break it to you, but the show's famous Palestinian chicken joint was actually based on a chain of Lebanese restaurants in California.
Thank you for this trip! Makes me consider putting a Nazareth food jaunt on my list for my next Israel trip. The breads and pastries I'd sadly have to avoid (I have celiac), but the Humus and the spice shop? Oh yes!