Fruit, Veg, Fish… food shopping in the land of milk and honey.

Well you would think shopping in the land chosen especially for us by the Lord himself would have everything one needs to live a healthy life.  Sadly not the case.  We have been here for weeks now and I haven’t tasted a decent tomato.  In fact I havent tasted a decent anything.

I have been told that in Israel, one needs to eat “seasonally”.  I.e. they dont import out of the season so whats around is what there is.  I have no problem with this, have always been happy to eat seasonal food as its much better for us and the environment.   We used the Riverford Vegbox delivery system for years and everything tasted lovely.  And believe me if its possible in england (with the exception of citrus, as to my knowledge nobody has ever managed to successfully grow an orange on the small rainy island) then here it’s a breeze.  The winter here is a lot shorter and its not like one has to subsist on potatos, cabbage, leeks and old apples for months on end.  The issue is not, therefore, eating seasonally.  It’s the total lack of decent produce.  Apparently, in true Jewish mother-martyr style, all the “good” stuff is exported and the all rubbish is left here for the Israelis to manage on.

If I ever saw fruit or veg for sale in tesco with an Israel sticker on it, I bought it.  Whatever it was.  That’s just me.  And it was always lovely.  Tesco used to sell these organic sweet potatos which I recently worked out were from a kibbutz down in the south.   When we went to visit the kibbutz, I was informed by a family member that the kibbutz doesnt eat those sweet potatos, nor the organic carrots they also export, they eat the cheapy non-organic ones, despite living RIGHT NEXT TO THE FIELD.  Very sad.

Obviously one cannot expect to get the best quality produce from the supermarket, so having given up on supersol I was given the name of a giant warehouse selling fruit veg, meat, fish and bread.  It was very cheap but EVERYTHING I bought from there tasted of nothing.  The tomatos, the peaches, the cucumbers, everything.  I cannot believe that living here in the north, surrounded by organic farms it can be so hard to find good produce.

The other day I was in supersol when I spotted a special offer on some fish fillets already in a package.  They call it “Amnon” fish, or “Moosht”, we call it a St Peters.  I was wondering whether I could get away with frying it so I asked the guy at the counter how fresh it was, as from my experience the discounted stuff in these places it whatever has been sitting around longest.  “oh its very fresh” he tells me, fishing one out of the tank for me.  I watched in horror as it flopped around desperately in his hand – doesn’t he know I am scared of  whole fish??? Anyway, I agreed to buying 2 kilo and he starts dragging out tons of them from the tank and bashing them on the counter by their heads.  “What are you doing??” I shrieked him, “and why so many?” he tells me I will need at least 5 to make 2 kilo of fillets.  Yikes.  Anyway I ran away screaming much to the amusement of a lady having a coffee in the bakery section, who was practically on the floor laughing at me.

Anyway it was yummy, just had to erase that image out of my head whilst eating it.

I am also deeply unhappy with the milk.  It tastes of cows.  Husband thinks its because we are possibly buying a higher fat content than we did in England.  But I think it’s because we got used to drink organic milk, from cows living in rainy green fields.  It’s a fact of life – Israel is simply not designed for cows! I am concerned about what is actually lurking in the dairy products we eat here, but I havent spotted organic milk anywhere and without a car we can’t really explore.

Most years we collect our old etrogs and turn them into jam or candy, using an age old recipe passed down from my maternal grandma.  This year, I have been advised against it as apparently the only way Israeli famers can get their etrogs looking tiptop is to spray them with copious pesticides.  So this year in the holy land will be the first year I don’t do it 🙁

Never mind, the weather has cooled a bit, and as I sit here writing this in my succah with a slight breeze ruffling our palm trees, I can hear our Ethiopian neighbour singing something really cheerful with his son.  It’s a little more atmospheric than my previous home where my neighbour used to sit outside reading tabloids with some dreadful radio station blaring.  Wearing only his underpants.