OUR FAVORITES: THE ARMENIAN TAVERN

Have you ever been to a place that you wanted to scoop up and bring back home with you? That’s how we felt about the Armenian Tavern. We had been there several times on previous trips and enjoyed the atmosphere and food. This time we took friends with us so they could experience it, too.

Staying in Jerusalem for two months gave us the opportunity to get to know the people who own and operate the Tavern and that made the experience even more special for us and our guests: Beth and Gary, Tommy, and Lisa and Rob.

Entering the Jaffa Gate, a short walk from our condo, brought us into an exotic world that appealed to all the senses. Vendors with carts of freshly baked bread, corn on the cob, and fresh squeezed juice stands; tourists from all over the world, priests of the Eastern Churches, nuns, Orthodox Jewish families, Muslims, school kids in uniforms and backpacks, policemen, Israeli soldiers; cars, taxis, buses, hotels; souvenir stands overrun with colorful scarves, pottery, jewelry, and prints; and inviting alleys with even more restaurants and shops. David’s Citadel looms above this passing parade.

Taking a right at the Citadel brought us past the police station and Christ Church complex. We were on Armenian Patriarchate Road. The Armenian Tavern is on the left between Christ Church and the Cathedral of St. James, dedicated to the Armenian’s patron Saint.

Walking down several steps from the street brought us to the entrance with beautiful ivory inlaid chairs: a small taste of what was to come. Winding down even more steps led us into the restaurant. It was like entering Ali Baba’s cave. The one thousand year old arched rooms were filled with carved cabinets of colorful Mid-Eastern jewelry, ancient headdresses draped with coins hanging from little chains, knives ranging in size from daggers to swords, heavily decorated pottery and tiles, and copper, brass, and silver vessels of all sizes.

A huge wrought-iron chandelier centered with a gorgeous punched and jeweled brass lantern surrounded with various smaller jewel-colored lamps hung from the ceiling of the main dining room. Many other lamps and lanterns of various shapes and sizes dangled from the ceiling. On the walls were religious icons and paintings; framed silver-embroidered remnants of priests’ robes; a large panel of hand-painted antique tiles; other smaller tiles. Large brass and copper trays, heavily etched, found their place among all these treasures.

In the midst of all these splendors, rustic wooden tables and chairs are arranged.

We were always warmly greeted by Moses or Aaron, his younger brother. At first glance, Moses appeared very mysterious with his hair pulled back into a tiny pigtail revealing the swirling tattoo around his neck. In contrast to his brother, Aaron was almost preppy and wore a perpetual smile.

We learned later in our trip that Moses’ wife is an archaeologist participating in a dig on the southern edge of the Jewish Quarter. We missed an opportunity to meet her and see his newly acquired home just behind the restaurant (“I can light a cigarette in the restaurant and finish it at home.”) when we lingered too long over our supper. Moses waited awhile then wandered off into the souk seeking new treasures without us.

After a hug for me from our gracious waitress, Abir, she seated us at our favorite table in the corner. If it was a hot day, which it often was, Aaron would turn the air conditioner up a little just for us.

One evening Abir tried to teach us to read the remains of the coffee grounds in our tiny cups like her mother did. She swished the grounds around in the cup and turned them out on the saucer, then held up the cup for us to see. I saw Hebrew letters, Tommy saw Greek ones, and Neal saw alphabet soup. Abir laughed and said she couldn’t read them.

Moses would show Neal his latest acquisition and tell him some of its history. He seemed never to tire of answering our questions about those artifacts and the Tavern.
He was particularly proud of a large heavily-embossed brass cauldron that was used at feasts to serve fruit or meat. In his book, “In the Steps of the Master”, Morton writes of being feted by a sheik in which two whole sheep were cooked and served in such a cauldron.

During our stay, Moses replaced a round table that seated four with one of his own design. In a large copper basin, he arranged a collection of small antique pottery lamps and objects of Roman glass. He covered it with a sheet of thick round glass. With a sly grin, he pointed out the two “Roman glass” objects that were fake.

Our friends wandered around to admire Moses’ unique collection. The mural over an arch intrigued us. Moses’ mother-in-law, a Russian immigrant, painted it. She included the brothers in a lower corner of the colorful Oriental scene.

We had our favorite dishes: a crock of Jerusalem mixed grill, chicken sautéed with green peppers, tomatoes, and onions and flavored with fragrant spices; eggplant salad (a smoky tasting dip that was my absolute favorite); cucumber and yogurt salad; hummus; a big wooden bowl of Greek salad with the small cucumbers that Neal loves; and French fries, crispy on the outside and creamy on the inside. The slightly chewy pita bread is indescribably delicious. For dessert, always the baklava which was cut into tiny pieces just right to go with the little cups of Armenian coffee. Our guests always agreed the baklava was the best they ever tasted.

As we sat and ate our lunch, various locals would drop in to visit. Perhaps there were other regulars too, but we saw mostly tourists with their guidebooks open. The restaurant is not set up to handle large groups, but often there would be a table of four or six.

Our last day in Jerusalem, before leaving for the airport, we went back to the Tavern for one last visit. I ordered some of our favorites: the hummus, Greek Salad, and Jerusalem mixed grill. When I asked a rhetorical “what else?”, Aaron said, “That’s enough. It’s hot outside.” After our meal, Neal asked if we could have some of the place mats and menus to bring home with us and Aaron graciously provided them.

The menu covers give a brief history of Armenia and the Armenian people. It says: “In Armenia, or in a home thousands of miles from its mountains, they [the Armenians] are devoted to the art of hospitality. They are staunch friends, loyal to the family, the people and to their ancient religious traditions. Throughout the world, this hard-working and creative people has provided proud and loyal citizens for the country of their adoption. They have suffered enough to know the value of life, and look with sympathy on the strivings of other peoples for freedom and independence.” Moses and Aaron are loyal examples of this heritage.

We ordered baklava to bring home with us. Saying goodbye, I told Moses I wished we could bring all of them home with us. He replied, “It would be easier if you just moved here.”

Now there’s an idea!