Visit the best Jewish eatery for tzimmes and more
All deference to my people aside, I think it’s only fair to admit that Jewish food is not exactly celebrated for its nuance. As a child visiting my grandmother, I thought the cuisine of the Hebrews was seasoned only by salt, chicken fat and whatever flavor could be culled from carrots boiled for days. But the stereotype is certainly overblown. Perhaps the only benefit of being chased out of nearly every country we’ve ever tried to inhabit is the fact that we’ve picked up a few culinary tricks along the way, ending up with a gastronomy that spans regions as diverse as Spain, Persia and Uzbekistan. And if anyone’s ever tried to combat a cold with a bowl of matzo ball soup (known in New York as “Jewish penicillin”), then they know there’s a certain maternal warmth that permeates much of the food.
What’s more, there’s quite a bit of overlap between Ukrainian and Jewish cooking, Eastern Europe being a traditional homeland for Jews for hundreds of years (let’s save the arguments about who invented what for an editorial). And, indeed, Kyiv boasts several restaurants that cater to the Hebraic crowd, with varying levels of quality and adherence to the kosher laws of preparation. But where to go and what to get? We at the Post don our fanciest skullcap and curl up our side locks to find you the best Jewish fare in the capital.
King David, a large restaurant with a banquet-hall feel located just next to the main synagogue on Esplanadna, serves dishes from all across the Jewish world, with the walls of the main dining room paneled with massive photos of Jerusalem. While easily able to handle a full bar mitzvah reception, I was the only diner in the cavernous hall, like some kind of misanthropic millionaire able to buy everything but company. Opting for the very reasonably priced business lunch (Hr 55), I was treated to an appetizer, main dish, side and a drink. While the Yemenite soup was salty enough to make my grandmother happy, I’m not quite sure what the waitress meant by “spicy.” And there is only so high that chicken rolls and home-style potatoes can soar, but both were absolutely serviceable (and the shocking slivers of raw garlic hiding amongst the potatoes certainly woke me up). The mushroom sauce (an extra Hr 5) helped everything slide down easier, but its grey-brown color and gelatinous consistency didn’t exactly scream “eat me.” While the food wasn’t extraordinary, everything was fine—and Kind David can boast the only menu that’s actually kosher.
Haifa, the next restaurant on our list, used to have a kosher room, but they obviously decided to attract a slightly different crowd. I arrived to find signs declaring “Strip Bar” and “Girls Girls Girls” interwoven with the stars of David on the windows. My friend was already waiting for me inside. “Anytime you want to get Jewish food,” he generously offered, “feel free to give me a call.” So, where once had been a dining room serving food slaughtered according to the laws of the Old Testament, there was now a small stage—complete with obligatory pole—with the tables and their diners arranged in a circle around. But lunch time, apparently, is not a popular hour for erotic entertainment, so there were no dancers to be found. What’s more, the food is no longer kosher (and please feel free to make as many dirty puns as you can think of). But it’s pretty good nonetheless, with produce so fresh it glows, and matzo served instead of bread (a word of warning, though: the “special shashlyk sauce” is really just ketchup).
As far as I know, there are no strip teases at Tsimes, the winner of our challenge (though there is a laughably offensive dwarf-sized wooden Jew welcoming you through the threshold). The menu covers three continents and 5,000 years of cooking: Ashkenazi Diaspora such as myself will be warmed by the perennial standard “kasha and varnyshkas” (Hr 18), a simple Eastern European peasant staple of buckwheat, fried onion, diced mushrooms and homemade bowtie pasta. The Sephardic couscous with lamb (Hr 75) clearly shows its North African roots: tender kernels of juicy flesh surrounded by a sea of fluffy yellow grains. For a taste closer to home, try a bowl of the Jewish take on borsht (Hr 25): your typical ruby beet broth but filled with duckling and prunes. And a Hipesh salad (Hr 35) was a refreshing melange of chicken, mushrooms and cubes of red-peppered white cheese. There’s even a charismatic violinist who churned out a set list stolen straight from Jewish vaudeville. So if you’re looking to fill yourself with the chosen people’s chosen food, go no further than Tsimes.
Tsimes (10/5 Sahaydachnoho, 428-7579). Open daily from 11 a.m. till the last customer
