Our quest to eat everything in Israel hit a small snag as both Julie and Talia cried "hold, enough" this afternoon. The jet lag caught up with Julie as she fell asleep even as I was talking to her. The nerve. Talia has had an uneven gustatory experience and has even been known to say such sacrilege as "I'm not even hungry." We still love her but keep one eye open when around her.
Maddie and I trekked late (Maddie had gone to her Hebrew lesson where she learned that the subjunctive is impenetrable in every language) out to Emek Refaim and Pompadu. We took the 18A bus eventually, as Maddie had us running to a variety of stops until we found one that suited our needs. At the restaurant, they sat us in the back with limited lighting but B.B. King playing overhead so everything balanced out. We tried some different raviolii (that's the plural, you know) and I had an eggplant appetizer. I even let myself have some Finlandia vodka. Apparently, after you have drink, they ask you if you want a "chaser." Unlike in America where a chaser is often a softer drink (beer or something else) which helps wash away the drink, a "chaser" here is a half-shot of an alcoholic drink, on the house. So I chased my vodka with some vodka. It seemed to work. Isn't technology grand?
Desserts were as decadent as you can imagine (or more so if you suffer from a severely limited imagination), and the bus ride back was uneventful.