Throw This Rench in the Mix: A Hole in the Wall, Literally

So I have this Palestinian teacher. He’s super smart, very nice, has a thick accent, and wears cool shirts. His first and last names are the same (convenient, right?), and most importantly, he’s a local. Every few classes, when we come back from our five minute break (it’s the only way we survive two hours of the history and current issues of Palestine) he surprises us with a new suggestion of some local food we MUST try.

This time it was Mutabbaq.

I have no idea if I spelled that right, but I’m guessing nobody reading this will know either. He told us the name of the guy who makes it, warned us of the sketchy appearance of the place, but assured us it was delicious—the best in Jerusalem. Apparently, this guy doesn’t even have a sign on his shop but he says he doesn’t need one because all the locals know about it and go enough to keep him in business. My teacher told us to walk around, ask people where he is, and we’d find him.

So after asking random shopkeepers around the old city, we came to an ugly one-windowed gray door under a staircase that opened to an even uglier interior. It was quite literally a hole in the wall. I mean, really, I felt like I was in a cave. It had a stone floor, stone walls, stainless steel appliances, and a few gray tables and chairs pushed to the side. There was no menu, no sign, and no decoration whatsoever.

A little Arab man who shockingly resembled a sad puppy greeted us and seemed a little bewildered to see a couple of American kids in his shop asking for mutabbaq, and probably pronouncing it completely incorrectly. Nevertheless, he asked us whether we wanted cheese or nut, invited us to sit down, and slopped some goo on the stove. I didn’t know he was going to make it fresh right in front of us.

We made ourselves at home in his little cave while trying to figure out how the heck we got there, and a few minutes later, he placed a plate in front of us with a powdered-sugar coated pastry thing. We looked at it a little skeptically, took a few pictures in case it was the last evidence of our lives on this earth, and then dug in.

Oh man, it was good! It was a cheesy, gooey, yet crispy piece of heaven. So worth the 20 shekels, and quite the cultural experience.

Well done, Palestine teacher. Well done.