Can the ‘Jerusalem’ Cookbook Bring About Peace?

From the looks of it, yes 

By Adam Chandler for Tablet Magazine

Back in October, Carol Ungar profiled Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi, two men who grew up in different halves of Jerusalem, met in London, and eventually co-authored Jerusalem: A Cookbook, a book that has become something of a holy text for kohanim of the kitchen. Ungar described their chance encounter thusly:

The 1990s found Tamimi in London, cooking at Baker and Spice, a gourmet food shop run by Tel Avivi Yael Mejiya. One day, Ottolenghi came by the store looking for a job. In a 2009 Gourmet magazine interview, Ottolenghi recalled that their initial conversation took place in English and was about the horrors of English food—especially mince pie. “We couldn’t get over it,” said Ottolenghi. Realizing that they were both Israeli, they soon switched to Hebrew. Since Tamimi has no Arabic accent in Hebrew, Ottolenghi initially mistook him for a Jewish Israeli. To this day, the two still use both languages to communicate.

Let this be a lesson: The makings of any Arab-Israeli love story should immediately begin with mutual disdain for the British. Here this applies to the culinary realm, but could also apply to the historical one.

In the months following the book’s publication, a cardamom-scented fog of love descended upon the masses, making Jerusalem not only the “it” cookbook, but something of a roadmap for peace.

You think I’m overreaching? This morning I finally stumbled cautiously into a New York Times forum about the cookbook, which is still on the Times homepage after two days.

Now apparently there is no such thing as sparse, measured praise for Jerusalem: A Cookbook; its fans are actually fanatics. But as I read through the comments thread, I was bowled over by the effusiveness of the love:

“I just can’t help picking up an extra copy of this to give away any time I’m in a bookstore.”

Say what, MB from Vermont?

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