I was sitting at Barcarola and perusing the menu with uncertainty. On the one hand, I was highly tempted to order what I had here the last time (ah, I can still taste the heavenly jumbo shrimps), but on the other hand, I couldn’t bring myself to forgo the opportunity to discover what else this wonderful kitchen has to offer (but to be honest, a part of me is afraid of being disappointed). The die was cast after a short talk with the waitress whose fluent explanations reminded me of how the service at Barcarola stands out in the Israeli dining landscape, and I got in the mood for trying out something new. Eventually, we decided to order chestnut-soup and Coquille St Jacque in crab-butter.
Did I say I was afraid of being disappointed?
Facing the plate which contained all that to which the god of our people is supposed to object, I had myself a silent talk with the heavens, thanking the creator for the marvelous dwellers of the sea which he has created, and especially for one Noam Deckers, whom he chose to place as the chef at Barcarola…
The meaty, soft contents of the fine Coquille St Jacque scallops was anointed with crab-butter and placed over excellent cream of pumpkin. A strip of bacon, seared to crispness and placed at the center of the plate completed the picture. All this amounts to a terrific dish that left quite an impression on me. The chestnut soup was good – slightly whipped, containing cream, crispy bacon bits, and two shrimps.
To accompany our first courses, we had an excellent fig Mojito, which was served from the rich bar and mixed in such a way so as to be both light and containing enough alcohol to make life suddenly seem pleasant and carefree. And so by the time the entr?es arrived, we were already on the slightly tipsy side. To assure ourselves maximum enjoyment on all fronts, we also had a very patriotic beer, “Abir” beer, a boutique beer made locally in Kfar Saba(?!) which brought about cries of admiration from the masculine, beer-loving side of the table. We also had a cocktail called “Campassion” which was a mixture of an alcohol of some sort (sorry, but at this point I was no longer too focused), passion fruit, and orange juice - a definite success that was soon fully consumed.
The entr?es were a choice entrecote steak, served with tasty mashed-potatoes, red-wine sauce, and veal stock; and a fresh cut of salmon served with a warm salad of seaweed and champignon in a dressing of mustard and white-wine. The two dishes were, like everything else coming out of that kitchen, meticulously prepared and precise in flavor. It was a pleasure waiting with anticipation for the dishes to arrive, while knowing that each one holds within it a magical combination of flavors and innovations for the palate and the eye.
Now, forget everything I have told you until now, and write down the following: “Tonka.” Tonka, as was explained to us, is a fruit found in the Caribbean, whose seeds are dried and powdered to create a wonderful exotic spice, which is used by the knowledgeable kitchen staff in the preparation of their fine chocolate mousse. Ladies and gentlemen, the chocolate entries in all menus everywhere can now be erased. One cannot find the words to describe the divine taste that one gets when having a heaping spoonful of that warm, rich, and Tonka-spiced chocolate. Truth be told, I am convinced by my plethoric explanations that it is impossible, in fact, to explain. You just have to go for yourselves and have a taste. See you there.
13 Atir Yeda, Kfar Saba