Meet Legendary Chefs Uniting Through Hummus Across the Israeli-Palestinian Divide
Meet the two chefs from different sides of long-running conflicts who shared how they united over hummus
When Jalil Dabit, a Palestinian restaurateur and chef, and Oz Ben David, an Israeli entrepreneur and chef, decided to launch Kanaan in Berlin, it was natural for the chickpea purée to feature prominently on the short menu.
In a region plagued by conflict, hummus serves as a common culinary ground. Named for the Arabic word for "chickpea," this well known staple seasoned with tahini, garlic, lemon, and a abundance of olive oil graces tables from Iraq to Egypt, Syria to Lebanon, Israel to Palestine. No one can agree on who invented it, as various forms of the spread may have existed as early as the 13th century, yet people of different nationalities, ethnicities, and beliefs across the Middle East will readily attest to its deliciousness.
Before delving further into the social impact unfolding by these gifted chefs uniting through hummus, it’s crucial for us to try and understand the history behind the tension between Palestine and Israel. For over 100 years Israel and Palestine have experienced turmoil and strife over area conflict. When we look at history, we learn that Britain took control of the area known as Palestine after the ruler of that part of the Middle East, the Ottoman Empire, was defeated in WW1. The land was inhabited by a Jewish minority and Arab majority. Tensions between the two peoples grew when the international community gave Britain the task of establishing a "national home" in Palestine for Jewish people. For Jews, it was their ancestral home, but Palestinian Arabs also claimed the land and opposed the move.
Between the 1920s and 40s, the number of Jews arriving there grew, with many fleeing from persecution in Europe and seeking a homeland after the Holocaust of WWII. Violence between Jews and Arabs, and against British rule, also grew. And in 1947, the UN voted for Palestine to be split into separate Jewish and Arab states, with Jerusalem becoming an international city.
That plan was accepted by Jewish leaders but rejected by the Arab side and never implemented. Because there was never a peace agreement - each side blamed the other - there were more wars and fighting in the decades which followed. Fast forward to today and we begin to understand the profundity of this tension.
With this in mind, please know this is not some pseudo propaganda persuading anyone to choose a side on who is right or wrong. This is simply an inspirational story about how two chefs from significantly different, historically opposed, backgrounds have found a way to unite over a culinary masterpiece, hummus. An inspirational story in culinary history reminding us about the importance of keeping a proper context on critical news highlighting the need for being educated and working together through our differences, something that both Chef Jalil and Oz Ben understand wholeheartedly.
When they launched a pop-up called "Hummus, Fashion, and Peace Connection," more than a thousand guests came and danced to Iranian and Israeli DJs while munching on creamy, Jerusalem-style hummus. After moving between several temporary locations, Kanaan opened on a quiet street in Prenzlauer-Berg last January. The place has proved so successful that the owners went on to open a smaller branch in Kreuzberg. On May 1, 2016 they opened up a terrace and began offering full dinner service, as well as a traditional breakfast buffet.
In a recent interview with Michael Segalov of the Guardian, Chef Jalil shared:
“Back in 1942, my grandfather founded our traditional Arabic eatery in Ramla, the small town we call home, nestled between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. As he grew old, my father took over. I helped him for four years before finally being invited into the kitchen at 16. I spent my adolescence cleaning, carrying water and prepping. One day my dad said: “Jalil, come here, I will teach you how to make hummus.”
Food wasn’t just our livelihood, though, it was a way of bringing people together. Every year we’d hold a party for Arabs and Israelis at a nearby kibbutz called Gezer. Muslims, Christians, Jews were all invited to talk, to eat and to dance. We’d bring trays of salads, meats and stuffed vegetables. My father was a man of food and a man of peace – the two most precious gifts that he gave to me.
We have shown that we can work together. There's no better way to do that than through food. I moved to Berlin four years ago and wanted to open a restaurant. I eat a lot of hummus, and everywhere I tried it I thought I could do it so much better. Sadly, it just wasn’t quite coming together. And then I met Oz.
We had a shared vision, even though his background is so different to mine. We began importing tahini to sell to retailers and at markets, the same product my father sold in Israel and Palestine. When we told people that I was Palestinian and Oz was Israeli, their eyes lit up: “Yes,” they’d say, “let’s do it.” Then I knew we could open a restaurant.”
Chef Oz Ben David added:
“The food I bring to Kanaan is the food I grew up with; flavours that bring back memories of my childhood in Israel. My teenage years were spent in Ariel, an Israeli settlement 20km into the West Bank, at the heart of the Israeli occupation. At night we patrolled the village, then in its chaotic early years. Stones were thrown as we passed Palestinians who’d lit fires in protest. I remember being on a bus aged 16 and demanding a Palestinian man show me – a child – his ID, and starting a fight with him because he wouldn’t. You’ve no idea how much I regret it now.
I joined the army at 18. The life I built up didn’t feel like my own – it was just what my parents wanted. Today I can’t connect to my early life much through politics or shared values, so I’m doing it through food. My father’s family are Romanian, my mother’s Moroccan – it made for an interesting combination of couscous and stuffed cabbages at Shabbat meals. That’s the magic of the cuisine I know – it’s the coming together of the unexpected.We are proud to have such a mix of people working here: Syrian, Kurdish, Turkish, Iranian, Iraqi and Israeli, Germans, Italians, and others from Sudan, Eritrea and Chad. And our customers seem to like it, too – business is good. People come for good food, but they stay for the open atmosphere and the welcoming experience. Jalil and I talk politics, although it very rarely gets heated.
Their place is called Kanaan because “that’s what the land was called before” it became Israel and Palestine. Chef Oz continued, “in those days we were all under one tent: one family. That approach informs all we do here. When we started out, I wanted to design dishes the Israeli way; for Jalil it was Palestinian. But we began to share our secrets: how my grandmother made hummus, his shakshuka.”
Chef Oz and Jalil both realized it wasn’t right for them to make a dish which would satisfy the Israeli or Palestinian side. Instead, they had to find a way that could keep both of their parents pleased if they sat down to eat.
Chef Jalil and Oz are two young culinary legends in the making. Can’t wait to see what they do next.