Jerusalem's Best Vegetarian Restaurant Doesn’t Do Aesthetics

Kitchens have gravitas in Jerusalem's Mahane Yehuda Market.

Founded in the 1920s by The British Mandate, which occupied Palestine at the time, Mahane Yehuda has become one of the biggest meat, fruit, vegetable, and spice markets in the whole of Jerusalem. But recently, it's been the quality of cooking, rather than the produce that has turned Mahane Yehuda into the city's essential "foodie" hangout.

A few years ago, the owners of the Mahane Yehuda stalls began experimenting with recipes at the back of their plots, using their own ingredients and those bought from the market. These ramshackle meals quickly garnered a reputation for their resourceful use of disparate ingredients.

Now nicknamed "The Shuk," meaning "market" in Hebrew, this smorgasbord vibe has morphed the humble collection of stalls into what travel writers increasingly refer to as a "food destination." In 2010, Mahane Yehuda extended its opening times and now moonlights as an after-hours dining hangout with over 70 restaurants and bars serving until till 2 AM. Brixton Village Market has nothing on this place.

In a kitchen behind a small 19th century shop-front restaurant on the Eliyahu Yaakov Banai avenue of The Shuk, Ha'Agas is bucking the market's trend for meat-heavy dishes by specialising in organic vegetarian cooking.

"In The Shuk, it's rare to have organic restaurants," says Yehezkel Bibi, owner of the vegetarian restaurant. "But in Jerusalem, eating organic is very popular. Everyone eats healthy now so it's about time The Shuk catches up."

Bibi is something of a silent founding father of Jerusalem's healthy eating scene.

"Having everything here in the market—fruit, vegetables, spices—makes you think creatively about food and the effect it has on us and our wellbeing," he says. "It's unusual in a market like these to have a restaurant that's vegetarian and almost entirely organic. It's mostly casual meat places."

But Ha'Agas is miles away from the first wave of vegetarian restaurants in London and New York that served up watery courgette stews and chickpea curries by the gallon. There are no glossy hardback cookbooks either, nor canvas shopper bags emblazoned with the Ha'Agas name. Despite being one of the most photogenic spots in the market, this is an aesthetics-free vegetarian spot.

Not that this has deterred diners. Months after launching Ha'Agas, Bibi found himself keeping the kitchen open until 2 AM in order to cater to the crowds of people turning up to sample his meat-free offerings.

"I didn't think we'd be so popular," he admits. "It was really an experiment that came from being surrounded by all this fresh produce and a genuine interest in the health benefits of vegetarian cooking."

Healthy eating is certainly a popular topic of conversation in Jerusalem. At the end of August 2015, research conducted by The Lancet Journal named the quality of Israeli nutrition as the ninth in the world and the highest in Western countries. There's certainly a hyper-healthy, LA-feel about Jerusalem's richer districts, with juice bars on street corners and superfood salads cropping up on every menu.

"Cosmopolitan Israelis eat very little," says chef Ilan Grossi, owner of Satya restaurant and a Jerusalem food ombudsman. "They like light stuff. Everyone loves salads and most Israelis will eat vegetables over meat. In the last few years people are aware of obesity risks, which are high here. They want to eat light and often, raw."

Clad in overalls and his favourite baseball cap, Bibi doesn't bear the trademarks of a player in an organic food movement. Nevertheless Ha'Agas is one of the reasons The Shuk has become so popular, thanks to Bibi's ability to put vegetarian twists on traditional dishes from Western Europe and the Middle East.

On the menu is his version of kube, a traditional Lebanese dish made from pulverised mince meat (in Ha'Agas' case, soybeans) encased in bulgar wheat. Bibi also serves a pine nut veggie burger, aubergine lasagna, and beetroot soup. He tells me he is particularly proud of his hibiscus juice and his quinoa balls are made with ingredients sourced entirely from the market.

"A customer showed me a link to a healthy eating website on their phone and I thought quinoa could be brought to life with all the ingredients we have here," Bibi says, showing me how he mixes cooked quinoa and lentils with breadcrumbs and an egg.

Bibi then sautés garlic, onions, ginger, and a large handful of spices taken from an intriguing looking tub that simply reads "Yehezkel." Once the ingredients are soft, he adds the quinoa and lentil mix and chucks the balls into the fryer like he's shooting hoops.

One man, starting a grassroots vegetarian movement, one market stall at a time.