Restaurant - A food or remedy that restores lost strength to a sickly or tired individual. Consomme and extract of partridge are excellent restaurants. Wine, brandy and cordials are all good restaurants for those whose spirits are drained. Some restaurants are distilled from the juices of light, flavorful meats combined with soft white bread, stimulating waters and powders, conserves, electuaries, and other good and sweet-smelling ingredients. Aspic is a sort of restaurant, but is more nourishing and of a firmer consistency than a restaurant, which is liquid.

Antoine Furetiere, Dictionnaire Universel (1708 ) Restaurateurs - Those who have the skill of making true consommes, called restaurants, or the prince's bouillons, and who have the right to sell all sorts of creams, rice and vermicelli soups, fresh eggs, macaroni, stewed capons, confitures, compotes and other salutary dishes.

- Almanach General D'indication (1773 ) The modern restaurant was born from a pot of clear beef consomme. Many decades before restaurants were known as eating places, a restaurant was something to be consumed - a concentrated beef broth that was considered a tonic for body and soul. Legend has it that restaurants were an invention of the French Revolution. The cooks of aristocratic households found themselves out of work after their masters went to the guillotine and the strict hegemony of the guild system crumbled overnight. Thus the elite restaurants of 19th-century Paris sprang up. The historic process, writes historian Rebecca L. Spang in a fascinating book on the subject, is more complex than expected and closely tied to that wondrous beef broth.

Public eating places are not an invention of the new age. Taverns, inns and wine shops that served small items of food alongside drinks existed as far back as the classical period, and for thousands of years served travelers far from home, and the poor who could not afford kitchen utensils or even a source of fire to warm their food. Soup was an even more ancient invention. From the moment human beings first began creating cooking utensils, some 9,000 years ago, soup was one of the first foods known to man. In 18th-century Paris, conditions were ripe for the creation of a new institution.

At the time, wealthy travelers would take to the roads armed with letters of recommendation. Whoever could show the right documents and had the right connections got to eat in style at the private tables of feudal estate owners along the main road. The unlucky ones who lacked the right social connections had to head for the nearest inn, where at a set hour a single dish was served, no choice involved, at a large common table. The sole serving was usually a hot meat stew often made from inferior ingredients, and the atmosphere was considered to be morally dubious and hostile to foreigners and women.

In Paris, one could find thousands of traders and producers of food and drink who were organized by royal decree into 25 different guilds. The charcuteries were granted a monopoly on the sale of sausages and other processed pork products; the butchers handled the meat of other animals from the household farm; the rotisseries grilled venison; the guild of gingerbread producers and sellers was permitted to deal exclusively with that one item; pastry chefs dealt with other types of dough; and the casserole maker, for example, was prohibited from selling mustard or wine to accompany his product. The structure of the professional guild system prevented a combination of different culinary functions and the creation of the "restaurant" as we know it today.

Only in the second half of the 18th century did a few pioneers manage to break down the rigid boundaries of the guild system. These people, Paris' first restaurateurs and the heroes of Spang's book, actually worked at the behest of the king, who provided them with a royal permit to serve curative restaurants with a medical aura of serving the public good.

Practical magic

One of the first recipes for a 15th-century restaurant begins with the instruction to cook a freshly slaughtered castrated chicken in a distillery vat commonly used by alchemists, along with 60 ducats of gold. The author of the ancient recipe notes that to the gold may be added diamonds, rubies, sapphires, jasper or "any other precious stone recommended by the physician." In 17th- and 18th-century cookbooks, the precious stones have disappeared, but recipes for restaurants were still quasi-medical potions meant to invigorate the body and add flavor to other recipes. In dictionaries and encyclopedias of the time, including the famous one by Diderot and his cohorts in the Enlightenment movement, the restaurant was clearly defined as a medical term.

Restaurants of the period were distinguished from more popularly derived concoctions by their concentrated flavor. Unlike other soups, this was a reduced, strained beef broth with no other liquids added; the result, it was believed, was the vital essence of the meat and of nature. The long cooking process, in which the meat was transformed from a solid to a liquid, making it easier for the ailing stomach to digest, was considered a true wonder of alchemy. From the places that served these healthful soups - and were also the first to offer menus of various dishes to patrons seated at individual tables - restaurants as we know them today gradually developed.

"The Invention of the Restaurant: Paris and Modern Gastronomic Culture" by Rebecca L. Spang (Harvard Historical Studies ).

Recipes

Zuppa Imperiale

Chicken consomme with little Parmesan croutons is a typical northern Italian dish. The origin of its royal lineage is unclear, but it is likely that − as in France − the rich, clear broth was the province of the rich. Parmesan croutons, a pure delight that goes well with any kind of soup, are actually a classic food of the poor in that region of Italy, where the cheese has always been plentiful and cheap.
All recipe serve 6.

For the Parmesan croutons
4 eggs
1 cup semolina flour ‏(extra finely ground Italian semolina. Available in specialty shops‏)
120 gr grated Parmesan cheese
80 gr butter
a pinch of grated nutmeg

For the soup:
1 whole cleaned chicken ‏(or equivalent weight of wings or necks‏)
2 carrots
4 celery stalks
2 onions
1 head of garlic
75 gr Parmesan rind ‏(the hard part on the outer side of the cheese wedge‏)
salt and black pepper

Making the croutons:
Preheat oven to 200 degrees Celsius. Crack the eggs into a bowl, add salt and pepper and beat. While beating add the rest of the ingredients and continue beating until the mixture becomes dense. Work the dough with your hands until it becomes uniform.
Line an oven pan with baking paper and spread out the dough on it evenly to a thickness of 1 cm. Bake for 15 minutes.
Remove the pan from the oven and let it cool. Turn the baked dough out onto the work surface and cut into 1 cm X 1 cm cubes.

For the soup:
Place all the soup ingredients, aside from the Parmesan rind, in a deep pot. Add water almost up to the rim of the pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Lower heat and simmer for about an hour, then add the Parmesan rind and simmer for another half hour.
Turn off heat and strain through a colander. Then strain it again through a piece of cheesecloth to obtain a completely clear broth. Before serving, add croutons to the bowl.

Rich beef soup

On the first day of winter, as if by some irresistible impulse, everyone makes soup. Hot soup always arouses strong feelings and the rich recipe given here is a magnificent example of a revivifying pot of soup.

1 kilo beef ‏(chuck or shaitel‏) cut in 2 cm X 2 cm cubes.
2 carrots, cut in 1 cm X 1 cm pieces
2 roots of celery, cut in 1 cm X 1 cm pieces
5 cloves garlic, chopped
2 cups red wine
1 tbsp cumin
1 tbsp sweet paprika
1 tbsp hot paprika
1 tsp cinnamon
salt and pepper
olive oil

In a deep pot, heat olive oil over a high flame. When the oil is hot, add the cubes of meat and brown on all sides, about two minutes per side. While browning the meat, add the spices and mix well so that meat is browned on all sides and coated in seasonings.
Add the cut vegetables to the pot and saute while stirring for about 2 more minutes. Add the red wine, stir and boil until most of the wine has evaporated and coated the meat.
Add enough water to cover the meat and then add the same amount of water again. Cover the pot and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer for about two hours, stirring occasionally and adding more water if needed.

Jerusalem artichoke soup with white wine and thyme

50 gr butter
1 onion, cut in 1 cm X 1 cm cubes
5 garlic cloves, chopped
1 kilo Jerusalem artichoke, peeled and quartered
2 cups white wine
a pinch of grated nutmeg
salt and black pepper
2 sprigs thyme

Put the butter in a deep pot and melt over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic and Jerusalem artichoke and saute while stirring for 2 minutes, until the vegetables are coated in butter. Add 2 cups of wine and boil until most of the wine has evaporated.
Add the seasonings, turn up heat, add enough water to the pot to completely cover the vegetables and then add the same amount of water again.

Bring to a boil, lower heat and simmer for an hour or until the artichoke softens. Turn off heat and let soup cool a little.

Blend the soup in a food processor or with a hand blender until the texture is smooth. Return soup to the pot, add the thyme and simmer for 15 minutes over medium heat. Before serving, remove the thyme from the pot.

Mother’s split pea soup

1/2 cup olive oil
1 large onion, cut in 1 cm X 1 cm cubes
6 garlic cloves, crushed
1 tbsp cumin
1/2 kilo split peas
salt and pepper
a handful of chopped parsley
olive oil

In a deep pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and saute until golden. Add the garlic and cumin, stir, and add the split peas and stir again. Add enough water to the pot to cover the peas and onion and then add the same amount of water again. Cover the pot and bring to a boil.
Turn the heat very low and simmer for three hours. Stir occasionally, being careful to keep the peas from sticking to the bottom. The process may be shortened by using a pressure cooker. In that case, after boiling, the soup will only need to cook for about an hour.
Season with salt and pepper to taste and serve with a little chopped parsley and a drizzle of olive oil.

Soup day

The first soup kitchens opened in Paris and London in the 19th century and provided bowls of hot soup to the needy and homeless. Today, too, in Israel as elsewhere, there are many for whom a bowl of soup, the restaurant of days past, is crucial for the survival and healing of body and soul.

The Lasova organization was founded 25 years ago by attorney Gil-Ad Harish, and over the past generation he and the organization’s volunteers have been doing truly sacred work helping the less privileged. It runs a fleet of vehicles used for food collection, a network of youth centers throughout the country, and the Lasova restaurant in Tel Aviv’s Shapira neighborhood, which serves hot soup and full meals daily to those in need. The organization recently ran into financial difficulties and, for the first time in its history, had to appeal for public donations to make possible its continued operation.

To help Lasova, Naama Peled and Dudi Califa, the creators of the food blog Beygale ‏(www.beygale.co.il‏), organized Soup Day ‏(Yom Hamarak‏) − a project meant to raise awareness of the organization’s activity and assist it with fund-raising. On December 21, all proceeds from soup orders at a long list of restaurants throughout the country were earmarked for Lasova and its activities.
www.lasova.org.il

French connection 1

This is surely what paradise looks like: a luxurious boutique hotel, designed according to the rules of French aesthetics and brimming with every modern amenity, most notably a good restaurant and bar. Just a few minutes away you could lose yourself in the marvels of the desert and the nooks and crannies of Ramon Crater. But you might have trouble tearing yourself away from the delights of the room and the bar, and only manage the few steps out to the balcony for a nighttime dip in the Jacuzzi while gazing at the heavenly star show above Mitzpeh Ramon. One very quickly grows used to life’s pleasures, adopting an agreeable routine of lolling in bed, judicious drinking throughout the day and sumptuous meals. We came for one night, found ourselves staying for two, and still found it hard to say goodbye to the peaceful, hedonistic life.

Arnaud Rodrigue, a businessman of Indian extraction who made his fortune in France, came to Israel in 2005, made his home in Mitzpeh Ramon and opened a restaurant and six hospitality suites in typical French romantic style. The hotel and restaurant are located, amazingly, in partially abandoned hangars in the industrial zone of the small desert city. The gorgeous design and meticulous hospitality of the local staff headed by Arnaud makes up for the lack of a view. In putting together the restaurant menu, Rodrigue, a real food fanatic ‏(for his bar mitzvah, he asked his father to take him on a tour of three-star Michelin restaurants‏), enlisted the help of chef Yair Feinberg. At the delightful restaurant, which offers a locally-inspired bistro-type menu at moderate prices, one can also sample the fine wines produced by Arnaud and family from their vineyards.
Chez Eugene, Mitzpeh Ramon, (08) 653-9595; mitzperamonhotel.co.il

French connection 2

“Wine is my remedy for preserving health, but in recent years the doctor has only allowed me one bottle per meal,” 81-year-old William Fevre explained to the staff of the Yatir Winery in Tel Arad. Fevre, from the 14th generation of a famous family of vintners from Chablis, visited Israel with his 70-year-old Austrian lover. Next summer the lively pair of lovebirds is planning to marry.

A few years ago he sold the winery that bears his family name to a large corporation. He tenaciously held on to the vineyards, located in one of Burgundy’s finest wine-producing regions. “I was born in the 1920s, accursed years when a phylloxera epidemic ran rampant in European vineyards. The villagers’ traditional source of livelihood was nearly wiped out,” Fevre says. So terrible were the times that when his father asked for his mother’s hand in marriage, her parents insisted he promise that their children would not go into the wine business. “They sent me to Paris for academic studies, but all I wanted to do was make wine. When I returned to the vineyards, my father didn’t speak to me for seven years.”

About a decade ago, he found in a street called Rue des Juifs ‏(“Street of the Jews”‏) the remnants of a synagogue dating from the 15th century. The local authorities expressed no interest in the ruins and Fevre, a Catholic who has always shown an interest in Judaism, decided to reconstruct and preserve the structure. In the cellar of the Jewish synagogue, he decided, following ironclad French logic, to store kosher wine. In 2007, he visited Israel for the first time, and in the space of one week tasted the wine at 40 different local wineries. Among the wines produced in Israel, he felt a keen fondness for those of the Yatir and Castel wineries, and last month he returned to photograph vineyards in the middle of the desert and the hills of Jerusalem, and to purchase some of their products.

This coming spring, Fevre plans to open a permanent exhibit in the restored synagogue that will focus on the history of the area’s Jews and on wine. In the meantime, he has also opened a small boutique winery in the synagogue cellar, which, under the supervision of the local rabbinate, produces 12,000 bottles a year. He would also like to sell Israeli wines there ‏(“People who come to the exhibit will surely want to drink some wine at the end of their visit”‏).