Breakfast Day 1 - Sophie Rosen
Breakfast at the motel: a tale of mystery, adventure, and burnt borekas
As we walked into the dining room for breakfast after Shacharit, I could tell the ideals of the food pyramid were going to be smashed and the traditional expectations of breakfast demolished from the moment we entered. We were definitely a world apart from poached eggs on sourdough, house-made granola, and other $35 brekkie staples.
Mysterious troughs of various white substances stared at me from across the room. “Come eat us on a roll!” they beckoned. “Or with granola? Fruit? We don’t really know!” I made a mental note to circle back to the cottage cheese/yoghurt/sour cream and investigate further as to just what they were. I scoped out the rest of the spread - cereal, salad (?), rolls, custard, and orange juice - and sat down. Let the Israeli experience begin.
Now i’ve set the scene, i’ll deconstruct my own plate. On this rainy Tuesday morning, I was compelled to grab myself:
Stale fruit (stylised “froot”) loops: As you might expect, they were quite stale. I can only imagine the chef’s intentions were to reimagine the cereal experience for a chewier, slower bite. I have mixed feelings on this.
A roll + cheese(?): WHAT a rollercoaster. The roll was perfectly mediocre; a nostalgic reference to mankind’s humble introduction to flour and water. At this point I can only assume you’re on the edge of your seat wondering the fate of the mystery white substance. I can honestly write that I am still unsure as to what I ate. A viscous, tart, dairy product that still runs through my head. The femme fatale of this morning’s breakfast. She was inscrutable. (Probs cottage cheese?)
Salad(!!!!???): Who does this feta salad think they are? Insisting to be eaten at 9am? 9am IS NOT SALAD TIME. I was shocked as I experienced salad for breakfast for the first time. We’re certainly not in Kansas anymore. Refreshing, watery, and mostly feta-y, I’m still reeling from this culture shock.
Borekas: The dark horse of this meal. Brought out right at the end of breakfast, we scrambled to pile our plates high with these sesame-sprinkled triangle wonders. The charred edges perfectly complimented the enigmatic filling which truly rocked my palate. This filling rewired my whole mouth. Tart, mushy, salty, liquidy, this filling was overall simply indescribable. I literally am lost for words on how to describe it. I really don’t even know what it was. Lexi tells me was some form of potato in its past life. However, it was now leeched of its colour, almost a snow white. The chef truly evolved its flavour into so much more - or should I say, less.
Most aesthetically pleasing: fluorescent and glowing orange juice
Most likely to make my stomach feel odd: enigmatic borekas
Most improved: white foodstuffs
Would I eat here again?: currently, yes… for two weeks…
Sophie Rosen is a 15 year old self proclaimed “bad boy foodie”. Culinary experience includes working at The [REDACTED] Baker before being fired, and watching lots of Food Network. She currently lives in Sydney and works at a frozen yoghurt bar.