It has been a challenging year for the local food industry. Restaurants and producers were still recovering from the impact of the pandemic when the war broke out on October 7, shaking the country once again. Many had to change course.
During the summer of 2024, we asked many of these restaurateurs, chefs, and artisans to share their stories from the past year in their own words.
Yuval (Joov) Hargil, Owner of Jullius Craft Distillery in Hanita
In Israel’s cocktail scene, former journalist Yuval Hargil (who goes by Joov) is known for his exceptional distillations made near the border with Lebanon. “Through foraging, steeping, distilling, and seasoning with local raw ingredients, Hargil produces a diverse range of alcoholic beverages that evoke aromas reminiscent of the fields near the kibbutz where we grew up or the fruit concoctions our grandmothers used to make,” sommelier Shira Tzidon notes. “Fruits, leaves, seeds, and herbs — all find their way into the distillation boiler and emerge in the form of a drink that, when poured into small glasses, narrates a complete story of soil and land.”
Hargil in His Own Words
In the alcohol industry, it is often said that time and patience are the most important ingredients. Aging in a barrel demands that you set aside any feelings of urgency or expectation, which often grip modern man. Alcohol makers, by nature, tend to be relaxed and peaceful people — it’s part of the process.
So, when the war began, I resolved to find a silver lining, however faint, in the darkness that had descended upon us. Winter had just started, and at a rural distillery, winter is the most magical season. The hectic summer, which brings in most of the fruit, gives way to quieter tasks like filtering, decanting, emptying barrels, and mixing and brewing recipes.
When Hanita, which is right next to the border with Lebanon, was shelled and its inhabitants evacuated, I naively thought that as long as the distillery itself wasn’t hit directly by a drone or rocket, a temporary pause might even benefit some of our products. Not everything needs daily inspection; some tanks don’t need to be opened and checked constantly. Let’s allow things to rest until the storm from the north passes, I thought. Nature has its own rhythm, and so does an alcoholic product — each is a creation of nature itself.
It turns out I was wrong, big time. Nature does have its own rhythm, but war is not nature. There’s no natural process that allows a distiller or winemaker to ignore the yeast, oxygen, bacteria, and enzymes essential for transforming fruit into an alcoholic beverage for such a long period. We are the “shepherds” of these delicate organisms, and now the fences have been breached, and our precious “herd” is in chaos.
By April, it became clear that most of the fermented liquids waiting for distillation had gone bad and had to be discarded. Most of the dedicated employees had left, each to face their own troubles. A significant number of our regular fruit suppliers sustained severe damage to their orchards, vineyards, and fields. What began as a hopeful winter of reflection and renewal turned into a harsh battle for survival.
[As we approach one year since October 7], there are no longer any fantasies — only nightmares. This year is already lost. All that remains is to press on, to keep distilling. “Patience remains the most important ingredient,” a mantra I repeat to myself. The real question is how long patience can endure without going stale or rotting.
Jullius Craft Distillery
Kibbutz Hanita
Tel. 072-3957696
Jullius Craft Distillery’s products are sold and served in restaurants and stores across the country. During times of peace, the distillery’s visitor center offers tours and tastings on Thursdays and Fridays.
Michael Gertofsky, Chef and Owner of Michael Local Bistro in Liman
Located in a pastoral orchard on Moshav Liman, Michael Local Bistro celebrates the Western Galilee through its seasonal menus prepared with local ingredients. “The impressive journey Gertofsky made from Tel Aviv restaurants speaks volumes,” acclaimed chef Erez Komarovsky notes. “He relocated to the Galilee and dedicated himself to exploring its culinary culture. He starts his day in the market and has crafted a refined Israeli restaurant deeply rooted in the Western Galilee.”
Gertofsky in His Own Words
I would compare my feelings over the past year to a painful and forced separation from a great love that ended abruptly. It’s an emotional upheaval that spans from grief to deep longing, marked by restlessness, identity struggles, and numerous questions about whether the relationship between me and my restaurant is ultimately destructive or constructive.
I still don’t have a clear answer. But as time goes on, I’m adapting to the new reality and choosing to see the glass as half full. This perspective allows me to focus on the other restaurants I’m involved with. I must admit, I even find some enjoyment in this shift; the burden of running my own restaurant, which demanded my full attention, is now off my shoulders. I’m unsure when things will return to normal, or if I’ll restart the restaurant. Running a place near the Lebanon border requires peace and quiet. Only time will tell.
Michael Local Bistro
Ha-Gefen St 43, Liman
Tel. 04-9821250
Hours: Temporarily closed due to the war.
Gal Yaniv, CEO of Pelter Winery in Ein Zivan
One of the main reasons for Pelter Winery’s rapid success was the creation of a wine list that expertly captures the essence of terroir, the unique characteristics of the region where a wine originates. Terroir encompasses not only the scientific aspects like temperature, minerals, and altitude, but also the rich history, human connection, and local culture. Pelter embodies these ideals through manual harvesting, a bold selection of grape varieties (barbera, counoise, cinsault, and cabernet franc), a diverse range of kosher, high-quality wines and liquors produced in their boutique distillery.
“Pelter is a kind of assurance for me, ensuring that I’ve chosen or opened the right wine: whether it’s the sauvignon blanc, the light rosé, or the (rightly) celebrated heavier cabernet franc,” journalist and TV personality Ruthie Russo says.
Yaniv in His Own Words
We live in the north of the Golan Heights, a relatively quiet area compared to the ongoing conflict in the region. However, when there is a rocket attack or a retaliatory strike, it often results in widespread fires. These fires pose a significant problem for wineries and vineyards, as they are difficult to extinguish. At the beginning of the war, several acres of our 4-year-old vineyard burned, which was set to yield its first harvest this year. In an instant, we lost 600 bottles of rosé. When a vineyard burns, the impact is felt for years — for example, when merlot grapes burn, it means the wine I was supposed to harvest now and market in a year and a half will not be available.
The harvest period spans from the end of July to the end of October. We prepare intensively for it, yet we remain uncertain about what will happen. For now, we are managing, but things could change for the worse tomorrow. We handle each day as it comes, planning ahead and preparing for the harvest.
Another aspect of our business that has been affected is our visitor center. Normally, we host thousands of people each month, but for the past nine months, we’ve seen only hundreds at best. Despite this, we are still active: We sell nationwide through our website and hold events at the center. The pressing question is whether we will have wine to sell next year. Our kosher Matar Winery label and the export of wines to countries like Belgium, France, and England have been significantly impacted, just like many other Israeli products during this period.
On the optimistic side, throughout the war, we continued with our major project of building a distillery. We never stopped, and we plan to increase production. If I produce whiskey and put it in barrels that won’t hit the market for 10 years, it signifies our commitment to staying here. It’s crucial for us to retain our workers, so we’ve transferred staff from the quieter visitor center to production. We encourage people to visit the Golan — it’s alive, working, and thriving. Hopefully, this nightmare will end soon, and everyone will feel safe again.
Pelter Winery
Kibbutz Ein Zivan
Tel: 077-9100355
Hours: Saturday-Thursday, 10 a.m.-6 p.m.; Friday, 9 a.m.-5 p.m.
Hani Heinik, Chef and Owner of Hani’s Victory in Ashkelon
In 2019, the iconic Romanian restaurant Victory in Ashkelon shut its doors after nearly 70 years. Hani Heinik, raised in the restaurant by her parents, Gabriela and Jonathan Heinik, couldn’t come to terms with its closure and decided to open Hani’s Victory. “At Victory Restaurant 2.0, Hani and Dafi preserve the charm of traditional Romanian cuisine, serving it on elegant porcelain dishes within a modern vintage ambiance suitable for all ages,” culinary tour guide Nurit Poran says. “In a landscape where ethnic worker restaurants, particularly those from Eastern Europe, are fading away, Hani and Dafi have found a way to breathe new life into them.”
Post-October 7, the name “Hani’s Victory” gained poignant significance. On that fateful Black Shabbat, Hani’s brother, Reuven, was tragically murdered in Kissufim. Now, she envisions transforming the establishment into a joyous Romanian Hamara (a casual drinking spot), which was Reuven’s dream.
Heinik in Her Own Words
I’ll start on a personal level. Every day, it becomes more challenging to see life continuing around you. I try to go about business as usual, to entertain and bring joy, but inside, I’m crushed. Time doesn’t make it easier. Working in the restaurant keeps me grounded. People come from all over the country, sharing stories of eating at Victory 50 or 60 years ago when they were soldiers at the nearby Julis base or on their way further south. It’s really emotional and uplifting. In July 2024, released hostage Yaffa Adar visited us for the second time. She’s an amazing woman who radiates strength and optimism.
[These days], I’m really excited to meet amazing people who are supportive, full of love and generosity. I believe and know that we are a wonderful people. I believe that our country is going through a significant change and will emerge as a better place. For me and my family, life has changed. We will never return to the same path we were on. I do everything I can through food and by meeting people to find a new way forward.
I hope that we will reach peace and security and grow from this horrific disaster. Maybe we will once again rejoice in the “victory” of happiness, peace, and tranquility. We will raise our glasses and toast to life, set up a table full of food, love, and generosity. Enough of the bad news, amen.
Hani’s Victory
Yakhin 1255, Ashkelon
Tel. 050-2005810
Hours: Monday-Saturday Noon-5pm
Michal Havivian, Farmer and Owner of Havivian Organic Farm in Naham
Havivian Organic Farm is a pioneer of organic farming in Israel. Grown through sustainable biodynamic agriculture, its exceptional vegetables are delivered weekly to thousands of dedicated subscribers. “The Havivian family has revived the day-to-day connection with the farmers who grow the food we eat, reminding us that food is fundamentally tied to the soil, seasons, sudden rains, heat waves, sprouting, and wilting,” farmer and chef Hedai Offaim notes. Food writer Michal Waxman adds, “Apart from cultivating outstanding vegetables, the Havivians excel in building and nurturing a thriving local community.”
Havivian in Her Own Words
A few days after the war broke, the rain arrived. But this time, the rain that washed our fields did not bring the unique joy usually reserved for HaYoreh (the first rain). It was a furious downpour, violent and angry, devoid of the usual blessing and relief. Instead of the refreshing scent that whispers of a new year, changing seasons, and the promise that everything will be fine, it couldn’t even wash away our tears.
In those days, we didn’t check the forecast; we were too busy surviving. A handful of us worked around the clock to keep the farm running, striving to maintain sanity, provide food, and bring light into homes amidst the darkness. We delivered colors, flavors, and hope to anyone who needed it, on unconditional terms. We felt as if we were battling for the nutritional security of our people — with no tanks, no armored cars, no Iron Dome, or shield. Only a hoe in hand and faith in our hearts. We did everything possible while managing our recruited team, caring for children at home, and supporting spouses in the reserves. Many had no home to return to, farmers had to abandon their fields, and countless others faced profound grief. We face it all together, day by day.
Living and working in the south means being deeply immersed in grief. Every morning brings terrible news, and our days are divided between funerals, vigils, and supporting the soldiers who have turned the moshav into a military base, feeding and caring for hundreds before they head into battle for our home. We also care for family members who were evacuated from the area next to Gaza. Three of our siblings live on kibbutzim and in communities that have tragically gained international attention, while teenage nephews, rather than worrying about returning to school, discover that half their classmates have been lost. Grandma Shula returned safely after spending 30 hours in a shelter without electricity, water, or a toilet. She was with six infants, six adults, and one son who went out to fight for the community within the moshav.
Since the war began, alongside the constant stream of bad news, danger, and uncertainty, our greatest challenge has been the shortage of people who are essential to our daily operations. Each day starts with the uncertainty of how we’ll manage to complete our tasks. On the 10th day of the war, the situation worsened: Our Thai workers, who were not just employees but dedicated managers who planned ahead and trained the rest of the staff, decided to leave. It felt like running a hospital without doctors. We posted a call for help late at night and woke up to thousands of online shares and a phone inundated with calls. When we arrived at the field, we were stunned to find it filled with men and women — young people, retirees, and reservists — all ready to work, having come forward after hearing that help was needed.
Havivian Organic Farm
Entrance to Moshav Naham, Mateh Yehuda
Tel. 050-3412360
Hours: Thursday, 9 a.m.-5 p.m.
Adi Peretz, Owner and Baker of Mattarello in Ein Zivan
Like many businesses this past year, Mattarello closed its doors. The bakery was a success story for Adi Peretz, a young and ambitious resident of Kibbutz Ein Zivan in the Golan Heights. Formerly an events, nature, and food photographer, Peretz pivoted from his camera to transform his baking passion into a thriving bakery he opened in early 2019.
The bakery quickly became a revered destination for pastries. “As someone who has spent their entire life in the north, I see how the Golan Heights serves as an inspiration for Adi’s pastries. In his croissants and sandwiches, Adi ingeniously incorporates fresh apples from Ein Zivan orchards, truffle mushrooms from ‘Ilsar,’ caviar and trout from Kibbutz Dan, foraged forest mushrooms, Golan orchard cherries, and other locally sourced ingredients,” culinary tour guide Nurit Poran notes. “The result is truly commendable.”
Peretz in His Own Words
On the morning of October 7, I had 250 bookings lined up. By 9 o’clock, we had to cancel everything. We closed the café for two and a half weeks, and during that time, our employees volunteered to bake for the soldiers stationed in the Golan. When we finally reopened, our team had shrunk from 25 employees to just six. We operated as a takeaway, with soldiers as our only customers.
In late February, we held a pop-up in Tel Aviv. It was a huge success, and many people came to support us. By early April, we returned to a completely deserted Golan. During this time, sirens were frequent, and even the few visitors who came left quickly. We were left isolated, with even the reserve soldiers having departed. That’s when the real struggle began.
By April, we were operating at just 30% capacity. I knew I was losing a lot of money, but my priority was to continue supporting the employees. Despite how well loved this place is, I simply couldn’t sustain it financially under these conditions.
Mattarello bakery closed in July 2024.
