The Jerusalem Post’s intrepid photographer Marc Israel Sellem didn’t plan on making a lifelong friend over a decade ago when he went to shoot a special event at the Eucalyptus restaurant, featuring kosher but rarely consumed foods from the Bible. After photographing exotic delicacies like water buffalo, kingklip fish, and guinea fowl, Sellem was still searching for a breathtaking photo for the front page.
In an impulsive move, Sellem approached chef and owner Moshe Basson and asked him to come up with something interesting for the camera.
Thinking on his feet, Basson grabbed a pair of cow testicles, doused them in oil, threw them into a scorching hot pan, and then tossed them in the air with a flourish as the pieces of meat were engulfed in flames.
In an instant, a friendship was born and a cover photo was found.
The two friends and we writers met up again at Basson’s iconic high-end Jerusalem restaurant in Hutzot Hayotzer on a crisp spring evening. Basson was in immaculate chef’s whites, his signature braid neatly groomed, his voice low and melodious. We discussed his new cookbook, why we must treat our bodies well by feeding ourselves that which not only nourishes our bodies but also our spirits, and the impact of a post-Oct. 7 world.
Health is wealth
“Don’t eat a lot of bread,” Basson cautions when piping-hot focaccia and dips, the first of many dishes, arrive at our outdoor table, nestled in a verdant corner filled with rose bushes and assorted flora – including herbs for plucking for use in the cuisine. It is also the first tidbit of advice the veteran chef offers us when it comes to food.
“My next book will be about living like Rambam and eating [mindfully for a long life] like Methuselah. There’s a lot of science about this, but medical journals are about 20 years late in writing about it,” he begins, launching into a discussion about an upcoming book he’s working on, well before we even mention his new cookbook currently on store shelves. That is perhaps a metaphor for Basson himself – a man always thinking about the next step without ever venturing into complacency.
“There are two main poisons – sugar and hydrogenated oils,” he goes on. “They’re inflammatory agents.” Even celebrated grapeseed oil is not all it’s cracked up to be, according to him, and one should stick to olive and avocado oils.
Basson and his family have gone down the rabbit hole of healthy eating, and it is evident in his cooking today. He explains that he’s a big proponent of incorporating anti-inflammatory spices like turmeric and ensuring that tomatoes make an appearance on one’s personal menu at least once a week – waxing poetic about the wonders of roasted tomatoes. Also on his approved list: eating fermented foods like sauerkraut, rich in good probiotic bacteria; and cheese and wine, which is why he doesn’t blink as the server fills up our glasses of chilled rosé. We then go on to share a fine bottle of Katlav red.
“Everything is really about moderation. You don’t want to overindulge, but you also don’t want to restrict yourself too much,” he says, adding that much of his life is influenced by Torah philosophy.
“I used to get colds throughout the winter, but now I’ve managed to stay healthy all year around,” he boasts.
Basson’s reverence for the Torah is evident in his new Eucalyptus Cookbook, where he shares personal stories and cites Bible verses as inspiration for many of his creative concoctions. Where else would you find a recipe for white bean soup while also learning about the biblical origins of couscous and why King Solomon was a big fan? In this way, the book takes us on a masterful culinary journey where a reader learns not only how to cook, but also how to live.
Between recipes incorporating his signature fusion of Levantine, Jewish, and Arab cooking, such as maqluba (always presented in his restaurant with a flourish) and baklava, he shares childhood memories of food and traditions from his native Iraq (having immigrated to Israel with his family at nine months). He also shares how he’ll routinely rummage through Jerusalem’s forests to find fresh, locally sourced ingredients. The book spans some 100 kosher recipes with appeal for a variety of readers, from carnivores to the gluten-free.
One doesn’t need to be a master chef to make flavorful and memorable dishes, Basson conveys; rather, good cooking is based on having the freshest ingredients on hand, patience, and love.
He grins as we point out that his whole life revolves around food (“So does mine!” Erica chimes in happily) – his life philosophy, livelihood, and hobbies all centered around what we put in our stomachs.
“I didn’t notice, but it’s true! Food is tactile – you touch it, you smell it, you breathe it in – it’s everything,” Basson says contemplatively. “When you’re born with a love of food, it interests you from every aspect. When you hear the crunch of tearing up a piece of bread, for example, you want to know everything about its story: Why does it sound like that, why does it taste like that, and why do you feel that way after eating it?”
The road to Eucalyptus
Basson’s culinary journey began in 1960 when he planted a small eucalyptus tree in his parents’ Jerusalem backyard. Decades later, when the tree grew strong and tall, it was there that the Basson family opened the restaurant’s first location. Ever since, the chef has been applying his own modern twist on food inspired by an ancient civilization.
Today, he’s cemented himself as one of Israel’s most respected chefs, so much so that he was featured in a Netflix documentary, Stories of a Generation with Pope Francis, where prominent creative individuals over age 70 share their philosophies on life with young filmmakers. Esteemed figures such as Jane Goodal, Martin Scorsese, and our very own Basson are featured in the four-part documentary, where each episode is centered on one of four themes: “Love,” “Dreams,” “Struggle,” and “Work.”
A few weeks shy of his 74th birthday, Basson is showing no signs of slowing down; but, like many in the country, he carries an air of melancholy.
Before even broaching the subject of Oct. 7, Basson ventures into solemn territory when he recalls his first visit to Martef HaShoah (the Chamber of the Holocaust) on Mount Zion. A school trip to the dark cave-like rooms of the memorial at age 12 has haunted him ever since.
“My whole concept of life was based on what I saw then. It was always lying dormant under the surface, but I never really knew how to process it. Because of this, I ended up being a Golani [Sayeret] officer in the IDF. Everything stemmed from that moment. In my mind, I invented the term ‘Never again.’ I thought of this phrase before I even heard it,” he recounts.
“When Oct. 7 happened, a lot of people around me began evoking the Holocaust,” he continues. “But this is not the Holocaust. We’re not there. Now, I’m more afraid of what’s happening with our allies who are starting to abandon us. The idea that they are teasing us with an embargo… How can they tell us that they’re our friends? I’m also concerned that this kind of talk only emboldens our enemies.”
In the midst of this serious discussion, a server arrives with an impressive dish: Asado on a mound of fluffy polenta. Basson immediately reverts to chef mode, glancing at the plate with disappointment.
“Tell him to put a garnish on the plate; he can’t just send it out that way,” Basson says sternly.
In an instant, he’s back to the topic at hand with aplomb.
A cocktail with heart
Tonight, Thursday, May 16, is a notable evening at Eucalyptus, we learn, as they are serving “A Cocktail for Carmel” – named for the hostage, still in captivity, who grew up in Kibbutz Be’eri and whose 40th birthday is this night. Diners are encouraged to order her favorite gin-based drink, then take a picture and tag @BringCarmelBack. (See box for recipe.)
This heartfelt initiative leads us to ask about his involvement in the Chefs for Peace organization. Does he still believe we can live in harmony with our neighbors? He smiles sadly.
“This is the million-dollar question. In a way we must, but I’m so disappointed. We have a WhatsApp group for Chefs for Peace, and it drives me crazy that people write cheerful phrases like ‘Good morning!’” I can’t pretend like nothing happened,” he says, shaking his head.
As for how the war has impacted Basson in other respects, he acknowledges it has taken a financial and physical toll on him. He points to the cover of his cookbook, which is a picture of him taken a few years ago. “I know I look more beautiful now,” he jokes. “You do,” we reassure him.
The future
As to what’s next, Basson reveals that foot traffic since the Hamas attack has been virtually nonexistent. While there is a bustle and ongoing stream of customers on this evening, he says it’s unusual. The lack of customers during the war and the blow businesses took during the COVID-19 crisis are issues the chef can no longer afford to be in denial about.
As a result, he’s been in the red for months and has made the decision to let us, and our readers, in on the fact that he is hemorrhaging money – some days just to keep the lights on.
Basson is not despondent, though; and after having had to temporarily shut his doors during the Second Intifada, he knows this period too shall pass.
“I don’t want to close down, but if I do, I know this place isn’t going anywhere and we will come back. But for the sake of continuity, I’d like to stay open for as long as I can,” he says. He is open to not just catering family events such as bar mitzvahs and sheva brachot but also to heading to international locations to do chef demos.
Bringing relief to everyone at the table, the succulent Asado returns – this time with the requested garnish. On most nights, such a dish would be the crown jewel of the meal. Not so when dining at Eucalyptus, where we also dive into mouthwatering dishes like fire-roasted eggplant with raw tahini and aged pomegranate syrup; roasted hot and crispy cauliflower in Har Bracha tahini; a Syrian-style kube beef tartare infused with wheat, mint, and onion; and, of course, Basson’s famed maqluba, a casserole of rice, vegetables, saffron, and almond yogurt.
It was a decadent meal for somber times. However, considering neither of us regularly overindulges, and our generous host is a proponent of embracing everything life has to offer (within reason of course), the menu, ambiance, and conversation all seemed to dovetail into a magical evening.■