Kosher Blog

The Story of Decks

This summer, my family and I went up to Tiberias, mostly to go to Decks. Decks is a world famous restaurant with a tremendous reputation for service, quality, and excellence. They have a beautiful spot on the Kineret Sea, with patrons actually sitting on a deck overlooking the lake and the beautiful mountain range. Their specialties include rare mullard (moullard, not mallard, a rare species of duck), Adriatic Sea lamb ribs, cast-iron fillet, and a variety of other delicacies.

When we were seated, the woman mentioned that she would have to give us Hebrew menus and personally translate because there had not yet been English versions translated. I quickly remarked, “Why not? I’ll do it.” The woman almost lost her duck supper. “What?! Are you kidding?” I knew how to take this one. “Of course I will. Plus, I have a degree from an American university, I am an expert in both languages, it’s no problem.” She was ecstactic. “This would take us months, it would be so expensive, I cannot believe this.”

She brought us free drinks. She brought out the most beautiful appetizers. Tasty! Delectable. Unique. Diversity of flavor. It was fantastic. Then, she brought out four different entrees; we shared them among us, and we were all incredibly impressed with the meal. She kept shmoozing with us, complimenting us, she was loving it even more than we were. Mind you, we still had not done anything for her. “But you are all so kind,” she said.

In the middle of the meal, all the lights went dark, a ship came in from the sea with lights flashing and fireworks, and the announcer blasted, “Welcome to the Loike family from New York.” We were having a blast.

After dessert, we asked for the bill, and she said “It’s on the house.” Now we’re talking over $200 for four people. We said at least we need to tip the waitress. “No,” she said, “I’ve done that for you.”

We stayed up until 1 AM, translating the exact style and flavor of the menu into English, making sure to maintain the fine level of the menu, matching the language with the culinary experience.

We also made sure to add in our family’s famous Loike Salad. “A colorful salad with croutons and a pleasant kick,” was the tagline. We decided 36 shekel was a fair price. (The Loike Salad is famous, you’ll know if you’ve tried it.)

So, we told her we included the salad, and she had her executive chef buy all the ingredients. We went into the kitchen, showed them the secrets, and together with the Muslim chefs (who could not taste it because of the balsamic vinegar), we prepared enough salad for the entire restaurant.

That afternoon, when we dropped off the menu, the manager said, “What are you doing tonight?” We said we’re going next door to Pagoda, the famous fine Chinese restaurant, to try that out.

“I OWN Pagoda,” she replied. “You cannot. Come here. Decks is better.” So we did. We came back, and had everything on the menu that we did not try the first night, except the moullard, which we had to have again.

Once again, she would not let us pay, insisting that what we did for her was invaluable. In fact, that night, they were already using our menus. We went up to one of the customers and said, “Excuse me, pardon for asking, but what do you think about the menu?”

“It’s very good,” they said, “Clearly it was not written by an Israeli.”

So that was how we got two free meals from a world-class restaurant. And it why we send people there whenever they go to Israel, insisting that they request the Loike Salad.