All across Israel, you can find places selling supposedly "original" bourekas. They're so far from original that I personally refuse to write about any of them. Every one of these places is ready to swear, while lying straight to my face, that they made the pastries themselves that very morning.
Come on, guys. At least don't lie to a chubby guy like me. Especially when you haven't considered that I spend enough time out in the field, eating at the bakeries where those bourekas actually come from, to recognize immediately when you've brought me a frozen pastry and simply reheated it.
At the new Bourekas Frishman, which recently opened in Tel Aviv, not only do they not lie about it, they're actually proud of the truth. Their bourekas come all the way from Bourekas Levinsky in the Florentin neighborhood of south Tel Aviv, and they're reheated on-site.
Finding places worth writing about in Tel Aviv isn't easy. The city is usually too expensive for my taste, which is precisely why I decided to focus exclusively on food that's genuinely affordable. Still, there's no denying that Tel Aviv has a thriving street food scene, even if some overly branded new food complexes tend to open with great fanfare only to close shortly afterward.
But at the corner of Frishman and Dizengoff streets, you can still find inexpensive, delicious and accessible street food, with some places managing to survive for years.
The new bourekas shop sits between a hardware store and a clothing shop, next to another street food stand. As you approach the counter, with the ovens behind it, you notice a small sign proudly announcing exactly where the bourekas come from, complete with the Bourekas Levinsky logo.
That honesty immediately won me over.
I ordered the spinach and cheese bourekas, the signature offering at Bourekas Levinsky. I'm a Tel Avivian, after all, and I've eaten this particular pastry more than enough times to know exactly what it should taste like. There are also the usual alternatives, including potato and plain cheese bourekas. They even serve ziva, a rolled, cheese-filled pastry with toppings, although that's less my thing.
The reheated bourekas comes out of the oven at a temperature that could practically cause burns, with impressive clouds of steam rising from it. I wasn't intimidated. I took a bite and discovered that the advertising was entirely accurate.
It really was the same bourekas served at Levinsky Market, complete with all the classic accompaniments: the crushed tomato sauce traditionally served with jachnun, a pairing whose popularity I still can't quite explain, along with green olives, schug, harissa and pickles.
The bourekas is sliced right there at the counter, and then you wait for the remaining steam to escape. The spinach and cheese filling oozes through every vulnerable opening in the countless layers of puff pastry, and every bite delivers pure enjoyment, combining rich flavors with a longstanding Tel Aviv culinary tradition.
And to think that all of this costs just 30 shekels, right in the heart of Tel Aviv.





