Hummus, for me, is best served cold, its flavors sharp and balanced, crafted with the precision of a master chef. A true hummus eatery is no less than a fine dining restaurant, demanding consistency and genius.
Few carry this magic across generations, but the Roni Full hummus restaurant in Tel Aviv was a gem. Located at the Eilat-Elifelet corner, it outshone even Jaffa’s best. I’d park my taxi hundreds of meters away, braving rain or sun to join the queue, knowing no hummus in the city could compare.
Roni himself was always there, eyes everywhere, bearing the weight of his craft with intense focus. Then came the shock: after Hummus Asaf left for Herzliya, Roni relocated to Bat Yam, not on a main street but a side alley with tables on a slight slope. Driving by one day, I spotted it, my heart racing like a child rediscovering a favorite dish.
Two days later, I returned. Inside, steaming pots of hummus and fava beans filled the air with nostalgia. I ordered my usual, no egg, for 35 shekels ($11, even with egg included). The plate’s aroma followed me back to the taxi, where I paused to savor it—a memory unchanged.
The taste was that of pure Tel Aviv, now in Bat Yam. The fava beans were exquisite, chickpeas sending shivers with each bite, the hummus a perfect blend of subtle sweetness, olive oil and tahini’s hidden depth. Every scoop of hummus, meticulously chosen, cleaned the plate to the last speck.
Generous portions came with an offer of a free hummus refill, though finishing the first was a challenge. Next time, I’ll try the egg—I’ve already paid for it. For a moment, time stood still, lost in a plate that carried Roni’s unwavering dedication to perfection.