My top ten list of post-aliyah moments to be filed under “I Felt Like A True Israeli When…” would include, without a doubt, making a Yom Ha’atzmaut barbeque (known as al ha’eish or mangal, borrowed from Arabic) in the park. Those whose home includes a garden or spacious balcony might choose to hold their festivities on private turf, but the truth is that packing up all the requisite gear – folding table, portable grill, bag of charcoals and boxes of igniters, blue and white paper goods, plus all the traditional fixins from pickles to watermelon – and heading outdoors at the same time as thousands of fellow Israelis across the country is some kind of wonderful. Grilling with our family alongside others of various stripes, brothers and sisters all, filled me with a rush of pride and sense of belonging that Fourth of July celebrations never quite did.
I still remember our first few years out there when random strangers patiently showed us (urbane but clueless former Manhattanites) how to keep the coals smoking and actually achieve cooked meat. Hamburgers with a side of arevut: Food never tasted so good.
