As an American immigrant to Israel, Lital Friedman knows a thing or two about pancakes — including that Israel’s crepe-style versions don’t often stack up favorably against the fluffy style popular in the United States.
But she didn’t make the trip from Jerusalem to the American-style pancake pop-up in Tel Aviv’s Sarona Market for culinary reasons. She came because Keith Siegel’s Pancake House honors the former hostage long known for his Shabbat-morning tradition of making pancakes for his family.
Keith Siegel was released from Gaza last month after 484 days in captivity.
“Like all of us, I’ve been following the hostages since the beginning of the war and this is another way to support them,” said Friedman, who moved from Boca Raton, Florida, years ago. “There’s so much sadness around this, so when there’s a celebration, you want to be part of it.”
Siegel’s recipe first drew attention when it was published in a cookbook compiled by the Hostages and Missing Families Forum last year. His daughter, Shir, began posting to her 45,000 Instagram followers each Saturday about how much she missed her dad’s pancakes. Soon, people started tagging her in their own pancake photos. By the time Siegel was freed, she was receiving hundreds of pancake pictures every weekend.
Last month, the pancake movement exploded when Shir asked Israelis to cook pancakes in honor of her father’s return. The post went viral, and his recipe appeared in newspapers across the country.
The pop-up aims to harness the public affinity for Keith’s pancakes to help support him and his family — including his wife Aviva, who herself was held hostage for 51 days before being freed and devoting herself to advocating for his release — as they settle into a new normal, far from their longtime home on Kibbutz Kfar Aza.
While the government offers released hostages some support, families have increasingly crowdfunded to cover unmet needs. So for the two-day lifespan of the kosher-certified shop, all proceeds from the pay-what-you-wish menu are going to the Siegel family’s rehabilitation fund.
And a rotating team of Israeli pastry students and top chefs volunteered their time to cook and serve the fluffy confections.
On Wednesday, the pop-up’s first day, the line snaked around the corner. Shir addressed the crowd, telling them how touched her father had been when he heard how many people had been making his pancakes every Shabbat.
But she reminded them that the Pancake House wasn’t just about the food — or even about her father. Its mission, she said, was to raise awareness for the 59 hostages still held in Gaza.
The shop features a large poster calling attention to the plight of Gali and Ziv Berman, twin brothers who are the only remaining living hostages from Kfar Aza. And Siegel himself wore a shirt featuring Matan Angrest, with whom he spent time in captivity, as he sat at an outdoor table and watched the fanfare.
Siegel said he had dreamed of pancakes several times a day while in captivity, along with other good memories of his family. The recipe is the same one his late mother, Gladys, made for him growing up in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Gladys died just 60 days before his release.
“Mom was an excellent cook and baker,” he said. “And most of all, a wonderful human being.”
Food is in Siegel’s family: A son, Shai, is the co-owner of an acclaimed chain of hummus restaurants. But Siegel emphasized that he isn’t a “food specialist,” saying that for him, the joy of eating goes far beyond taste.
“I don’t know if something needs more salt or not,” he said. “For me, enjoying food is about more than the taste — it’s the environment, it’s being with the people I love.”
As he spoke, Siegel was constantly approached by well-wishers seeking selfies or the chance to share a few words. One woman, Varda Ben Ami, told him how happy she was to see him home and wished him luck in his recovery. She later said in an interview that meeting him in person gave her goosebumps.
“After seeing poster after poster of him for so long, seeing him in real life is just really emotional,” she said, tearing up.
The best pancakes ever!
At one point, two young girls exclaimed that they were eating the best pancakes they’d ever tasted, prompting a wide grin from Siegel.
At a nearby table, Friedman, polishing off a vegan pancake topped with strawberries and whipped cream, agreed with the assessment.
“These are the best pancakes I’ve had in Israel,” she said, before adding wryly, “Though I’ve never actually had pancakes at a restaurant before. It’s not really a thing here.”
Siegel noted that the pancakes could easily be made vegan — he had been vegan for six years before being taken hostage and hoped to return to it one day.
But the secret to their fluffiness, he said, was buttermilk. He pulled up an image of a Tnuva product on his phone that he said was the closest approximation to American buttermilk.
Celebrity chefs including Karin Goren, Haim Cohen and Ofer Ben Natan contributed custom toppings to the pop-up. But for Siegel, the best pancake topping remains the standby from his childhood in the United States: simple maple syrup.
