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Bow Before the (Burger) King

Why do Israelis—who mock Tel Aviv’s Burger King—eat prefab burgers in a town so rich in edible treasures?

by
Liel Leibovitz
February 18, 2016
Evan Agostini/Getty Images
The Burger King mascot, The King, in Detroit, Michigan, February 3, 2006. Evan Agostini/Getty Images
Evan Agostini/Getty Images
The Burger King mascot, The King, in Detroit, Michigan, February 3, 2006. Evan Agostini/Getty Images

Tel Aviv takes eating very seriously.

You can elbow your way through the stalls in the Carmel Market where you’ll find young chefs chopping up freshly delivered vegetables in cool, narrow restaurants; you can stroll up the stately Rothschild Boulevard and enter trendy cafés; or you can peruse any of the hundreds of burger joints, falafel stands, and hummus haunts of which this gregarious city is so proud. But if you want a bite of the hottest culinary sensation in town, you’re going to have to stand in line for 20, maybe 30 minutes. And only when it’s finally your turn will one of the hurried cashiers ask you just how you would like your Whopper.

Having opened a restaurant—if that is the mot juste—across from Rabin Square, Burger King is all the rage these days in Tel Aviv. Every Israeli you meet mocks it. Radio morning shows poke fun, too: Who would eat a prefab burger in a town so rich in edible treasures? But come any time, day or night, and the line snakes down Ibn Gvirol Street, dozens of people deep, many of whom then leave wearing the chain’s ubiquitous cardboard crown.

Had this been the Whopper’s first time in town, you could at least attribute this troubling trend to a passing bout of curiosity, a strong but ephemeral desire to nibble on a fresh and exciting bite of America. But Burger King has been to Israel twice before, failing miserably each time. Last time around, in the early 2000s, the company was so eager to survive in the local market that it merged with the Burgeranch, Israel’s veteran native hamburger chain. Even this drastic move, the fast food Israeli equivalent of a green card marriage, failed miserably, and by 2010 the King was dethroned and kicked out of the country.

That was so six years ago. I tried talking to the folks in line on Ibn Gvirol, tried seeing who they were or what they hoped to feel once they chew on their patty and their bun. But the huddled masses in line—soldiers and mothers, elderly men at their leisure and young start up hot shots pressed for time on their lunch break—just shrugged their shoulders. “It’s just what I feel like eating,” they said. “It’s good.”

For now, then, the King’s reign is complete. But winter is coming: a short distance away, across from the Old Port and its culinary cornucopia, a Papa John’s shop opens soon.

Liel Leibovitz is editor-at-large for Tablet Magazine and a host of its weekly culture podcast Unorthodox and daily Talmud podcast Take One. He is the editor of Zionism: The Tablet Guide.