In Israel More and More Non-Kosher Restaurants Convert To Kosher

 

 The Israeli economic newspaper Calcalist recently published an in-depth article on the growing trend of non-kosher restaurants converting to kosher—a shift that, until just a few years ago, was considered unthinkable in Tel Aviv, a city long associated with secular, free-spirited, and innovative cuisine.

The story begins with the opening of “Rova Aleph”, a kosher restaurant led by chef Evyatar Malka, launched at the location previously occupied by “L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon”, a branch of the famed non-kosher French chef’s chain. The new restaurant now operates under an official kashrut certification from the Israeli Rabbinate.

But this isn’t an isolated case. Celebrity chef Haim Cohen, known for his unapologetically authentic Israeli cuisine, recently opened a kosher restaurant in Bnei Brak. The MachaneYehuda Group, headed by Assaf Granit, a Michelin star winning Israeli chef, opened two kosher establishments, and Yuval Ben Neriah—another Tel Aviv culinary icon—also made the shift last summer.

Yossi Ettinger, co-founder of the “DatiLicious” community with over 200,000 followers, says this change stems from genuine demand:

“Chefs who never considered this audience before are now realizing it’s a serious consumer force.”

His partner, Eli Helman, offers a socio-economic explanation:

“The charedi middle class has grown. Many are in high-tech, and since they don’t go to the movies or theater, dining out has become their main form of entertainment—even in upscale restaurants. You see couples spending 1,500 shekels($400) on a meal, and they keep kosher.”

While many welcome this shift, others strongly oppose it. Aviram Katz, owner of a Tel Aviv restaurant, doesn’t hide his stance:

“I’m open to everyone, but I oppose coercion. Being secular is a valid ideology. Kosher as an agenda stifles creativity. I don’t want to collaborate with a religious system that ties my hands. We believe in freedom, and we’ll fight for the right to serve pork.”

On the other hand, some restaurateurs speak of a more personal connection. Shahar Segal, partner of chef Eyal Shani, says that the interaction with the religious-Zionist public, especially during wartime, affirmed their decision:

“If I didn’t have a kosher certificate, I couldn’t serve 70% of our clientele. I’m a political person, and I don’t want to be closed off to only one group.”

Even Itzik HaGadol, one of Israel’s oldest meat restaurant institutions, recently opted for kosher certification. Owner Ben Assouline explains that the war and a personal spiritual awakening led to the decision:

“We wanted to do something for the soul and for family. In the six months since becoming kosher, we’ve maintained our revenue, but we’ve also seen how deep the change runs. We used to sell 100 fish dishes a week; now only 15. People ate fish because the meat wasn’t kosher.”

When asked if there were customers who opposed the change, Assouline confidently replies:

“A few. But for every one who left, dozens came—people who hadn’t eaten with us in 20 years. Now there’s a kippah-wearer at every second table—and it’s actually a nice sight.”

But not everyone shares the positive sentiment. In Jerusalem, where most restaurants are already kosher-certified, some secularist chefs feel like the last ones standing. Daniela Lerer, owner of a Jerusalem bar, expresses clear frustration:

“Every time I hear about another place going kosher—it feels like betrayal. Sure, it’s profitable, but are we living only for money? I’m proud not to have a kosher certificate, and I get angry when people ask if I do.”

The open question remains—is this just a passing trend, or a permanent transformation that will reshape the boundaries between religion and secularism, tradition and culinary creativity? One thing is certain: the success of these kosher chefs is leaving no one indifferent.