Zuta: Cocktails and Charcoal in a Jerusalem Courtyard

The first thing that hits you is the scent of rosemary. Not from the garden, though the courtyard is lush enough, but from the gin. A bartender is torching a sprig over a coupe glass, sending thin curls of fragrant smoke drifting past the Jerusalem stone walls. Behind the bar, bottles line the shelves like antique apothecary jars, glinting amber and emerald under dim pendant lights. Somewhere further back, through an archway leading to the 1868 dining room, a burst of flame erupts from the charcoal grill. You have walked through a fine dining restaurant to reach this place, and that passage feels deliberate: Zuta exists on the other side of formality, a space where the same kitchen that plates elaborate tasting menus pivots to sushi rolls, beef skewers, and cocktails built with obsessive precision.

Chef Yankale Turjeman, a native Jerusalemite who honed his craft in London before returning to run 1868, opened Zuta as something between a companion and a counterpoint to his flagship. Where 1868 is white tablecloths and structured courses, Zuta is low couches, shared plates, and drinks that arrive with stories attached. The cocktail program, designed by mixologist Amit Gilad, operates under a principle that would be unremarkable in Tel Aviv but carries real weight in Jerusalem's kosher dining scene: every component is made in house. The syrups, the bitters, the infusions, the shrubs. In a city where most bars pour from bottles and leave it at that, this commitment to craft sets Zuta apart before you even taste anything.