Simo: Fire, Laffa and a Grandfather's Table Above the Waves

The first thing to arrive is not a dish but a spread: small plates of salad crowd the table, and beside them comes a laffa lifted from the taboon so recently that it still exhales steam when torn. Beyond the windows the Mediterranean is turning from slate to black, and from somewhere below drifts the resinous smell of charcoal catching on an open mangal. This is how dinner begins at Simo, at Herbert Samuel 78 on the Tel Aviv promenade, and it tells you what the kitchen believes. Generosity comes first, fire comes second, and everything else follows at a respectful distance. The restaurant opened in the autumn of 2026 and already carries itself like a place that knows exactly what it is: a grill house for people who want to eat well within earshot of the sea.

The opening move is the table spread, priced per diner. Expect baladi eggplant with a smoked, collapsing center, hummus served in several variations, and a run of cold salads that arrive in volume rather than in careful little quenelles. The laffa is the anchor. It is blistered, pliable and slightly sweet from the oven, and it does the work of a spoon, a plate and a napkin all at once. Order a few of the starters on top: the veal cigars are crisp shells around dark, savory meat, and the sweet potato steak is a charred slab that gives vegetarians at the table something with real weight.