Food: Dining at The Deli

In the sleepy seaside town in South Africa where I grew up, we had a name for people like Denis Phillips. We called them “Main Ous” (pronounced Ohs), and the appellation was used with awe. It was an amorphous sort of title for those who inhabited a special zone. Denis, for example, was tall and tanned and blonde and gorgeous. He surfed. He smoked. At 16, he was sort of too special even to greet. Forty years later and out of touch with Denis for decades, I get an assignment to cover a deli in Netanya, overlooking the sea. And who owns it? Yup, you guessed.


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