In the Kitchen with Henny: Aliyah, with a side of autumn

So, I’ll briefly share mine.

I grew up hearing my father remind us that our true home is in Israel and that this is where the future of the Jewish people lies. But it wasn’t until 23 years after that first trip that I finally boarded that one-way flight.

There were always reasons to wait: college, a job I loved, a close-knit community. But the longing never subsided. Then God did me the greatest favor. I lost that job; friends I was close with moved away; and, most importantly, my brother and his family had made aliyah earlier that year.

Suddenly, I had no more excuses and had a place to go straight from the airport. One month later, I was on the plane, my heart racing as the blue waters and skyline of Tel Aviv came into view. This was it.

Just before landing, I reached into my pocket and realized I didn’t have any keys. No house keys, no office keys, no car keys. For a moment I panicked, and then it hit me: You don’t need keys when you’re coming home.

When I stepped off the plane, my brother was waiting, holding a big balloon that read “Welcome Home!”

I could go on, but let’s face it, we all came here for the food.

We left our birthplaces and finally came home, so let’s eat!

Often, many olim feel that they miss the crisp air and colorful beauty of autumn. In Israel, we may not get the changing leaves, but we can still bring those cozy fall flavors into our kitchens – infused, of course, with a little Israeli flair.

In my first apartment in Jerusalem, I shared space with three roommates. We each had our own way of cooking and eating, but one food we all had in common, besides ice cream, was ptitim. I remember often walking into the kitchen and seeing my roommate sautéing her ptitim, with a kettle boiling in the background, ready to pour the hot water into the pot.

That beautiful sizzling sound when the water hits the toasted couscous would instantly make my mouth water. She would catch my face and quickly toss in a bit more, knowing that, like it or not, she would be sharing some with me.

Stovetop method: In a bowl, combine 2 Tbsp. olive oil with garlic powder, paprika, cumin, turmeric, black pepper, and 1 tsp. salt to form a paste. Coat the chicken well. Larger pieces work best for this method. Heat a large pan over medium-high heat and sear the chicken for 6-8 minutes on each side until golden. Remove the chicken and set aside.

Oven method: Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F). In a large bowl, combine the chicken with the spices and a drizzle of olive oil, tossing to coat evenly. Let it sit a few minutes to absorb the flavors.

In a large baking dish, add the ptitim and onions, then mix in the seasoned chicken. Pour in the water and salt, stirring everything together to combine. Cover tightly with foil and bake for 30 minutes, then uncover and bake for another 12-15 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and the ptitim are golden and fluffy.

This dish is cozy, flavorful, and authentically Israeli – the kind of meal that fills your kitchen with the sound, aroma, and taste of home.

One of the first things I learned after making aliyah is that silan, or date honey, can do almost anything maple syrup can – maybe even better. The “honey” in the phrase “a land flowing with milk and honey” actually refers to dates, and silan’s rich, caramel-like sweetness adds incredible depth to roasted vegetables.

Here, it gives butternut squash a glossy finish and a warm, autumn flavor with Israeli flair.

Preheat the oven to 200°C (400°F) and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. In a large bowl, toss the butternut squash cubes with olive oil, silan, cinnamon, salt, and pepper until evenly coated.

Spread the cubes in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet and roast for 25-30 minutes, stirring once halfway through, until the squash is golden and caramelized around the edges. Serve warm or at room temperature, garnished with chopped parsley or pumpkin seeds if desired.

Sweet, simple, and perfectly golden – it’s the taste of fall meeting the sweetness of Israel.

We spent this past Shabbat with good family friends who live in Ramat Beit Shemesh. My friend Gila, an incredible hostess and cook, served these delicious and beautifully presented zucchini slices with Friday night dinner. She told me she actually got the recipe from her mom, which made it even more special. I love zucchini, so I was thrilled to have some, but honestly, its visual appeal made it even more appetizing.

The deep score marks allow the oil, garlic, and za’atar to seep in and create flavor and texture in every bite.

It’s one of those side dishes that look impressive but take almost no effort to make.

Slice each zucchini in half lengthwise. Using a small knife, score the surface diagonally in both directions to create a diamond pattern, being careful not to cut all the way through. Brush the cut sides with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper.

Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat and place the zucchini halves scored-side down. Pan sear for 6-8 minutes, until golden brown. Transfer the zucchini to a parchment-lined baking sheet, scored-side up. In a small bowl, mix the remaining olive oil with crushed garlic and za’atar, and gently brush over the zucchini slices.

Bake at 200°C /390°F for about 10 minutes, until tender and aromatic.

You can pan-sear the zucchini ahead of time and finish the oven step shortly before Shabbat or serving. This dish looks beautiful, tastes incredible, and takes almost no effort – the perfect combination for any table.

These cookies are the perfect blend of fall comfort and Israeli creativity. I love how chickpeas, one of Israel’s most common pantry staples, can turn into soft, chewy, perfectly spiced cookies that taste like home. They are gluten-free, easy to make, and full of warm pumpkin spice flavor. No flour, no fuss, and ready in minutes.

If you don’t have pumpkin spice on hand, you can easily make your own using the recipe below.

Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F) and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Place the chickpeas, nut butter, maple syrup, vanilla extract, baking powder, salt, and pumpkin spice in a food processor. Blend until smooth and creamy, scraping down the sides as needed. For easier rolling, refrigerate the dough for 30 minutes. Scoop small spoonfuls of dough onto the baking sheet, leaving space between each cookie.

Flatten slightly with the back of a spoon or your fingers. Bake for 10-12 minutes, until the cookies are lightly golden and set around the edges. Let cool on the baking sheet for a few minutes before transferring to a rack.

Soft, chewy, and filled with cozy spice, these cookies prove that chickpeas can do much more than make hummus.

AS THE seasons change and the air cools ever so slightly, I find myself drawn to the same flavors that once marked autumn abroad: cinnamon and pumpkin spice, roasted veggies, and the comfort of something baking in the oven.

But here in Israel, those same flavors take on new meaning. The spices, silan, za’atar, and even the chickpeas tell a story of homecoming.

We are one big, eclectic family from all corners of the world, each bringing our own unique flavors that give us comfort. Our land is rich with the people and experiences that shape our home. I am so grateful to call this place my home, now and forever.  