The Making of Zahav

After dithering around with all sorts of permutations for the Zahav logo, Steven Cook and Michael Solomonov have arrived on the image you see here.

With that out of the way, the partners are going forth to stamp this logo on everything. The outdoor sign is on order. So are business cards and menus.

Enter another challenge: Zahav's menus will double as placemats. It's partly a matter of economics. Every time a restaurant plops on a fresh tablecloth, it's 50 to 75 cents.

At Zahav, the menu-as-placemat idea is also a re-creation of the common practice in Israel. A paper placemat, as you'd imagine, is a heck of a lot cheaper (and yes, they'll use recycled paper).

But as Cook explains, they need to buy a press run of 10,000 placemats -- maybe six months' worth. Restaurants usually tweak their menus as they go along. Also, most restaurants change their menus seasonally.

"We're going to be living with them for a while," Cook says.

To add to this, they will need to handwrite prices. If some dish is unavailable -- let's say an ingredient is out of season -- no price will be included, he says.

(Systems problems delayed this entry, which should have been posted on or about Feb. 1.)

Few industries appreciate youthful ambition and energy as much as the restaurant business.

Georges Perrier was 24 when he landed in Philadelphia and barely 27 when he opened Le Bec-Fin. Neil Stein was 24 when he rolled out his first restaurant, Mimi Says, in Wyncote.

And so we have Max Shapiro, 24, who will run Zahav. Shapiro is an L.A. transplant who, in his senior year at Penn, started working as a food runner at Marigold Kitchen for Zahav owners Michael Solomonov and Steven Cook. Shapiro got an earlier taste of the business as a Penn junior, when instead of studying abroad in the conventional sense he worked in a kitchen in Florence, Italy.

When it came time to graduate, Shapiro headed to New York and got a waiter's job at Craft, which grew into a captain's job. When part of the Craft crew opened Insieme, Shapiro went there as a floor manager.

Last year, Cook and Solomonov were in the early stages of planning Zahav and thought of Shapiro, whose wine palate is well-educated. Now, he's back and he's become a popular figure with the city's crop of wine salespeople.

Soon as the orange liquor license placard hits a restaurant window, the wine salespeople begin swarming. Shapiro has met with at least a half-dozen of them. They come bearing bottles and price lists. Greg Cohen of Southern Wines & Spirits dropped by recently with samples from companies including Lulu B, Joseph Drouhin, and Boutari (a Greek vineyard).

Shapiro wants to stock 10 to 20 in Zahav, and more in the Quarter.

(This entry was delayed.)

The city Department of Licenses and Inspection has signed off on Zahav's electrical wiring, and now the crews are putting up the drywall. In a week or so, the aluminum-studded framework will be enclosed, and Zahav will look more like a restaurant.

Before the Zahav-ites' big fact- (and fat-) trip to Israel, the partners have many loose ends to tie up.

Here's one: What will the banquettes be covered with? Cook holds out a swatch of the selected fabric. (He's been crinkling the piece in his hands to replicate the distressed finish that he hopes the banquettes will have.)

Drywalling has been proceeding quickly and efficiently, says construction guy Ofer. Shortly after the city gave its all-clear on the electrical work, he and his crew began putting up half-inch slabs. The two views you see here will be The Quarter, the fancier room at Zahav. The lower photo shows what appears to be a large wine rack. That's exactly what it will be.

At the bottom, Ofer's son mugs with the makings of a bar. The pile of wood consists of large timbers from an old barn. Each was hauled into the restaurant by a team of very strong guys.