A state of being that is all gentle bubbling and buzz

In the absence of real travel abroad, the Tel Avivian yearning for a bit of Europe becomes almost obsessive. You look at the winter forecast and imagine elegant streets, long thick coats, heart- and stomach-warming stalls, and an entire city wrapped in a scarf, continuing to function. You know the chances are slim and past experience suggests otherwise, but winter still does something to you.

In reality, apart from these two weeks that are just ending now, winter isn't really winter; the streets are far from elegant and close to collapsing, the coats are neither thick nor long, and the stalls mainly chill. The city, scarf or no scarf, is far from functioning.

In this meeting between fantasy and reality, between Europe and the White City, only the plane tickets (and ticket sellers) win. Until that happens, there's at least Backstage.

The slightly hidden Tel Aviv hotel (behind Dizengoff Square, in the maze of streets offering maximum confusion and minimum parking) from the Atlas chain chose from the outset to offer the ultimate switch – one moment you are outside, grey and creaky, and with a swing of a heavy wooden door you are inside, relaxed and smiling. This transition happens here and there in other places in the city, but here it is immediate, dramatic, and so very necessary.

The building, which once housed the city's Ohel Theater, was revived with determined yet gentle hands and renovated so that respect speaks from the ceiling to the floor, through the walls and the floors. A preserved building, yes, but how many preserved buildings haven't been maintained over the years, and how easy it is to dilute instead of execute.

Here, if things aren't clear enough, the execution is exemplary. Abroad, yes, but also Israel. How complicated to implement, how enjoyable when it finally happens.

Thus, a year after the brunch opened here, and weeks after the dreadful hiatus forced on us all (and still not entirely over), the business is back – for hotel guests but also for the general public, on Fridays and Saturdays, and even on weekdays. These small letters are important. A hotel brunch open to all is a somewhat rare sight, though it exists. A hotel brunch open to everyone throughout the week is already a story to mark, remember, and cherish.

The deal is logistically and operationally complex but flows well and quickly leads you to relax, lean back, and stop nitpicking. NIS 145 (NIS 100 for children up to 12 years old) will bring to the center of the table appetizers, one main course of choice, unlimited hot drinks, and the rest is completed by the nearby buffet. At this price, I'll get to the final conclusion and bottom line right now: it’s an excellent deal.

Let’s start at the beginning, of course, which is a three-tiered tray that arrives shortly after you settle in, with many small dishes – smoked salmon and matjes, cream cheese, tomato salad with small mozzarella chunks, fresh lettuce leaves seasoned with a sweet vinaigrette at their base, bulgur salad with a labneh ball and roasted cauliflower, finely chopped vegetable salad, a bit of hard cheese with punch, wonderful potato salad, and fruits.

These small dishes start their journey with a slightly aristocratic feel, are tasted and returned to their place on the silver tray. Very quickly, of course, they find themselves on the table, in a fun spread of indulgence that is that Israeli breakfast we no longer get to have too often. The selection is good, the look colorful, the forks know how to connect flavors, and the variety does not impose too low a common denominator. On the contrary. Oh, and I forgot the most beautiful word in the renewed Hebrew brunch lexicon. Refill. All these are refilled. And coffee too. How nice not to keep count. How much nicer when no one counts against you.

Seven main courses await your order to join all these plates. There is a classic option of eggs of your choice (with mushrooms, onions, gouda, tomatoes, and herbs, and also a vegan omelet option), zucchini-cauliflower-broccoli pancakes with tahini and tomato salsa, bread pudding with egg salad, arugula and parmesan (which was less bread pudding and more quiche), and also a well-made scrambled egg that comes with a thick slice of challah underneath and a thin layer of parmesan on top.

Apart from these, there is also a buttery and excellent croissant sandwich with a "perfect egg," smoked salmon, and hollandaise sauce, savory French toast with a sunny side-up egg, gouda, a bit of asparagus, and the same thick hollandaise sauce, and also pancakes with caramelized bananas, meringue shards and Bresilienne nuts, whipped cream, and some more thick and deep caramel sauce on top.

The buffet complements this celebration in a focused, efficient, and non-pretentious way. It’s not the loading monster of hotels, and not even the slightly more civilized buffets of similar brunches in Tel Aviv, those that somehow try to have their cake and eat it too. Or vice versa.

No, here there is a long and handsome counter that knows what you received at the table and knows what you will want, and need, beside it, before it, within it, and after it. Bread, first of all, obviously, fresh and warm, that almost slices itself into excessively thick slices, your fault of course. Next to it, bowls of homemade pesto and bitter and tangy skordalia, bright pepper dip, and correctly textured butter, waiting for a good spread.

Next, patiently waiting are small morning pastries, personal muffins, and yeast cakes with a knife that slightly cruelly tests your self-discipline. There are also small glasses of mille-feuille dessert and similar glasses of chia pudding, a self-assembly station of granola-yogurt-fruits, successful jams, and excellent fresh juices, based on apples, oranges, and even beets.

The buffet's game-changer – and I would even exaggerate to call it the game-changer of the brunch in general – comes inside a chilled ice-filled champagne bucket, containing bottles of sparkling wine.

The vast majority of places, in brunches and in general, will use alcohol and morning cocktails as a trampoline for inflating final bills. Here, in a move that is pennies operationally – in cost and in use, because for some reason many of the tables and diners preferred to skip – you get both generosity and a very mild, very necessary, very enjoyable buzz.

"Mimosa," proclaims the small sign next to it, encouraging you to mix. "As is," you read the same sign exactly on your third refill.

The Backstage brunch set out last year with a show and stage design envelope, another homage to what once was here, in the theater. Thus, items were chosen that winked at the world of glamor – from stylish salt shakers, through Shakespeare books mischievously hiding the cutlery, to trays resembling dressing room lights and makeup corners – and the rest were done by heavy curtains and guided imagination.

But the issue is not the salt shakers, not the lamps, and not even Shakespeare. The issue is the place, and the way it makes you drift with the welcome disconnection. The food helps, of course, and also the cava, but food and cava combinations are dozens in the closest radius to the hotel. Here there is style, and if this Israeli winter is still happening and knocking on the glass ceiling above, there is also Europe.

Brunch, Backstage Café, Backstage Hotel, 6 Bilinson St., Tel Aviv, Sunday-Thursday 7:00-13:45, Friday-Saturday 7:00-14:15