“The food that has always spoken to me, and the food that I cook today, is simple, bold, ingredients-focused and fresh,” reads the introduction to chef Oded Oren’s debut cookbook, Oren. “It’s the food from my home; the food that I grew up with.” Oded, who hails from Israel’s Mediterranean coast, has spent more than 20 years working in kitchens – but the last few have arguably been the most significant. He opened his namesake restaurant on Shacklewell Lane in Dalston in 2019 and, after just a few months of service, a publisher pitched him an idea for a book. The resulting title, which was released this summer, is a physical embodiment of his neighbourhood joint. Not only does it share a colour scheme and artwork, but it features recipes for its delicious and thoughtful small plates too.

Stone-baked flatbreads served with creamy labneh, spicy chilli harissa and tangy pickled vegetables; seabass crudo with sheep’s yoghurt and tomatoes; and smoked aubergine with shallots and basil are just a handful of the delightful dishes that might feature on the menu at Oren, which changes with the seasons. Although the food is certainly the highlight, the moody and dimly lit interiors, with their brutalist-inspired walls and juxtaposing warm-yellow ceiling – as well as the chilli mezcal margaritas – make an evening here even more enjoyable. When we visit, however, Oded whips up a plate of baked butter beans with barrel-aged feta (which you can find the recipe for below) and sits down to tell us how he brought a taste of Tel Aviv to Dalston – and why the fare of his homeland will always have a special place in his heart.

Oded: “There is a lot of diversity in Tel Aviv. That was very evident in the food I had growing up. I was exposed to many different cuisines – from European to north African – and I fell in love with the different flavours. I wanted to have them all in my life.

“As a kid, I didn’t experience home cooking through my family – my parents were separated and my mum worked very hard, so she wasn’t always home. Instead, I had carers that would cook for me. I remember one Jewish Libyan lady in particular, who would make me a dish called mafrum, which is potatoes stuffed with meat and aubergine, cooked in a tomato sauce. It was usually served with fluffy couscous handmade from flour and semolina. The mixture would get passed through a very fine sieve about five times and then handled and steamed repeatedly. It was lovely.

“My carers would cook a lot of light dishes when I was a kid too, such as smoked aubergine and salads, as well as a lot of traditional Libyan spicy fish, which I loved. But I also ate a lot of things like köftas with rice – food that every kid would like to have when they come from school.

“I used to cook for myself a lot too. I’d make simple stuff, such as schnitzels, which are very popular in Israel. My connection to cooking was very emotional because I didn’t have the same family experience as other kids around me. But I did have very good times with my dad. He used to love taking me to restaurants, so I got to explore a lot of food lot through him as well.

“When I had to think about work, cooking immediately came to mind as a career to pursue. It’s very therapeutic, I always felt good in the kitchen and making something from scratch for other people is something I fell in love with at a young age.

“I started out in a very high-end restaurant in Tel Aviv, which focused on French cooking, and then I went to work in Paris for a year. Coming home, I worked for a chef who made Israeli food, which felt more natural to me. Then I got a job in the kitchen of Turkiz in Tel Aviv, where I stayed for eight years. I started as a line cook and, rather quickly, I became the sous. After 18 months, I was head chef. It’s a prestigious place to work, with access to the best produce, so that was a dream come true.

“In 2011, I moved to London and, following a stint in private cheffing, before running my own pop-ups and a doing residency at Louie Louie in Camberwell. But opening my own restaurant was something I knew wanted to do because I have a lot to say and have good things to bring to the table.

“I live around here so, to me, it only felt natural to open a restaurant in this area. We’ve got a big neighbourhood clientele here, which is really lovely. People that live close by come once every two weeks, for instance. I also think the pandemic has helped us survive and flourish. We decided to do a takeaway menu, featuring really simple and nourishing food. It was home cooking that would travel well in boxes and we served generous portions – and a lot of people who tried the food came back when the restaurant opened again.

“When we first got the space, everything was painted black and it looked a bit like a basement. I stripped it all out myself – except for the floor, which is old terrazzo. I didn’t have an interior designer, but I have a friend who is an artist and he helped me with the colour scheme. We plastered the walls with a concrete-like material and painted the ceiling yellow. The picture on the wall is of a very famous lido in Tel Aviv, which I remember well from when I was a kid. I wanted to have a piece of home here, but I didn’t want to include anything too obvious.

“I was approached by my publisher about writing the book three months after opening. I was spending 15 hours a day in the kitchen, teaching recipes and running the restaurant, so it was quite an intense period. At first, I said no to the project – I didn’t think I was going to have enough time to do it. But then, after a few weeks of thinking about it, I changed my mind. I’ve been working in kitchens for more than 20 years and I thought it would be nice to have a record of my work.

“I’m really proud to have the book on show at the restaurant. It’s very personal: it includes recipes from my childhood, as well as from my journey as a chef. The food I serve here is my interpretation of all the things I was influenced by and exposed to at a young age. Still today, when I go and visit Tel Aviv, I get inspired. I wanted to bring the atmosphere of that city to my book, so we did a photoshoot there to capture the way people eat and socialise around food there. The mentality, culture and weather all make a difference. I visited this autumn and it was 22 degrees at night, with people sitting outside and eating at 10pm. That’s the type of easy-going experience I’ve tried to bring to the book – and the restaurant.”

Oded’s recipe for baked butter beans with barrel-aged feta and slow-roasted tomatoes

“Baking the beans in white wine, garlic and herbs results in rich, tasty juices, while the grilled feta topping adds a tangy, indulgent finish. It’s important to use a generous amount of really good feta here. At the restaurant, we serve it in individual dishes, but you can make it in a big dish and place it in the middle of the table along with some crusty sourdough bread so that everyone can dive in.”

Serves 8 as a starter or side

For the slow-roasted tomatoes
2 large ripe tomatoes
4 sprigs of thyme
2tbsp olive oil

For the baked butter beans
500g dried butter beans, soaked in plenty of water for 24 hours
200ml dry white wine
8 garlic cloves
1tsp sea salt
½tsp freshly ground black pepper
10g thyme sprigs
2 bay leaves
200g barrel-aged feta
25ml olive oil

To make the slow-roast tomatoes, preheat the oven to 160 degrees Celsius. Cut each tomato into six wedges and place in a mixing bowl with the thyme sprigs, a pinch of salt and pepper and olive oil. Toss gently and place on an oven tray lined with baking parchment. Roast in the oven for about 11 hours, or until the tomatoes have shrunken by a third, have a deep red colour and are slightly charred.

When you’re ready to make the butter beans, preheat the oven to 180 degrees Celsius. Drain and rinse the butter beans and place them in a deep roasting tray. Add the rest of the ingredients, except the feta and olive oil, to the tray and mix well with your hands. Add enough water so that the beans are submerged – the water level needs to sit about 2cm above them. Cover the tray with aluminium foil and seal tightly. Bake in the oven for 2-3 hours, until the beans are thoroughly cooked and half the liquid has been absorbed. If a lot of liquid remains, transfer the beans to a saucepan and reduce over a medium heat by half.

Preheat the grill. Sprinkle the tomatoes and crumble the feta over the beans, drizzle with the olive oil and place under the hot grill until the cheese has turned golden. Serve straight from the oven.