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Moment of Truth


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Here's what I used to eat at Café Moment: a melted cheese toast sandwich with fresh basil and roasted red peppers on white focaccia, with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Nearly every Friday, on my day off, I'd crowd into the small cafe at the corner of Aza and Ben-Maimon streets in the upscale Rehavia neighborhood of Jerusalem, say hello to other Israeli reporters -- radio, television, newspaper -- and stand by the bar reading a section of a discarded Yediot magazine, while being bumped and pushed as I waited for a table, preferably for one in the sun.

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