By Jen Karetnick

“You must be so excited to see your birthright!” my sister-in-law exclaimed, when she heard I was heading to Jerusalem for the first time.

“Actually, I’m just going for the food,” I replied.

I was only half-joking. Israeli cuisine ranges from traditional holiday dishes to indigenous Middle Eastern salads to impeccably fresh fish creations, and even the most staid-looking, kosher restaurants provide groundbreaking fare paired with superb wines. I’d heard tales of fragrant markets and read stories of sumptuous street food for as long as I can remember. As a food-and-wine writer by trade, I couldn’t wait to sample as much of it as possible.

Still, I’ve come to realize that there is no such thing, at least for me, as “birthright.” For one thing, I’m in my 40s—that is, too old—so I don’t really qualify. I love the idea of it: Put forth by the Zionists, birthright proposes that the world Jewish community identity is strengthened through individual relationships to Israel. To that end, since 2000, the Taglit-Birthright Israel organization has sponsored more than 200,000 Jewish people between the ages of 18 and 26, from more than 50 countries, on ten-day trips to Israel.

But while, like many American Jews of my generation, I was raised to believe that I would visit Israel someday—when there were no more wars, or bombs on buses, or declarations that Israel must cease to exist at all costs—I’ve since become aware that someday might never come. Journeying to Israel, like travel to any other country, is more of a privilege than a right.

At the same time, despite common belief and a lot of propaganda put forth by world media, Israel is eminently safer than many other countries. As the statistics offered by the Israel Ministry of Tourism offer, some three million U.S. citizens visited Israel in 2008 and again in 2009. All of them returned home, perfectly healthy. By 2012, Shaul Tzemach, Director-General of Israel’s Ministry of Tourism, expects to be hosting five million.

Of course, you realize that safety is paramount very quickly once you run the gamut of security personnel at the airport. The best way to get through without fuss is to answer questions calmly and without too much hesitation. And while you might fancy the idea of traveling to the mother country for the High Holidays or Passover, be warned that many native Israelis are making their way home at such times, and the flights are crowded (especially El-Al).

October and November, after Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and before Thanksgiving, delivers some of the most beautiful weather in Jerusalem. That’s when the Middle Eastern sun slants a little less harshly, turning the natural sand and camel colors of this 5,000-year-old city into the purest of platinum and gold. The precious metallic hues make walking the paths of the many venerated religious sites, shaded by cypress and dotted with gnarled olive trees, seem that much more spiritual.

Indeed, Jerusalem holds many attractions for the devout of any of the three major religions that were founded here: Judaism, Christianity and Islam, in that order. Frankly, though, it’s almost impossible to check in at every shrine, museum and excavation without staying in the city for months.

Not that you have to be a pious member of any particular faith to visit the Western Wall (or Kotel, the remains of the wall surrounding the Jewish Second Temple); Mount of Olives (the Christian church sites where Jesus was arrested and suffered some of his doubts, or “agonies”); or the Dome of the Rock & Temple Mount (the foremost Muslim shrine, said to be built using the rock upon which Abraham nearly sacrificed Isaac). However, you should observe certain customs—for instance, keeping to covered heads and gender segregation at the Wall, as in an Orthodox synagogue, and a respectful tone of voice and your distance from the famed olive trees, twisted like the most calcium-deficient of spinal columns, in the Garden of Gethsemane. Furthermore, while you may tour the plaza at the Temple Mount, only Muslims are allowed inside the shrine itself.

I have to admit, while I fully expected to value my experience at the Wall, I didn’t anticipate getting a little teary eyed. But the truth wins out—just being able to touch this holiest of Biblical remnants, one so vital for my own particular faith, made me shiver. I hadn’t prepared a note to slip into its cracks, yet many American Jews come ready with missives from friends and relatives to leave with the auspices of the blocks. In retrospect, I wish I had.

It’s a good idea to start a day, after an Israeli breakfast of salty feta cheese, juicy tomatoes, gorgeously ripe melon and olives, with the aptly appellated Mount of Olives, from which you can view the Dome of the Rock, and then head to the Wall, which frames part of the Old City. It’s also not a bad idea, if you lack knowledge of either Middle Eastern or religious history, to hire a guide, or at least scour a good guidebook—the intersection of the sects, let alone the sites, can confuse even the most liturgical.

If you feel okay on your own, those looking for cultural as well as religious value can find it in the Old City, the heart of Jerusalem, which is essentially divided into four: Armenian, Christian, Jewish and Muslim quarters. Each reveals, through architecture, art and the business of being alive, the ethnic tales that are knit into the whole of this unique and sometimes challenging tapestry.

Just inside one of the most beautiful entrances to the Old City, the magnificent Jaffa Gate (the unfortunate master builders are said to buried beneath, so they couldn’t create anything to rival it afterward), the Room of the Last Supper and Tomb of David display the structural designs that stylized the three similarly based yet very separate religions. Outside, halwah sellers hawk all sorts of candied seeds and nuts, including sesame, pistachio and peanut; just ask for the amount you want and they’ll slice it, like fudge, from long, flat blocks. Munch while you walk directly ahead into the Muslim quarter and the souk (Arab bazaar), where the narrow, bustling streets lined with stalls sell everything from squeezed-on-the-spot pomegranate juice to colorful, spangled scarves.

It’s hard not to get hungry in the souk—so many tables are laden with bowls of briny cucumber pickles, spicy peppers, smoky roasted eggplant salads, trays of freshly baked ka’ak (sesame-coated bread rings) and piles of honeyed, nutty sweets like baklava—but don’t buy too much, unless you’re planning a Dead Sea-side picnic, that is. Instead, search out AbuShukri, one of the most renowned hummus eateries in the area. Here you can order platters of the pureed chick peas topped with olive oil and pine nuts sprinkled with za’atar (an herb related to oregano, sometimes mixed with sesame seeds and salt) or ful medames (partially mashed, marinated fava beans) as well as falafel. Scoop the dip up or sandwich the fried chick peas with rounds of pita bread and top them with salads comprising onions, cucumbers, tomatoes and cabbage pickled with lemon juice or salt-cured pickles and olives. You’ll rarely feel so satisfied, so simply.

Just steps away from AbuShukri, the Via Doloroso, or Way of the Cross, winds through the Muslim into the Christian Quarter and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where Jesus was buried and resurrected. If you choose to go in another direction, you can enter the Jewish Quarter and find one of the most historical roads, the Cardo, built by the Romans in 135 AD to the width of 73 feet—what today would be considered an 8-lane highway, although only about half remains. Nearby, you’ll also find dozens of high-end jewelry and Judaica stores that offer some of the most notable souvenirs you’ll find in the city. A tour though the vivid Machaneh Yehuda produce market is also a necessity, especially if you want to load up on fresh citrus and stone fruits in your hotel room or spice mixtures, dried beans and pine nuts for light suitcase imports. (Just don’t head there pre-Sabbath if you want to avoid bruises in the shape of pointed elbows.)

It’s almost shocking to go from quarter to quarter, as the sections are very insular, and populations quickly give way from fully robed women haggling over headdresses to young Hasidic schoolchildren hurrying home in clutches. Almost everywhere, machine gun-bearing soldiers, whether in training or in earnest, are afoot. Try not to be intimidated but curious instead, and park yourself at an outdoor café in any of the districts for a late afternoon snack so you can gawk without shame as the various factions head to prayer. People-watching is primo in Jerusalem, whether you are under signs saying “Fayez Factory and Boxes” or “Hairdresser—Specialist in Wigs.”

Day tours of Jerusalem can be exhausting, even in the fall when the weather is cooperative, leaving you less in the mood for nightlife. Then again, while Jerusalem does have its music clubs and dance scenes, as well as art galleries and literary life, it leads a more sedate existence than Tel Aviv, its more secular sister city to the south. So you might be inclined here to simply dine well and retire to your well-appointed digs in anticipation of the next day’s viewing of the Dead Sea Scrolls at the Israel Museum or the very intensive and emotional experience that is the Yad Vashem (the Holocaust Museum and Memorial).

Fortunately, these aims—of renewing mind, body and soul after testing them in various ways—are easily accomplished in Jerusalem. Hotels like the celebrated King David, which has housed everyone from heads of state to people like, well, me, is an oasis, quite literally. Palm trees surround the pool; the view of the Western Wall is excruciatingly beautiful; and the staff is mannered to the point of servitude—I came down with a 24-hour flu on a recent visit, and the general manager himself went out to get me medication.

Along with the King David, the American Colony is a lovely and historic place to stay in the city. But if you’re looking for something new, or at least a remake, then know that Jerusalem’s wonderful old Palace Hotel is set to launch in 2010. Now a member of the Waldorf–Astoria Collection, the hotel has an Oriental charm, thanks to its original design by a Turkish architect in 1929, that is being maintained.

Restaurants are equally as varied and sophisticated, ranging from the cosmopolitan Cavalier (from crème brûlée of goose liver, truffle and apples in caramel to lamb sirloin steak on a bed of couscous with pine nuts) to the all-fish Dagim Bachatzer (choose your species and its preparation) to the revolutionary Eucalyptus (its ever-changing, seasonal menu includes items such as chicken-stuffed figs in tamarind sauce and chef Moshe Basson mother’s Jewish Iraqi-derived dishes).

Many fine-dining as well as casual establishments, of course, are kosher, or at least keep to the strictures of one monotheistic religion or another (do not eat in the Muslin quarter during sunlight hours when it’s Ramadan!). But while you may not operate this way either by heritage or nature at home, rest assured that generations of restaurateurs and chefs here have done so. The result is that no one sees religious dietary restrictions as a challenge, but as a way of life. Plus, the natural bounty is enormous, provided by the Mediterranean Sea, the Sea of Galilee, the banks of the Red Sea, the artisans of the kibbutzes in Galilee, and the wine and olive oil routes in the Golan Heights.

Wash it all down with some Yarden Odem Organic 2006 or a Jonathan Tishbi Special Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 2007. Kosher wines, by no means any less well-crafted than their non-kosher brethren, are coming into their own. Forget Manischewitz comparisons and start thinking Napa Valley (but better value). In fact, the up-and-coming wine region is an ideal day trip from Jerusalem; after all, the whole of Israel can be covered top to bottom in five hours by car—and at Tishbi Family of Vineyards & Wine, which has a garden patio restaurant in addition to a gift shop, you can even stop and have homemade bread spread with Oshra Tishbi’s own Chardonnay wine jelly—or a goat cheese pizza—along with your tasting.

Remember, Israel is the original bread basket of the world. Dine here just one day and it’ll be easier to recall. The additional good news for Jews, especially those of us—like myself—who suffer from lactose- or gluten-intolerance, is that operating by kosher bylaws makes it very easy to identify allergy-friendly restaurants. So maybe Israel isn’t my “birthright” per se. But I, for one, was at least born to eat, and eat well, in this earliest of multicultural towns.