The new year dashed into Tel Aviv. Rain finally came too, bringing much relief to this old, dried out desert.

In Tel Aviv, the seasons blurred into a haze, adopting the undeterred character of its surroundings. Throughout December, you wouldn’t have guessed it was winter. No signs of Christmas, 80 degrees and a blazing sun for the entire stretch of day light. For 11 months of the year, it could be any season at all in the sin city, as it is known to the world. Cafes are filled with all its regulars, cool cats sat for long stretches of the day, smoking on cigarettes, sipping on cappuccinos, sitting back with a sense of ease in the warm breeze and exchanging kisses in the air. Business as usual.

In the city that strives to turn a blind eye to their place on the world map, it is the weather that reminds you that is indeed Arabia, not Europa.

A few weeks ago, I happily took a stroll to the city’s northern port, to enjoy the European swagger in the city’s food establishments. I headed for Tel Aviv’s latest offering, its take on Barcelona’s La Boqueria, as founded in the “Shuk Ha’Namal”, the newly erected indoor food market.

I visited La Boqueria several years ago, and although much of my loyalties do lie with London’s Borough Market, for me, La Boqueria, is food market heaven on earth. My eyes were transfixed by every tapas bar I passed, each serving their specialities on little clay bowls. The most delightful stand was the fish bar, an elegant small fish joint, situated in the heart of the city’s food market. Buttoned up cooks in white overalls served the catch of the day on white places, dressed with a drizzle of olive oil, crushed garlic and, of course, a side glass of Cava.

As I strolled up to Tel Aviv’s food market during this warm winter day, my expectations had already been set quite high. The trickle of the blue sea in my periphery was of course endearing, but I wasn’t going to be forgiving. If Tel Aviv wanted to be all European, then it had a lot to live up to.

Tel Aviv’s food market from the outside seemed promising, but on entry the hope for an all-emcompassing, imposing food market was replaced by the reality of a small gathering within a mediocre space. Booths sell imported gourmet delicatessens at extortionate prices; others sold multi-coloured carrots, amongst an array of organic local vegetables, olives, spices, flowers and bread.

There were also food bars, much like those found in La Boqueria, but here, there was an international offering of American-style meat sandwiches and Italian-style freshly-made pasta, dolloped with a variety of sauces. I scoured the place and finally took a seat in the buzzing tapas bar, situated in the corner of the market and squeezed next to the window, as to catch every glare of sunlight.

And this is where the comparisons began. Was this going to be anything like La Boqueria’s freshly caught fish on a plate? I decided to go simple and ordered patatas fritas, scrumptious fried cubes of potatoes drowning in aioli and tomato sauce; seared sirloin with a tangy salsa verde; and grilled sardines.

The latter dish was the day’s special. I hoped it would carry the salty flavours of the Mediterranean and the smokiness of a charcoal singe. Since the bar was attempting to reinvent Barcelona’s trend of tapas, surely the essence of the food would be in its freshness and locality? No? Unfortunately the sardines lacked flavour, the poor little mights weren’t that fresh and were slightly over cooked. And worse of all, the plates, along with two glasses of wine, came with a heavy price tag of around $50. Unfortunately, Tel Aviv was just trying a tad too hard to be European, and somewhere down the line, they lost the point. If sardines weren’t there thing, they shouldn’t do it.

Anyways, the bubbles of the cava and the heat of the sun calmed by overly critical British cognition, and I melted in the moment of the cool vibe of Tel Aviv. After all, it was mid-December, so I couldn’t complain too much.

Every pocket of the city stays the same throughout the year, except January. January has arrived and Tel Aviv enters indoors. Cafes wind down and food turns to a short-term binge of soup and stew. It won’t last long and the city will be back to its usual swing.