One of the few high points for me of Washington’s grim pandemic lockdown in spring 2020 was a Lunch with the FT I did with José Andrés. Because of the rules, we had to do it on Zoom. But even that had its upside. The Spanish chef, and world-renowned humanitarian, was eating at one of his outlets in Virginia Beach; I was sitting in my home office with Mexican food from one of his “pop-up” restaurants. At the end of our session, I asked what his greeting-and-goodbye rule was during the age of coronavirus. At the time, people were annoyingly clinking elbows, which struck me as precisely the wrong sneeze-ridden part of the body to be using. Andrés stood up, straightened himself, stared into the camera, then pounded his barrel chest, shouting, “I give you my heart! I give you my heart!” From almost anyone else, Andrés theatrical gesture would have come across as contrived. From him, however, it was utterly sincere. Very few people give their hearts to the extent that Andrés does.

I have been thinking a lot about him, as have so many others, after seven of his colleagues — what he calls “angels” — were killed in three Israeli drone strikes earlier this week. Since last October, Andrés’s World Central Kitchen has supplied 43mn meals to Palestinians trapped in that enclave, which is almost 20 meals per person. I don’t have a complete list, but I would not be surprised if this exceeds all other non-governmental organisations combined. Either way it is a safe bet that only UNRWA, boycotted by Israel and now the US, would have supplied more food to the Gaza strip than WCK. It is because of that largesse, and Andrés’s now global reputation, that the world has reacted more emotionally to the death of his colleagues than it has to the roughly 200 aid workers who have died in the Gaza Strip in the past few months. None of them should have died. Each was risking their life to keep the innocent living. The fact that some Hamas fighters are doubtless also being fed is both unavoidable, and also why Israel has been dragging its feet on allowing more aid to go in.

The latest incident has also affected Joe Biden in a way earlier ones did not. Put simply, Andrés is a Washington celebrity. He was one of the pioneers of high-quality restaurants in an early 1990s Washington that had a well-deserved reputation for dowdy food. Andrés’s Jaleo introduced Spanish-style tapas food to America’s capital. In 2016, his restaurant, Minibar, was one of Washington’s first batch to merit a two-star Michelin award. Among others, Nancy Pelosi, the former US Speaker, has nominated him for a Nobel Peace Prize. When I spoke to Andrés during the pandemic, he was keeping dozens of local restaurants alive by ordering food deliveries from them to supply homeless shelters, hospital staff and other essential workers. From the front lines of war-torn Ukraine, to the devastation of natural disasters around the world, Andrés’s WCK has become a global Good Samaritan like no other.

For an insight into Andrés’s philosophy and broken heart, read what he wrote this week in the New York Times:

“I have been a stranger at Seder dinners. I have heard the ancient Passover stories about being a stranger in the land of Egypt, the commandment to remember — with a feast before you — that the children of Israel were once slaves,” he wrote. “It is not a sign of weakness to feed strangers; it is a sign of strength. The people of Israel need to remember, at this darkest hour, what strength truly looks like.”

Will this be enough to prompt Biden to take action against Benjamin Netanyahu’s government? I do not know. Over the past few months, the periodic White House “leaks” about how Biden is getting really frustrated, and his patience is close to snapping, have become almost self-parodying. They remind me of the movie Team America: World Police caricature of the UN weapons inspector, Hans Blix, threatening to write a “strongly-worded letter” unless North Korea gave up its weapons of mass destruction.

At some point, the pressure on Israel and Biden to change the way it is fighting this war has to become decisive. But not yet it seems. For my question this week, I am turned to the renowned Israeli journalist, Noga Tarnopolsky. Noga, you are based in Jerusalem. I know you’ve been holding your breath since October 7 and you are struggling to see a way out of this morass. Could the WCK deaths have some impact on Israeli public opinion?