A taste of Ethiopia

Ethiopian dining is a family, communal activity, with a strong emphasis on ceremony and sharing. The coffee ceremony, a long, drawn out affair, may be offered at least twice or more a day, and almost always once, even in the poorest households. The coffee ceremony, incense and all, forms a rich bond between family members and their guests. Dining, similarly, traditionally revolves around the communal table, and is seldom a solitary affair. Central to the dining experience is the messob, a hand-sewn grass basket into which food is placed on top of a sheet of bread. The food is eaten with the fingers, as no cutlery is provided, instilling a sense of camaraderie between participants. If you enter an Ethiopian restaurant with a complete stranger, chances are that you’ll emerge somewhat more familiar, and possibly even quite friendly by the end of dinner. As far as building mutual trust is concerned, few forms of dining could be more effective.

Food usually arrives on top of a sheet of fragrant and spongy bread, known as injera. This is a kind of sourdough, made from teff, an indigenous Ethiopian grain that possesses a higher gluten content than most Western flours. Rather than being baked in an oven, this flat bread is made from a simple batter that is allowed to rest for a while to gather native yeasts, then is cooked on a hot, flat surface, rather like a pancake. The result is a large, thin disc about 20 inches across, smooth on one side and cratered with air bubbles on top. Because of the high gluten content of teff, this bread is very stretchy, allowing small pieces to be torn off and wrapped around morsels of food.

To emphasize the intimate and sometimes erotic nature of such close-quarters dining, there exists a little practice of feeding your partner, known as gursha. Consisting of popping a small morsel into the mouth of your significant other or beloved family member, this is something that I don’t think will catch on too quickly in our germ-obsessed culture, but don’t be afraid to try it should the mood grab you. Or, you can be like a certain unnamed wine business colleague of mine who once insisted on silverware because he “didn’t know where I’d been.” This is always a good way to find out who your true friends are.

As you’ve probably gathered by now, the secret to enjoying the experience of Ethiopian dining is to go with at least one close acquaintance, and preferably several. It doesn’t do to rush too much, either. Although you can get in and out of an Ethiopian restaurant in under an hour, it’s not a bad idea to give yourself some time to relax, spread out and enjoy the whole thing as it’s supposed to be enjoyed.

Although Ethiopia has a significant Christian population, it is the Muslim influence that dominates the cuisine. For this reason there is a strong emphasis on vegetarian dishes, in particular non-perishable items like lentils and split peas. Because there are numerous non-Muslims, however, there are also plenty of dishes available made from beef, lamb and chicken. Many of the dishes tend to be spicy (a way of disguising and preserving questionable meat in hot climates) and include generous quantities of a garam masala kind of concoction known as wet (or, in some cases, watt). This can be prepared either hot or mild.

Something else you’ll find a lot of in a traditional Ethiopian restaurant is berbere. This is a deep, rich red sauce, which wouldn’t be out of place in you local Tex-Mex joint. Although recipes for it vary, hot chili peppers and cardamom are pretty well universal ingredients. At Addis, the latest addition to Indy’s Ethiopian dining scene, this is put to good use in an excellent dish known as doro watt. Essentially, this is a flesh-falling-off-the-bone chicken leg and a hard boiled egg floating in a bowl of deepest crimson liquid. On the moderately hot side, this is almost a meal in itself for $7.99.

Other fine dishes here include spicy preparations of beef, lamb and minced beef, all hovering in the $7 to $10 range. Although simple, the food at Addis Ababa is rich and decidedly more-ish. It’s hard to stop your fingers from tearing off just one more piece of injera and dipping it into one fragrant sauce or another, even if it feels as if your belt is about to burst from its moorings.

Tucked away around the corner at the west end of a nondescript-looking strip mall, Addis Ababa is unassuming both inside and out. Still in its infancy, there are no wicker baskets or elaborate coffee ceremonies, and seating is catch-as-catch-can. The food, however, seems to be off to a very sound start, with 10 or so meat dishes, half a dozen vegetarian dishes and a breakfast menu. At present, the menu is written entirely in another language (I would say Ethiopian, but am not sure if that’s strictly correct), but on a recent visit I was assured that translations would be available on its next incarnation. If, like me, you find yourself utterly clueless as to what the various descriptions mean, the staff is more than happy to translate for you.

A good way to approach a menu like this is to try a couple of sampler dishes, such as the Addis Special ($9.99), which includes a healthy portion each of watt, tibes and kifto (two kinds of minced beef plus lamb and, correct me if I’m mistaken, chicken). With extra bread on the side and a generous handful of salad greens, this approach to eating covers most of the major food groups.

Although simple bordering on the Spartan, Addis Ababa offers solid, filling and nutritious meals at reasonable prices. For a somewhat more elaborate experience (wicker baskets, coffee ceremony and all) I would have to recommend the Queen of Sheba on Indiana Avenue, where the menu is also broader and the preparations slightly more varied. It also serves alcohol, something that, right now at least, isn’t available at Addis Ababa. For the time being you’ll need to make do with a short selection of teas, coffees and soft drinks. Oh yes, and bring your own atmosphere.

Hear Neil Charles each Friday morning on WXNT-AM, 1430.