Ethiopia Experience
Fast-forward a year, or so, later, and Jason and I find ourselves, driving to Berkley to conquer our trepidations on consuming Ethiopian food with our hands and in public! After I posted my initial post, we debated if we could think of something else. "Sleep on it," Jason said. We did, and the next day we both looked at one another and said, "Let's do it!" It was a cloudy day in the Bay Area and we hoped that it was not a foreshadow about what was to come. We decided to have lunch versus dinner in order to miss the afternoon traffic. Jason recalled that Amy had mentioned that the Ethiopian restaurants were on Telegraph road in Berkley, California. Berkley is a very eclectic and bohemian town. It is the home of the renowned University of California: Berkley. The area is full of diversity and embraces multi-culturalism. When we arrived in Berkley, we saw multiple Ethiopian restaurants, one after another. I called out to Jason as we passed, "How about that one?" and "Oh, look at that one." Jason replied, "You just need to pick one." Then, all of a sudden, I shouted, "That one!"
I chose Ethiopia Restaurant because the name was clear and the building was a bright terracotta color with a touch of yellow. I love yellow and I felt that this restaurant spoke to me with the exiting esthetics of the frontal decor. Jason found a perfect parking spot-- parking can be a nightmare-- but we chose a perfect time of day. As we walked closer to Ethiopia Restaurant, the pungent smell of exotic spices filled the street! It smelled delicious. We love spicy food so we were excited by the tantalizing and mysterious smells of the spices. The smells put a smile on my face and I looked at Jason and said, "Yumm.. I think this is going to be good!" We took the time to capture a selfie, but I wish you could smell the deliciousness in the air. We entered the restaurant with confidence that quickly faded away. We found ourselves standing face-to-face with a stood face to face with a huge Purell stand that was labeled, "HEALTHY HANDS START HERE." The Purell station quickly put our circumstance back into perspective. However, we bravely pressed forward and cleansed our hands as a beautiful Ethiopian woman, Rigby, greeted us at the door. She had a very heavy English accent, but she had a warm and inviting smile. She took us to our table and began to explain the menu to us. She stated, "I recommend to you, the big plate that you can share- Ethiopian style." I inquired about the mouth-watering spices that filled the air and she explained to me that I smelled the mixture of chili peppers, cloves, cardaomom seeds, and salt called "berbere." The pronunciation sounded like a mixture of French and Spanish. The "r" was rolled like in Spanish, but the in between was as choppy as French. It sounded as good as I imagined it was going to taste. She explained to us that Ethiopians eat strictly with their right hand and they serve the food on a big platter. The "wat" (thick stew with meat) is served on top of a large sourdough flatbread that covers the entire plate. On the side, they serve pieces of "injera" which is meant to break into pieces and pick up your bite size individual helping with. She finished with a smile and said, "But utensils are optional." At this point, Jason and I were feeling good about using our hands.
We wanted the full experience and we trusted Rigby! We passed on the offer of utensils. After we placed our order, I walked around the restaurant and enjoyed the Ethiopian artwork. I particularly enjoyed the frames that had pictures of Ethiopian men lined on the brick wall. I inquired about the men and Rigby told me that they were Ethiopian warriors. What struck me was that there is a piece of wood, a single piece, sticking out from the men's hair. I was so curious about that, so I asked Rigby and she told us that the wood identified the men as Ethiopians. She went on to explain how, in Africa, tribes take pride in their hair, and they used hair specific hair ornaments to identify each tribe. The Ethiopian tribe that the men belonged to chose to have that single piece of wood to represent their tribe's identity. It was not long after Rigby's fantastic education that the restaurant exploded with delicious scents of food.
It was impossible to mistake the big platter Rigby carried around the corner was for us because we were the only ones in the restaurant. Being the only ones in the restaurant was a win-win situation for us. Rigby was able to spend one-to-one time with us and we were able to experience eating with our hands without being under surveillance by other patrons. Perfect! WOW! The food looked amazing. I could not help but notice the bold colors of the meat dishes. The red and orange colors looked exactly like I thought they would based on the overdose of smells I experienced thus far. Rigby explained the meat dishes as she poured them over the flatbread. We had beef wat, goat wat and "niter kibbeh" chicken. Niter Kibbeh chicken is infused with spices, ginger, garlic and served in mitmita sauce. We mistakenly thought the food was going to taste similar to curry dishes in the Indian cuisine, but we were incorrect!
After Rigby finished preparing us for our first time experience with Ethiopian food, Jason and I sat there for a moment to enjoy the presentation and build the courage to dig in utensil-less. We each took a piece of the rolled injera and picked up our first bite with, yes, our bare-naked hands. I recall the first sense that I felt was the warmness on my fingertips. As I continued to use my fingers to scoop the food, I could help but think about Halloween. Halloween, you may ask. Yes, when you dig into your pumpkin and scoop out the seeds with your bare hands, but the warm sensation was more pleasant! I placed a scoop of the beef wat into my mouth and apparently, I my scoop was a too large as if I were a child scooping into a candy dish and grabbing more than my mouth can consume. The red sauce ran down my chin. I immediately tried to clear the sauce with my fingertips forgetting that I had just dug into the food with them. I actually wiped more sauce on my chin, making more of a mess! Jason and I burst into laughter! He followed suite with a more manageable handful. I must admit that eating with my hands took some getting used to. I constantly tried to wipe my fingers off because the feeling of food on them, between them and running down them felt unusual and strange. I went through so many napkins because I could not bring myself to sucking my fingers one by one to achieve cleanliness. I must admit that Jason fared better than I did with his hands. It was a neat experience.
The food was delicious and I enjoyed the Ethiopian spices busting with joyous flavor in my mouth. The garlic was superb and the heat of the chilis was to perfection. The food was not overly hot that it burned the mouth; however, the food briefly flamed the tongue and left no after-trail of a lingering hot spice. The goat was a little too "gamy" for my liking, but I fell in love with the chicken. Jason, on the hand, enjoyed the goat and beef the best. The flatbread was very bland and tasteless when we ate it by itself, but when it was partnered with the meat wat, it tasted good. We enjoyed every bite. At the end of our meal, we had to go to the bathroom and wash our hands. We were so slow that we decided to skip desert. I am not one for sweets. Moreover, I enjoy the flavors of my food in my mouth after I eat.
We thanked Rigby for a great Ethiopian experience and she invited us back again. When we went to pay the bill, I was able to look into the kitchen. There were big pots and pans boiling with the red brown sauce and lots of clove bundles on the kitchen's island. As I was peeking through the window, a little Ethiopian woman stepped out from behind the pans. She had the warmest wrinkly eyes and her long grey hair pulled back into a bun. She looked up, our eyes connected, and she smiled at me. I knew she was the chef and I could see how much love she was putting into her cooking. I asked Rigby if she was the chef and she said, "Yes! She is my mother and she loves to cook." I immediately said, "Complements to the chef!" This was a perfect way to end our authentic Ethiopian experience. I recommend everyone to try Ethiopian cuisine and eating in a true authentic way: your hands!
Jason and I give our experience two thumbs up. Perhaps the next time we eat Ethiopian food, eating with our hands will not be so uncomfortable or unusual.
The End!
This page has paths:
- Tim Neville's "The Great Pleasure Project" Gary Walker-Roberts
