The Ethiopian way of preparing coffee is spectacular. The roasting beans are brought to the table sizzling as they lay on a colourful, clay plate for dinners to imbibe their intoxicating aroma. They are then taken away, ground and mixed with a subtle blend of cardamom, cinnamon and nutmeg. Boiling water is added and the coffee returns to the table, served from a shapely, traditional pot called a jebena and dispensed into tiny bowls. Burning incense accompanies the coffee to complete the exotic scene. The combination of coffee with cardamom is sublime and a few grains of sugar heighten the flavour.
Witnessing this spectacle I am reminded of why Ethiopians make so much of coffee. Ethiopia is credited with being the first country in the world to roast and grind coffee and to prepare it as a beverage. Serving coffee has become ritualised as a glorious finale to an Ethiopian meal.
But what happens at the beginning of the meal? We choose a dish called kategna. Small squares of injera quickly fried in butter and doused in herbs and spices. We are hungry and the katenga is delicious. Some pieces are crisp other retain the aerated, sponge like texture of injera. Both absorb the tasty coating of spices.
But what is injera? Injera is a gigantic pancake, about 30cm across, and made from flour ground from tiny grass seeds called teff. The teff is mixed with water and left to ferment for between two and three days. During this time it picks up natural yeasts from the air and starts to ferment. When ready it is placed on a large clay plate and cooked over steam. The fermented batter generates bubbles of carbon dioxide which expand and produce the distinctive honey comb texture of the injera. Like enormous, lacy drop scones or if you know them - Derbyshire pancakes. A little piece is torn from the injera and used to scoop w’et. W’et is a type of stew made from vegetables, pulses or meat.
The vegetarian selection we choose was a marvel. Permutations of pulses, vegetables and spices - Kik alich’a was a combination of split peas, tumeric, ginger and green chilli. Gomen - spinach sautéed with onion, garlic, ginger and jalapeno chilli. Atkelt w’et- fresh cabbage sautéed with potato and carrot. Misir w’et - roasted chick peas ground and made into make a loose sauce with green peepers, onions and olive oil. Misir Alich w’et - spicy red lentils simmered in a sauce.
This meal was served under a mesob - a conical lid made from bright, colourful woven rushes and large enough to enclose the injera. Several spoonfuls of w’et had been placed in neat puddles on the w’et making it reminiscent of an artist’s palette.
What fascinated me about this meal was its structure, the emphasis on Ethiopian ceremony, the colourful mesob, the shapely jebena, the distinctiveness of each w’et. We selected six vegetarian dishes but no matter they were all different colours, flavours and textures. This tasty, bright, nourishing and companionable food was served by a family of charming almond eyed, wild haired young Ethiopian women.
I looked around the room and saw happy content people; couples in love, friends, families comprising several generations all enjoying the experience of Ethiopian hospitality in this small North London enclave.
This is a cosy intimate restaurant. Dark and exotic. As numbers swelled, the atmosphere becomes more intensive and you may have to wait longer for your meal. But it is worth the wait and in the meantime you can enjoy this unique cultural experience. Prices are modest too.
A relaxing, interesting and delicious meal and I can’t wait for a return visit.