Browsing Tag

Food

The #1 reason to visit Ethiopia

March 1, 2011

Juice. And lots of it.

It is, by far, my favorite thing about this country. For around $1-2, you can get a vitamin-packed glass of freshly squeezed and blended juice.

I particularly enjoyed this lime-mint drink, which would totally beat lemonade in a cage match.

Ethiopia is also famous for these layered fruit juices. Here I’m having a superhero combination of mango, strawberry, papaya and avocado.

Sounds weird, but the combo is fantastic, especially on a hot afternoon in the brutal Ethiopian sun.

 

Say wot?

February 22, 2011

Whenever I tell people back home that my favorite cuisine is Ethiopian, I’m met with laughter and jeers.

“What do they serve at Ethiopian restaurants? One grain of rice?”

Har har.

But now I’m getting the last laugh, eating my way around Ethiopia and indulging in this country’s incredibly lush, layered cuisine.

For the uninitiated, here’s what Ethiopian food is all about.

Most dishes revolve around sauces served on injera.

Injera is a bread made from teff flour, not wheat, so it’s naturally gluten-free and doesn’t rest heavy on the stomach. The dough is fermented, giving it a tangy taste and spongy texture similar to sourdough. It looks like a limp pancake.

The best thing about Ethiopian food is that you eat with your hands, tearing pieces of injera and using them to sop up the juicy sauces. Since you’re experiencing the food without utensils, the meals engage every sense — right down to the steamy sauna of sauce on your fingertips.

The most common sauce, called wot, is like a thick, yummy stew made with either meat or beans. It is seasoned with berbere, a potent blend of chili pepper, black pepper, ginger, garlic and other spices. (Supposedly the way to an Ethiopian man’s heart is through spice — it is said that the woman with the best berbere nabs the best husband!)

A less zesty version of wot is called alecha. It contains no berbere, but it is equally delicious.

During Lent and on fasting days — that is, every Wednesday and Friday — orthodox Ethiopians eschew animal products, which means vegans rule, baby! That’s when I happily order my favorite meal, beyanetu, a hearty sampler of wot, alecha, salads and more.

Many dishes are served on a shared plate, using a piece of injera that is approximately the size of a bistro tablecloth.

If you’re dining with loved ones, you might also experience gursha, a beautiful act of friendship. That’s when your buddy tears a strip of injera, sponges up some sauce, then places the bundle of food into your mouth. The larger the roll of injera, the stronger your friendship.

Altogether, Ethiopian cuisine is unbearably beautiful in its richness of flavor, the eye-popping spice, and even the act of nourishing one another. I feel like I’m getting to know this country one bite of injera at a time.

It’s a far cry from one grain of rice, huh?

Of course, the food varies by region, based on tradition, season and availability. While I was visiting a tribe near Konso, they were serving up beans and kurkofa, balls of maize and sorghum dough, boiled and served with moringa (cabbage tree) leaves.

 

Breaking bread

February 5, 2011

There’s a popular Egyptian proverb: “Baynaatna, khobz wa milah.”

Between us, bread and salt.

It means that if I break bread with you, I trust you. We have shared our traditions, we have nourished ourselves at the same table, we have been seated side by side — and so, there will be no fighting between us.

As violence raged in Egypt, with protestors all over the country demanding the resignation of President Hosni Mubarak, I was in desperate need of a little bread and salt. Though I was far from any danger, hunkered down in the little Red Sea town of Dahab, I was incredibly worried about gas, food, water and money shortages, and I was skeptical about my chances of leaving the country if the situation got worse. The government had already cut off the internet, there was little news coming our way, and the U.S. Embassy was absolutely no help. The lack of information was downright scary, and I didn’t know if it was safer for me to stay or go.

So on Sunday, I paid a Bedouin man to drive me out of there. He took me from Dahab up to the northern port town of Nuweiba. I was disoriented, upset, frightened.

The Bedouin man gave me food. It was what he could find and afford — hot dog buns, potato chips, fruit cocktail — and it was a feast, considering the circumstances. Before he left me for the night, he gave me a package of chocolate cookies and instant Nescafe coffee, a gift of nourishment for the journey ahead.

The next morning, I woke up in a seaside hut. I was cold, hungry, lonely. I was fretting about the ferry that was supposed to take me from Red Sea into Jordan. The stress made my stomach hurt.

Then another Bedouin man took me out for a typical Egyptian breakfast — fries, falafel, pita bread and fuul, a slow-cooked paste made from fava beans, tomatoes, onion, spices and swirls of tahini.

Sitting in a nameless cafe, I shared hot falafel with strangers and received sustenance that went far beyond the food.

Between us, bread and salt.

I’m not positive, but it might have been the best meal of my life.

To make your own Egyptian breakfast, try this falafel recipe — and then share it with someone.

Ingredients:

  • 1 cup dried chickpeas or 16 oz. can of chickpeas or garbanzo beans.
  • 1 large onion, diced
  • 2 cloves of garlic, chopped
  • 3 tablespoons of fresh parsley, chopped
  • 1 teaspoon coriander
  • 1 teaspoon cumin
  • 2 tablespoons flour
  • Salt
  • Pepper
  • Oil for frying

Directions:

(Omit these steps if using canned beans.) Place dried chickpeas in a bowl, covering with cold water. Allow to soak overnight. Drain chickpeas, and place in pan with fresh water, then bring to a boil. Allow to boil for 5 minutes and let simmer on low for about an hour. Drain and allow to cool for 15 minutes.Combine chickpeas, garlic, onion, coriander, cumin, salt and pepper to taste in medium bowl. Add flour. 

Mash chickpeas enough to mix ingredients together. You can also combine ingredients in a food processor. The result should be a thick paste.

Form the mixture into small balls, about the size of a golf ball. Slightly flatten.

Fry in two inches of oil at 350 degrees until golden brown, about 5-7 minutes.

Serve hot with tahini sauce, hummus or stuffed inside a pocket of warm pita.

 

Fa-la-la-la-la-lafel

December 26, 2010

When my husband and I were tryng to figure out where in the world to meet for the holidays, I threw out some practical suggestions.

“London is a good halfway point and a big airline hub.”

“Nah.”

“Paris? It’s easy to get there and it would be romantic. Or Rome? Frankfurt? Istanbul?”

“Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.”

“Well, Cairo is a major city, but too far out of the way …”

“YES.”

And that’s how we ended up in a predominantly Muslim country for Christmas — because my husband only wants to travel to places that have been in Indiana Jones movies.

Our Christmas day began with a short hop from Luxor to Sharm el Sheikh.

This is the Red Sea. You might remember it from such works as The Bible or Charlton Heston movies.

At the airport, everybody was in the Christmas spirit, even Arab African International Bank …

… and baggage claim.

One cab ride and a few police checkpoints later, The Husband and I arrived at our reefside hostel — so beautiful it felt like a Christmas miracle!

I’ve never been one of those people who gets really into Christmas. My dad usually sends one of those small and droopy Charlie Brown trees, and if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have any decorations at all.

But this year, removed from all the Christmas hype, I found myself aching for lights, garland and tinsel, and I gleefully took photos of anything that resembled the holidays back home.

For breakfast on the beach, I ate falafel, just so that I could make that fa-la-la-lafel joke in the post title. It was delicious, too.

Later that afternoon, our hostel hosted a holiday dinner. The chefs attempted their very first turkey. Even though that’s not really my thing, it was sweet to see how proud and excited they were to present a Christmas meal to weary and homesick travelers.

We ended the day smoking shesha on the beach and watching the waves.

There was no snow this Christmas. No carols, no wrapping paper, no stockings. But we were together, and that was the best present of all.

 

On the menu: Typos

November 25, 2010

Happy Thanksgiving to all my U.S. friends!

In honor of this food-centric celebration, I wanted to post a few items I spied on a cafe menu in Rwanda:

Condimental breakfast
Bread crambed fish
Ovacados
Catalane dressing
Foccacian bread
Beef with homemade groovy
Weept creem
Chopped paisley