At the Table: Food and Family around the World - Ken Albala (2016)

Ethiopia

Alessandra Grasso

SETTING THE SCENE

A cock crows as the monotonic shrill of morning prayer vibrates throughout the compound. Rediet Tilahun, mother of five, is up before sunrise and getting ready to drive to the market. Approaching the end of September, the rain is starting to subside, and the sun is starting to shine. Bright yellow meskel flowers illuminate her compound, just like the hillsides of Addis Ababa, the capital city of Ethiopia. Misrak, the family maid, bought the flowers from a countryman and scattered them on the ground to symbolize freshness and a new year.

It is Thursday, a nonfasting day, which for an Ethiopian Orthodox Christian means that one can cook and eat animal products. For Rediet, it is a special day because her sister from the north of Ethiopia is visiting, and her husband, a moringa farmer who spends a great deal of time away on his farm 310 miles south of the city, returned home for the week. She is also expecting two forengis (foreigners) over for dinner, a rare spectacle in the Tilahun home.

Her children are still in bed when Rediet sets off to the market. Three miles away, a man named Mesfin sells the best chicken in the Bole neighborhood. Rediet has been buying chickens from him for as long as she can remember. In her car, she does the sign of the cross as she passes an Ethiopian Orthodox church and arrives at the market, greeted by chicks chirping and kids running around. After exchanging greetings and three kisses on the cheek (left, right, left cheek), Mesfin holds up several live chickens that are tied upside down so Rediet can observe the spur of the chickens’ feet to estimate their age. Choosing two chickens that are relatively young, determined by the short length of the spurs, Rediet places the live chickens in the trunk and heads home to begin the culinary journey of doro wat, a spicy Ethiopian chicken stew.

The Tilahuns live in a compound composed of two buildings that is shared with extended family, two wild dogs that they’ve taken under their care, and four puppies. Rediet spends a lot of time in the middle of the compound, which serves as an open-air kitchen for her family. In a room accessible to the middle of the compound, she keeps all of her cooking equipment: an electric injera maker (injera is the unleavened Ethiopian flat bread or dinner table bread) handed down to her by her mother, an electric food processor, an electric burner, and cooking utensils, such as pots, pans, knives, and a cutting board. Outside, she keeps a charcoal stove that, when it’s not burning to cook a pot of wat (stew), is burning frankincense, a common ritual especially during Ethiopian coffee ceremonies.

Albala

The Tilahun’s dinner table on a casual night: Rediet (front left) with her daughter Betanya (back right) and husband (head of the table) and two guests right before sharing doro wat and injera. (Courtesy of Alessandra Grasso)

PREPARING DORO WAT

For the doro wat, Misrak already has the fire going with all the ingredients and equipment needed; the only thing missing are the live chickens in the trunk of Rediet’s car. Doro wat, a national dish of Ethiopia, is a very spicy chicken stew served with injera, which serves as a sponge to soak up all the rich flavors of most Ethiopian dishes as well as a tool to pick up the pieces of food with the fingers of the right hand. Ingredients of doro wat include finely minced onions, whole chickens (excluding head, feet, intestines, and stomach), tomatoes, peeled hard-boiled eggs, niter kibe (Ethiopian spiced butter), and berbere (an Ethiopian spice mixture of chili pepper, garlic, ginger, basil, cardamom, black and white pepper, fenugreek, and rue). Chicken is the most expensive ingredient followed by the onions, since they are not harvested during the rainy season. All of the ingredients except for the chickens were purchased at either a local supermarket or from vendors right next door to their compound. While injera can be found at the local supermarket, Rediet makes her own with her electric injera maker. She ferments teff for three days at room temperature, using reserved dough as a starter, and then fries a thin layer of dough on the electric griddle. Every three days, she makes 30 large injera pancakes and stores them in the maker.

Misrak finely minced about six and a half pounds of onions with the electric food processor and has them cooking in a pot on top of burning coals. The onions become a watery mash after a couple of rounds in the food processor, so it usually takes at least an hour before all of the water is cooked out of the pot. As it sizzles, Rediet takes the chickens out of the car, and her husband, Solomon, comes out of the house to prepare for slaughter. Traditionally in Ethiopia, the man of the house is the one to slaughter the animal, while the woman of the house is the one to cook. Also, it is shameful for a man to take any role in the kitchen; however, Solomon enjoys cooking and helping out and doesn’t stick with this tradition, since he has adopted Western practices after living and going to school in the United States.

With a sharp knife in hand, Solomon nods to signal that he is ready for the chickens. In the middle of the compound, he respectfully says a prayer right before he grasps the head of one chicken and quickly severs its neck. He repeats the prayer and motions for the second chicken. Rediet holds the chicken as it is sacrificed and quickly places it under a plastic bucket until the chicken stops flopping around and bleeding out.

Once it is quiet under the bucket, both Rediet and Misrak get down and dirty with work. First, the chickens are placed in a bucket of scalding water to loosen the feathers. Rediet and Misrak take seats beside the bucket and start plucking away. Once all the feathers are in a pile beside the bucket, Rediet burns a piece of newspaper and places the flame under the chickens’ skin to burn off its fine hairs. Then it is time to wash and rinse. Washing involves scrubbing the skin with an aqueous solution of shiro powder (an Ethiopian chickpea and spice powder mixture) and water, followed by rinsing with water, lemon, and salt. With a knife, Rediet scrapes off the slimy part of the chicken before skinning it and removing the organs. The puppies run over and aggressively fight as the stomach and intestines of the chickens are discarded. The heart and liver are saved for the stew.

Once the chickens are skinned and gutted, Rediet and Misrak cut each chicken into 12 identical pieces. Each piece of the chicken has significance in terms of quality and nutrition. The backbone is the highest quality of meat and is given to the eldest at the table or the guest, followed by the chicken breast, legs, wings, and skin, given to children and finally the wife. Rediet and Misrak work nimbly and fast because they’ve been preparing chicken since they were children.

As each chicken is cut into the 12 pieces, the pieces are thrown in a pot with water, lemon, and salt.

Once all of the water from the onions is fully evaporated, Rediet adds to the pot the tomatoes that have been through the food processor; a splash of sunflower oil; a generous dollop of niter kibe; the 24 pieces of chicken, including 2 hearts and 2 livers; 6 peeled hard-boiled eggs; and a sprinkle of berbere. After 40 minutes of butchering, cleaning, and cutting the chicken, Rediet and Misrak get a break as they wait 5 hours for it all to simmer and slowly cook on the hot coals.

THE DINNER TABLE

Each day, there are three typical meals in Ethiopia that last an hour at most: breakfast in the early morning; lunch in the afternoon, followed by coffee; and dinner in the early evening. While breakfast can be toast with butter and jam, scrambled eggs, or injera firfir (shredded injera mixed with butter and berbere), lunch and dinner typically consist of the much heralded Ethiopian staples wat (stew), kitfo (shredded raw meat), and tere sega (sliced raw meat) with injera. Unless diners are eating pizza or pasta, injera is the foundation of every meal. Injera can be made of either white or red teff, corn, sorghum, barley, or a mixture of two or three of these. Rediet makes her injera out of teff because her family can afford it, prefers the taste, and knows the nutritional benefits of teff—naturally gluten-free, low in sodium and fat, high in minerals, and rich in protein. For dinner, Rediet peels off four large pancake-shaped injeras that were made the day before and stored in her injera maker.

As 5:00 p.m. approaches, all of the kids put down what they are doing—books, TV, music—and go to the dining area to help prepare for dinner. Aman, the only son, sets the table with a white plastic tablecloth. Selam and Tigist, the two youngest children, retrieve paper napkins, glass plates, glass cups, and bottles of soda, water, and Ambo (Ethiopian sparkling water) and place them on the table. If it was a holiday, Solomon would take out his strong, thick homemade honey wine, tej. Abeba, the second-eldest daughter, helps Rediet unfold one large injera and places it onto a metal plate, which is then placed on a colorful straw plate that is covered by a top that looks like a party hat. Betanya, the eldest, is in charge of walking around the family room with a pot of warm water, a tray, and soap. She walks to the guests first, father second, and then all of her siblings and pours warm water over their hands as they scrub with soap. Because they eat with their hands, clean hands are a must.

Solomon sits at the head of the table. His children typically sit beside him; however, because guests are over for dinner, Aman, Selam, Tigist, and Abeba already ate dinner that consisted of shiro and injera. Tonight Daniel, a forengi from the Netherlands, sits at Solomon’s right, and Betanya and her aunt sit on Solomon’s left. Rediet presents her doro wat, still bubbling in a clay pot, with Misrak trailing her with a plate stacked with rolled-up injera. I ask Rediet to sit so I can snap a picture of the dinner before our right fingers bathe in the burnt-orange stew of spicy goodness.

After the picture is taken, Misrak brings in the colorful straw plate of injera and places it in the middle of the dinner table. One pristine injera covers the large round metal plate and is quickly besmirched with a large spoonful of bubbling wat. The sauce moves toward the edges of the plate in a capillary motion, and the aroma of berbere engulfs the dining room and triggers mouths to water. Six hard-boiled eggs are placed on the edge of the plate, one for each person. Then the chicken is allocated—Solomon and Daniel got the meaty backbone, and the other pieces are placed in the middle for anyone to take. Misrak finishes the presentation of the meal with small spoonfuls of mitmitaand berbere on two sides of the plate for dipping.

After a quick prayer led by Solomon, right hands dive down with deft precision and ensnare the doro wat in the net of pristine injera. Silence is in the form of happy mouths chewing on tender chicken and soaking in all of the flavorful spices. Small chatter is made about the day—what everyone did and how everyone is feeling—yet there is no need for words. Because she doesn’t see her father too often, Betanya asks Solomon for a gursha. Gursha is when someone feeds another, a gesture no different from a hug between friends. She loves his gursha because he always has the right combination of meat, sauce, spice, and injera.

When the spice becomes overpowering, one reaches for a cold drink with the left hand since the right hand is serving as a utensil. The rolled injera is quickly gone before everyone pulls from the injera soaked in the wat. It is rude to reach over to someone else’s side of the plate, so when Betanya wants the chicken breast that is closer to Rediet, the whole plate is turned for her to reach it. The men at the table eat their portion of chicken plus an extra serving and have at least two rolls of injera. Each woman chooses a small piece of chicken and takes one roll of injera.

It is expected that everyone is to sit at the table until all are finished eating and that diners do not clean their hands with paper napkins until they are completely full. There are no interruptions other than the occasional complement to Rediet and Misrak. Talking with the mouth full, distractions such as cell phones, and natural yet unpleasant affairs such as burping are forbidden and considered very rude. It is also taboo to speak of anyone who has passed or anything gory, since it is believed that the evil spirit will look down upon them.

Thirty minutes pass until there is no trace of doro wat on anyone’s plate. Betanya goes around a second time with warm water, soap, and a tray so everyone can wash their hands, and the chatter grows. In the meantime, Misrak clears the table and washes the metal plate and glasses. If there were leftovers, they would be saved for lunch the next day. But it is very rare to have leftovers with doro wat.

Slurping and Table Noise

In Japan, it is not a good bowl of noodle soup if you don’t noisily slurp it up. The same action is considered rude in Europe. A belch is absolutely disgusting at the table in the West, while in many cultures it is the best compliment one can offer to the host. While singing is usually frowned upon at the table as is any other form of extraneous noise, apparently among the Inuits farting after a meal is grand gesture of appreciation.

COFFEE CEREMONY

Since the night is young, Misrak throws two handfuls of coffee beans onto the plate that is cooking above the charcoal stove. She uses tongs to skillfully pick up two pieces of burning coals and puts them in a small bowl to burn frankincense. The pungent scent of roasting coffee beans mingles with the heady smell of incense. The aroma reaches everyone sitting around the dinner table, followed by the sound similar to pebbles hitting a steel drum. Misrak stirs and shakes the beans until they turn black and shiny. With a pestle and long-handled mortar, she finely grinds the coffee and slowly stirs it into the black clay coffee pot known as a jebena. Once ground coffee settles at the floor of the round-bottomed pot, Rediet gracefully pours a thin golden stream of coffee into small decorated glass cups from a height of one foot with impressive precision. Misrak first serves Solomon and then the guests, followed by Betanya and Rediet.

Conversation persists as three cups of coffee with generous amounts of sugar are consumed. The traditional ceremony is a tenet of friendship and respect and consists of three rounds: abol, tona, and baraka. While the dinner lasted no longer than 40 minutes, the coffee ceremony continues for at least 2 hours. Dialogue transitions from Betanya and her father talking about college in the United States to Solomon describing his faith in miraculous powers of moringa. Rediet joins Misrak in the kitchen to finish washing the dishes. Betanya kisses her father goodnight, and the night comes to an end as the guests, glowing in happiness from a good meal, bundle up in their coats to face the chill of the Ethiopian night.

Doro Wat and Injera

Serving for 10-12 people

For the doro wat:

10 pounds of onions, finely minced

Vegetable oil

5 pounds of tomatoes, coarsely chopped

8 cloves of garlic, minced

Berbere, as desired

2 full-sized chickens, cut

1.Place onions in a large pot on medium heat. Stir until it turns light brown (30-35 minutes).

2.Add a generous amount of vegetable oil until it finely coats the onions.

3.Add tomatoes to the pot; stir occasionally for about 30-35 minutes.

4.Add garlic to the pot.

5.To your liking, add as much berbere as you want (the more the spicier) and cook for 20 minutes (rediet normally adds a half pound of berbere).

6.Add chicken and leave until cooked and tender, about 1 hour and 30 minutes.

For the injera:

2 cups of water

1½ cups of teff flour

Vegetable oil to coat

1.Add water to the teff flour and mix until it is a thin dough mixture.

2.Cover with a cheesecloth or towel and leave it for three days at room temperature.

3.Once there are bubbles on top and you can smell the sour aroma, it’s ready.

4.Bring a large pan to medium heat and lightly coat with vegetable oil.

5.Pour batter into the pan to fill the entire surface and cover with a lid.

6.It takes about 5-7 minutes to cook, and you will see the top bubble and start to dry out.

7.Remove with spatula and place on a plate. Repeat until dough is gone.