Ethiopian food is quite trendy in the dining capitals of the world. As it makes its first appearance in India, we discover how it can be exotic and familiar at the same time
Despite the unfortunate images of drought it summons up and issues with food security, Ethiopia can claim to be the latest culinary hot spot in the fad-driven world of eating out. Indeed, Ethiopian food has been steadily seeing a rise in popularity across America and Australia not to mention in melting pots such as London. And now, we can sample some of it, right here in our midst in New Delhi.
Last week saw me stumbling upon some unusual bites at Blanco, a restaurant in Delhi?s Khan Market, running a month long African food promotion, featuring dishes from Ethiopia, and also a smattering of pop stuff from Tanzania and South Africa. Some of these will go on to be part of the regular menu, says restaurateur and consultant Sudha Kukreja, who has put together the festival, after having toured the not-so-dark continent recently and joined forces with her cousins who are in the business of food in East Africa. It?s a start as far as the availability of these distinct new flavours are concerned in India.
For anyone not acquainted with the intricacies of Ethiopian (East and South African) dining, the first thing that strikes you is how the cuisine(s) are at once exotic as well as familiar. And we are not just talking about dishes that are credited with an Indian origin. The likes of bunny chow, a popular South African street snack for instance, comprising a loaf of bread hollowed out, into which curry is then poured. The bunny chow is ostensibly a dish that came into being as an improvisation?when the ?bania? (hence the name ?bunny?, it has been suggested) community based in South Africa started selling this as a wholesome snack; the scooped out bread functioning as a bowl of sorts to hold the takeaway curry.
But even if you don?t settle for the bunny chow and want to sample some Ethiopian wonders, you will be surprised at how close not just the flavours but the culinary culture is to what we follow in India. Injera is the distinctive flatbread from the region. At first glance, it may resemble an open, unfolded dosa. But instead of rice, this one is made of a local millet variety called Teff. Traditional Ethiopian food does not use utensils. Instead, the other dishes including stew/curry (called wat) is served on a large injera. Like the wazwan in Kashmir and other regional traditions in India, where food is always about community-eating and often had by many people off the same thali/plate, groups of four or more sit around an injera, sharing a common meal.
Fried snacks, grains and pasta make up a large portion of the traditional cuisine. But what should undoubtedly be of comfort to the Indian palate and heart is the spiciness of the cuisine. Like in regional Indian food traditions, a combination of diverse spices goes into the meal. I had the most delicious (red masoor) lentils cooked with spices, perhaps the only country with a tradition akin to our own dal/stew.
There are two other essential ingredients that define Ethiopian cuisine: one is the berbere, a combination of chilli and other spices (more than 20 spices go into the mix; quite like our garam masalas) such as cardamom, pepper, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, star anise, all spice, coriander seeds, et al. The second is niter kibbeh, a kind of herb-infused clarified butter that is the most common fat used to cook anything.
I asked Sudha to explain the cooking process of an Ethiopian stew to me and once again, the similarities with how we would approach an Indian curry are striking. A big amount of red onions are first sauteed in a pan. When these turn soft and translucent, add the oil or niter kibbeh (unlike in India, fat is added only later). This is followed by the meat and then the spice mix. Finally, the dish is finished with a dab of the clarified butter. The result is an aromatic, flavourful mishmash that you would be quite at home eating.
Ethiopian food aside, if you do get a chance, also sample the kuku paka, a Tanzanian stew, full of spices, chili, coconut and peanut. This was a poor man?s dish once upon a time. But in these days of globalisation and the proliferation of culinary exotica, it?s quite a dish in demand in any food capital of the world. As the worlds of business and cuisine rediscover the cradle of civilisation, Africa, after all, is no longer a dark continent.
The writer is a food critic
