Nomad issue #26

ETHIOPIA
W
hen I arrive in
Addis Ababa
on January 7th,
I find that it is
Christmas and
the majority of
people are in
a festive mood, a stark contrast to Nairobi
where I left people reporting to work at the
start of a new year. I have just two days
to spare in this city before heading on the
historical northern route, hitting up spots
like Lalibela and the Danakil Depression.
To make the most of my time, I sign up for
a food tour with Go Addis Tours on my
first day, which promises an immersive
introduction to Ethiopian food; exploring
several restaurants for local food and drinks,
all while walking around town to get a feel
for the daily life here.
I meet Genet, a warm and personable
nursery school teacher-turned-guide that
the tour company pairs me up with, at
Esset Restaurant. Walking in there is grass
spread on a patch of ground at the entrance;
I noticed earlier that my taxi driver had
grass on the floor of his car as well. This is
apparently done during celebrations to wish
each other well. Ethiopian jazz plays softly
on the speakers and one wall is covered in
black and white paintings of the country’s
famous actors, musicians and journalists. At
the open kitchen, the staff are dexterously
pouring a four-day fermented teff flour
mixture onto a circular griddle to bake, to
make the staple dish, injera. This comes
served in a sharing platter accompanied
by shiro, a chickpea stew which quickly
becomes a favourite in my time exploring the
country.
Genet tells me the rules for eating from a
shared platter: use one hand, no licking and
no double-dipping. The waitresses, as polite
and pretty as Ethiopian women are said
Then there is tire siga,
which translates to raw
meat, and that’s exactly
what it is. Straight from
the butcher’s knife, the beef
is diced then served on a
plate, accompanied by a
spicy dip...
to be, go around passing complimentary
freshly-made defo dabo bread, their
Christmas gift to patrons.
After this meal, we take a leisurely stroll
to the next spot called Yeshi buna. Buna
is the Ethiopian word for coffee, which
according to legend, was discovered here
by a shepherd called Kaldi who after
noticing that his goat would become more
energetic after nibbling on the bright red
berries of a particular bush, decided to
try them for himself. Today, the beverage
is typically served black, in espresso-style
cups, with sugar on the side. Yeshi Buna
proudly displays its coffee set at one corner,
and the chairs all have hand carved images
that tell stories of some of the 80 tribes in
Ethiopia, such as a lady from the highlands
spinning cotton by hand. The space is
intimate, the chairs low, and the dish, when
it comes served in a colourful woven basket,
is delicious. We accompany this with a St
George beer which is light and easy to enjoy
even for a beer-averse person like me.
The walk to the final stop takes about
15 minutes which I spend taking in Bole,
considered the nicest part of Addis. Old
taxis and tuk tuks painted white and dark
blue line a cobblestoned street while the
women sashay along in their beautiful
handwoven and embroidered traditional
dresses. I marvel at the charming streetside
cafes and bars and say hello to some
people; by my experience, Ethiopians are
really warm and welcoming. Having worked
up enough appetite to eat again, we get
to Yilma, which Genet boldly declares the
best butchery in Addis. Its claims to fame is
that this is where Anthony Bourdain dined
when he visited the city. It’s a family business
started 50 years ago by the patriarch who
started off selling livestock from his own farm
before progressing into this meat-focused
eatery. Fresh delivery is done daily, and
since Orthodox Christians don't eat meat on
Wednesday and Friday, they remain closed
on those days.
The space is large with numerous tables,
two TVs and a live butchery from which
we order our meat. There are two go-to
dishes here. The tibs is fried up with a lot of
onions and is downright delicious; a typical
Kenyan’s dream. Then there is tire siga,
which translates to raw meat, and that’s
exactly what it is. Straight from the butcher’s
knife, the beef is diced then served on a
plate, accompanied by a spicy dip made
with red chill, awaze, mitmita and mustard. I
take a chunk, dip it into the condiment, then
take a bite. It is really soft and you do get
the sense that you’re chewing raw beef...
but maybe that’s just a psychological thing.
Given the number of spices used in the
condiment, it is really bold and flavourful,
but without it, I probably wouldn’t dare to
eat the raw meat.
Given that it is a holiday, we are unable
to get a place that does a coffee ceremony.
After a delightful time showing me around
Addis, introducing me to the food and
answering all my eager questions about
the culture, Genet and I part ways with
a promise to keep in touch. The night is
still young, so I swing by the oldest coffee
house in town, Tomoca, where the coffee
is still brewed in vintage coffee machines.
Thereafter, I am wired enough to go out
dancing...
Email: info@goaddistours.com
LANGUAGE BASICS
Selam: Hello
Ameseginalew: Thank you
NOMAD MAGAZINE 2020 41