Injera on my mind...

With the closing of Miami's first Ethiopian restaurant, Sheba, more than two years ago now, as well as the subsequent closing of Kaffa, located just down the street, one now has to fly up to DC just to have some Doro Wat, Kitfo, T'ej, and freshly roasted Ethiopian coffee.  What a surprise that Miami just wasn't ready for Ethiopian cuisine [insert sarcastic tone here].  The chief complaint I've heard - and quite the ethnocentric one - was "where's the rice?"  It seems as if Miami's Latin American community has it so ingrained in their psyche that any type of stew NEEDS to be served with rice that if it's not, there's just something wrong with it.  Ethiopia's staple is not rice, but a spongy sourdough pancake called injera.  Add to the lack of rice the fact that injera is grey-colored, spongy, stretchy, and has an unmistakable tanginess to it and there's no surprise as to why Miami's two Ethiopian restaurants shut down within months of each other.  There is no escaping injera in Ethiopian cuisine, just like there's no escaping rice in Asian and Latin American cuisine, especially considering that besides being the starch of your meal, it is also your eating utensil and your plate.  If you don't like injera, then chances are that you won't enjoy Ethiopian cuisine, and to enjoy Ethiopian cuisine you just have to buckle down and develop a taste for injera...that is, unless, you had already fallen in love with it on first bite.

The very qualities that deter most people from injera are the same that attract people to it and to Ethiopian cuisine, in general.  Ethiopian dishes, besides being laden with spices and chiles, also use a great deal of spiced clarified butter, called nitter kibbeh, which gives many Ethiopian dishes an exquisite richness.  The sourness of the injera cuts that richness, and its sponginess helps to soak up the juices.

I had been wanting to experiment with making Ethiopian cuisine at home, but without injera, there is just no way I can do justice to the cuisine.  Unlike rice, couscous, or even naan, injera is something that is hard to find ingredients for, hard to find equipment for making it, and a little complicated to make.  Injera is made from teff flour, which comes from one of the smallest grains in the world and is native to Ethiopia.  Without teff, you cannot make injera, and thus cannot make an Ethiopian meal.  Luckily, I was able to find teff flour made by Bob's Red Mill, which produces phenomenal grains and cereals, at a Publix Greenwise Market.  That was the clue from fate that 2012 will be the year in which I experiment with Ethiopian cuisine and injera.

Like sourdough, the batter for making injera needs to be fermented, and you always need to start with an injera "starter" just like when you make yogurt.  I spent a greater portion of last night doing a bit of research.  I found one recipe from an Anglo woman's blog who has a great love for Ethiopian culture.  She goes through step-by-step processes of how to make an injera starter, and how to make VERY authentic injera.  She's even gone through the trouble of getting an electric mitad (injera griddle) and other traditional implements.  You can check out her instructions and instructional videos here.  The other recipe seems a lot less complicated and actually comes from an Ethiopian webiste, called www.ethiopianrestaurant.com.  I'm thinking a fusion of both recipes would be ideal.  I'm not quite ready to make injera yet, but will definitely keep you posted of when I do venture into my first batch of of it....hopefully with some good Doro Wat and even better company.