Of all the countries in world, only one has a cuisine that relies on a type of bread that dates to pre-biblical times.
That cuisine is Ethiopian. Its bread is called injera.
Injera
is no ordinary loaf of bread. It’s not a loaf at all. It’s a big disc,
like a larger-than-life pancake made from a batter fermented like
sourdough. The thick batter is poured onto a wide, hot griddle until
little holes form and pop on top. This floppy pancake, sometimes called
Moses bread, is spongy and dark with a vague purple cast. It’s set on a
tray where the bread becomes a dinner plate upon which a variety of
Ethiopian meat and vegetables dishes are set neatly on top, juices and
all.
Ethiopians eat with their hands, so more injera is rolled up for the
diner to tear into pieces. These bits are used by the right hand to
pinch mouthfuls of the food, giving injera also the role of a fork.
Finally, at the end of the meal, anyone lucky enough to still be hungry finishes off the sauce-soaked injera.
Ethiopian
cuisine is exotic and complex with flavors. Yet for a cook of modest
abilities, Ethiopian lush chicken, lamb or beef stews and sautés are not
all that complex to make once ingredients are gathered. Holding back
the home cook is the long process that produces injera.
Making
life easier is a store-bought injera. Called Nile Injera, it’s produced
by Kedija Adam, 37, an Ethiopian woman who came to Sacramento eight
years ago. She is licensed by
Sacramento County to work in her tidy kitchen under the California Homemade Food Act.
“I
was interested to have a business,” says Adam, mother of three ages 6,
4, and 3. “When I came here, I was working outside the home, and when I
had a baby, I decided to stay home because I didn’t have any kin here to
stay home.”