This Authentic Ethiopian Dish Feeds Both Body and Soul
Learning to love injera has given me a deeper appreciation of my culture
I remember not liking injera when I was a kid. The spongy, slightly sour bread wrapped around a savory combination of perfectly cured and spiced meats like chicken, goat, and lamb or the equally flavorful spinach, cabbage, and potatoes just didn’t appeal to my six-year-old palate. The start of the meal wasn’t so bad, when the injera was mostly untouched by the wat (stew or sauce). But by the time all the juices of that day’s particular wat had fully soaked through the injera, turning it into a painter’s sunset dream of red and orange and yellow, I was turned off. I called it “mushy,” and I wasn’t eating it.
My parents, like most Ethiopians, are patient people. Looking back, I suppose they never forced me to eat anything per se, but I always inherently understood that there wasn’t much choice. The food that was put in front of me was meant to be eaten. During what felt like especially long stretches of injera and wat for weeks, I would beg my mom for what I thought to be “white people food”: spaghetti, macaroni and cheese, or even sandwiches! I didn’t yet know the true gift that was the cuisine that sat in our fridge and freezer. I didn’t know how integral it would be to my understanding of my own identity…
