Luladey Moges - Enebla: Recipes from an Ethiopian Kitchen

Recipes from an Ethiopian Kitchen

Luladey Moges

This book is dedicated to my beautiful mother, Newaye Kidanu, who taught me most of the recipes in this book and has been my rock and guiding light all my life. And to my father, Moges Tilahun, who was the best person I have ever known. He fostered my love for food and taught me the importance of family. I am my mothers daughter and forever daddys little girl.

Go, eat your food with gladness and drink your wine with a joyful heart

Ecclesiastes 9:7

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9:7

Ethiopia is located in the Horn of Africa. Rich in history, culture, and natural resourcesLucy, possibly the most famous fossil in the world, was discovered in the Hadar region and dates back three million yearsit is one of only two nations in Africa that have never been colonized, despite several attempts by the Italians. Paleoanthropologists consider Ethiopia to be the epicenter of the cradle of humankind and civilization. It is also my birthplace.

I was born in Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia, in the mid-1980s. My memories of my early childhood are filled with playing outside for hours in our garden with my siblings and our family dog, Benji. My dad was very into nature and gardening and had several plants, herbs, and trees like apples, coffee, limes, and tomatoes to list a few. My brother and I would always try to sneak an apple or a tomato without my father finding out, but he always managed to knowor to catch us in the act.

We were fortunate enough to have help at home. Once my schoolwork was done, I would sneak into the kitchen and watch the maids cook our meals. They prepared most of the meals in the second kitchen of the house, which was a place I was not allowed to go as a child. There were a lot of open flames, hot coals that were not always attended to, and the mitad, the very hot stove-top grill where the maids cooked the injera (). As an adult, I understand why it was not a place for a child, but back then I found every excuse to sneak in to watch and learn. Those moments are where my love for food and cooking began.

My love of food and cooking was nurtured in other ways as well. I adored my familys weekend visits to my grandparents house, where I would watch my grandmother and my auntie cook. I also had a chance to cook with my grandmother on those weekends, but my favorite thing of all was watching her make her special shiro wot (chickpea stew, ). But even though I watched her for hours and even learned her secret recipe, the reality is that I could never make it like she did. (Neither could my mother or my aunties!) She had a special touch that none of us have been able to recreate but constantly strive to get close to.

Another fond childhood memory is of all the gatherings and parties my parents hosted. Every weekend was a celebration. From barbecues to mark the end of the week or simply bring our community together, to more elaborate celebrations such as birthday and anniversary parties, my parents used any excuse to have family and friends over.

These get-togethers always involved an abundance of food, with a variety of traditional and non-traditional selections. Some weekends we would have Italian or North American food selections, which were always a hit as they were something different and a treat. The menu would consist of meatballs, fried cauliflower, french fries, lasagna, skewers, spaghetti, burgers... My mother would oversee the menu planning and help the maids with the cooking. My aunts would come over to help with the cooking as well. I was sometimes allowed to help with the easy tasks of rolling meatballs or mixing batterwhich meant the world to me.

Other times, we would have traditional Ethiopian food like kitfo (Ethiopian beef tartare, ) were just some of the favorites we enjoyed regularly at these events. These dishes would be made by our maids, who understood my love of all things food-related and would sneak me into the kitchen when my mom was not looking. While I was careful to avoid getting cut or burned, one time I was chased and stomped on by a chicken.

It happened during the preparation for one of my parents special events. I cant remember what the occasion was, but I do remember that we were having doro wot and I was seven years old. I had snuck into the kitchen as usual and was quietly watching and learning how to make this favorite dish when the house phone started ringing. Our maid Meseret ran off to the main house to answer the phone, leaving me unattended with the chicken. Once my unsupervised rival realized that we were alone, it took the opportunity to make a run for it. My young mind thought it wanted to attack me, so I took off running tooand the chase was on. We ran through the back of the house into the garden area. After what felt like a lifetime, everything came to an abrupt halt when I tripped over my shoelaces. At this point, my adversary only saw me as a speed bump and stomped all over me to get away. My childs mind was convinced that the chicken was after me and was going to hurt me, although it was simply trying not to be dinner. Needless to say, I am still scared of live chickens and, in fact, all birds.

For the most part, my family ate beef, chicken, or goat, but every Ethiopian holiday meal is based on a specific animal. Christmas dinner involves a sacrificial lamb, and Easter dinner always features a chicken, for example. And during Lent, we would eat only vegetarian or vegan dishes like shiro wot (chickpea stew, ). Our culture is immersed in food, whether we are celebrating or commiserating. Food is at the center of all our gatherings, and it is one of the main focal points that shaped my childhood.

In the mid-1990s, Ethiopia was embroiled in a civil war that seemed unending. In a desire to find safety, a better life, and access to quality education, my parents made the life-changing decision to move us to the United States. Our first stop was Dallas, Texas. It was definitely a culture shock as well as an exciting adventure.

While we had been used to eating Western foods back home, I was not prepared for the abundance or variety that greeted us in Texas. So many fast foods to choose from, so many restaurants offering cuisines from all four corners of the world... My young culinary mind was intrigued by the endless possibilities to learn about new cooking techniques.