Out of Africa (restaurant review)

Jerusalem Post, Weekend Magazine; April 12, 2007

Habash, the new ethiopian Kosher restaurant, offers bewilderment for the taste buds and a not-so-small dose of culture shock.

With an interior designed to look like a village hut - yet decorated with LCD monitors ! -, Habash seeks to make Ethiopian cuisine and culture accessible to both tourists and sabras. The result is a blend of raucous ethnic celebration and - how should I say this? - unpredictable food.

Opened a couple of months ago by Emanuel Hadana, Habash gets its name from the Hebrew form of Abyssinia, the old name for Ethiopia and parts of modern-day Eritrea.
Hadana, a lawyer by profession, looks at his restaurant not so much as a business, but as a way to showcase his community.

Though his heart is definitely in the right place, Hadana's lack of experience in the food industry can be felt in Habash's patchy, haphazard service. Then again, someone in a generous mood might think that it all adds to the charm of the place - as if the diner were joining an Ethiopian family for a home-cooked meal.

I, however, was very hungry.

I began my meal with a yellowish liquor called teaj. Made from the extract of the indigenous Ethiopian gesho leaf, teaj has a coarse texture but a gentle honey-wine flavor. It went down smoothly - which is more than I can say for the next dish: the injera bread. This pancake-like bread made from teff flour should come with a label that reads, "Warning! This tastes like sour sponge."

"Be brave," the waitress said, when she noticed my bewilderment. At first, I thought the bread - or whatever was in it - was spoiled, but no, my waitress assured me that her mother's injera tastes the same way. It's just that injera is not supposed to be eaten alone, but together with the main course.

So I ordered the combination plate, an array of hearty dips and stews served in small bowls and, as per tradition, was instructed to pour the contents onto the bread. I felt like an artist squeezing paint on to a palette.

And just when I recovered from the shock of the sour bread - bam! - the yesega key wot, a peppery beef dish, seared my tongue. Luckily, there was still some teaj leftover.

As I proceeded, I discovered that not all the well-spiced dishes jolted the taste buds. Using both my fork and my fingers - incorrectly, I'm sure - I try the gomen wot. The dish of steamed vegetables tinged with olive oil acted like a balm for my shocked Mediterranean palette.

Next came the kik alicha, a lentil dish which tastes like Indian cuisine.
But in the end, none of the little dishes satisfied me as a meal, so I focused more on the experience of being at Habash - and that it was.

Before dessert arrived, an Ethiopian bassist, piper, and drummer took the stage and performed reggae-like songs. The band was quickly joined by a beautiful dancing duo, and Habash turned rather festive as a group of college-age American tourists tried to copy the traditional movements.

No doubt, that night was a memorable Israel experience for them.

When dessert arrived, I breathed a sigh of relief. That's because the traditional Ethiopian dessert, angocha, tastes like sweet halla roll. Finally, normal flour!
I ordered a coffee, but eventually lost all hope of it ever being delivered to the table. Where did they bring the coffee beans from? Ethiopia?

As I packed up to leave, I noticed that the majority of customers were Ethiopian. One group of friends, apparently celebrating a birthday, took their seats and a woman pulled out a supermarket-bought chocolate cake from a plastic bag. Enough said.

Habash, Allenby 2, (Herbert Samuel Blvd). Around NIS 70 for a meal. (077-210-0181). Kosher.