ROCK ROCK ROCK! ROCK ROCK ROCK! Tonight we listen to Avenged Sevenfold in honor of a cute girl I saw online once.
Pour yourself a stiff drink! Here's another home run: mead. You'll soon find out why I have mead in the house tonight. Quaff some, then shout hail to your medieval ancestors!
There's a close up on that color. Beautiful. Mead is honey wine, and this jar was made by my army buddy Alwyn with honey from his own beehives here in North Carolina. You can get it at the store too.
This recipe frankly makes a huge amount of food. I sometimes like to do a lot of cooking on my day off and just feed from the fridge for the rest of the week. If you're not like me, you can make half.
Check out these awesome cabbages from the garden. I use two 'cuz they're small. You're gonna slice the cabbage into ribbons.
Which gives you this. Yeah, it's a big pile, but don't freak, it'll cook down a lot.
Then roughly chop a big mess of carrots. They don't have to be pretty! I love carrots, so this is a two pound bag.
Then slice a couple fat onions into ribbons. Red onions are fantastic here, but use whatcha got, no worries.
You need a small pile of ginger. Not a ton.
You're gonna need a few tablespoons of the Berbere paste we made in part two.
And measure out a teaspoon of salt while you're at it.
We're gonna use my giant enameled cast iron pan for this, but you can use anything really. Put it on over medium high like we always do!
Now you're gonna use that spiced oil from part one! Pour a good amount into the pan and use it to sauté those onions until they are sexy. Doesn't that smell so exotic right now?
There it is...
...and there those are.
Sexiness has been achieved. These onions are nice and relaxed and ready for anything.
So add a whole stick of butter...
Then about 2 tbsp of the Berbere we made in part two, plus a tsp of salt.
Let 'em do their thing for a minute. Stir it up.
Add the ginger...
...then the mead, maybe three quarters of a cup...
...then those carrots, and stir to combine. Turn your heat back up, put the cover on and let those carrots get nice and soft. This could take ten or fifteen minutes.
While you wait, measure a quarter teaspoon cardamom and a teaspoon of fresh ground pepper.
Okay, these carrots have started to soften, so add the pepper and cardamom...
...followed by the cabbage...
...then a good cup and a half of water, and stir well. Cover and simmer until those veggies are nice and soft. This will take a while, which you should use to give your sweetie a foot rub.
Ethiopian food is traditionally eaten with a flatbread called injera, which is like nothing you've ever tasted. Imagine a dosa made from sourdough. Now the bad news: I can't get real injera anymore!
They stopped carrying it at the bakery in my local Arab store. Even here in the Triangle, which is a medical and tech hub with a ton of immigration, there aren't enough Ethiopian people to buy it.
So chances are you won't be able to get injera, even in a large city, unless you live somewhere with a big Ethiopian population, like LA. This meal, I'd have pitas or basmati rice instead. You pick!
Set the table, my friend! You want lots of ice water and napkins or Kleenex because these veggies are hot, baby! Don't forget your rice or bread.
Patience is rewarded. Finally you can dig in! Plus you've got plenty of leftovers for you & your sweetie, and that spiced oil and Berbere in the fridge so you can learn more Ethiopian stuff anytime!
- Ethiopian spiced oil (see guide) or regular oil
- Ethiopian Berbere paste (see guide)
- Two big onions
- A nice head of cabbage
- A mess of carrots
- A stick of butter
- One teaspoon salt
- Fresh ginger
- Black pepper
- Ground cardamom
- Bread or rice
- Ice water and Kleenex!
Wake Forest, North Carolina