Inside Injera ~ African Integrated Gastronomy

There is an integrated intelligence in this revolutionary dish that I periodically revisit in my mind. The injera here is a plate, utensil, sponge, texture, acid, and balance all at once; it is architectural and unforgettable.

It’s unreal how much flavour and power is locked in Ethiopian (and African) cuisine. Maybe their marketing sucks but the food itself is up there at the very top with the best in what I call integrated gastronomy.

The injera, fermented teff-grain flatbread, soaked up the juices and spices like a sponge; it had its own tanginess that added to the balance very fittingly.

In fact, my standard for grains has gone up ~50%. A grain should bring its own spark to the dish rather than be just deadweight or a mere salt absorber. Injera is perfect. If any part of the dish cannot be enjoyed by itself, alone, then it does not belong. I can eat injera flatbread by itself, for it is tangy, spongey, chewy, and delicious. Can’t say the same about plain white rice … it’s a useless carbohydrate I think.

The taste of clove in the red lentil reminded of me of South Indian food. The beetroot and cabbage were vibrant and full of zest and snap. Again, paired with the injera … seriously disarming.

And I wouldn’t call any of the toppings simply a ‘vegetable curry’. It is spiced medley of lentils, beans, leaves, and roots, when eaten together, draws no distinction between taste, vitality, nourishment, and lightness. It’s cohesive and complete.

There was incense in the room too that made this a pure … flow-state type of eating. Easily one of the most memorable experiences I’ve ever had. I could taste the culture and origin in this meal, so much so that it seriously challenges my notion of Post Cuisine. Good food makes me talk but great food makes me shut up and I felt no need to say a word for the entire meal. That day, for ~30 minutes, I was locked in, and I left the restaurant inspired.