Ethiopian food has grown in such popularity that it’s available in most major cosmopolitan cities around the world, from New York to Tokyo to Paris to London. Even smaller metropolises tend to have a restaurant or two these days. Obviously, without the Ethiopian diaspora community the many restaurants serving the country’s unique, native cuisine would likely not exist, but the food also has to be good and have broad appeal to thrive in such diverse geographies. Let’s take a look at that appeal, and then pair some sake with it.
As rice is the staple of Japanese tables, bread is that of Ethiopia’s. Their bread is a spongy, thin one called injera. It’s made from teff, an ancient grain that’s cultivated in Ethiopia but is not widely available outside the country. Most injera you eat beyond its borders uses wheat flour as well. Injera has a flavor that’s sour or tangy (depending on how your palate perceives it), and it’s more pronounced if it’s all teff. Tangy isn’t a flavor profile you encounter much at all in Japan so there is no obvious sake that we can recommend to try with it… we’d have to try a few out.
But that hardly matters because the flavor of Ethiopian cuisine is defined more by what you eat with the bread. Often, it’s a wonderfully spiced combination of vegetables and meats that have an earthy, slow burn. It’s not sharp and spicy like Mexican or Thai. It doesn’t detonate on your palate. Yes, it relies on chile, but the popular spice blends, berbere and mitmita, are complex and balanced (chefs can always dial up the heat if they want). Vegetables are often in abundance and might include chickpeas, lentils and other beans and pulses. Instead of chopsticks, forks or spoons, you tear off pieces of the injera to pinch up bites of the veggies and meat. They are often presented in combination on a ‘platter’ made of injera.
Because of the deep, smoldering heat, a delicate sake like a light, fragrant daiginjo would get trampled. Look for something with medium to full body and good structure. An edgy honjozo or well-balanced futsû-shu with bite would work, too, but we like a good yamahai. They often have earthy flavors that seem to bridge well the Ethiopian flavors. We fell back on one of our favorites, Yuho’s Eternal Embers, a rich junmai with great versatility and character. At room temperature, it pairs really well with an Ethiopian combo platter.
We regularly search around for restaurants with reasonable corkage fees that specialize in a specific cuisine most people wouldn’t associate with sake. The pairings often work quite well! We usually give the chef and/or owner a taste, too, to try to get them turned on to the possibility of sake. We’ve succeeded a few times, too! How surprised would you be to find sake at an Ethiopian restaurant? Or rather, how pleased would you be? Until you find that pioneer, bring your favorite bottle and let us know if it worked for you.
