I had my first Ethiopian food when I was 16. I was a bit skeptical, as the thought of wet stuff sitting on bread just ooged me out. My folks are rice people. Gravy and its associated wetness goes on rice, not on bread. I don’t even like my biscuits wet with gravy! Horrors.
Thankfully, my palate’s a bit more sophisticated these days, and I’m always willing to throw down on some stew-soaked injera these days. But unfortunately, I live the Ethiopian food wasteland known as the central San Francisco Bay Peninsula. You see that big, empty space on the land noodle between the two clusters of Yelp pins? That’s my wasteland. Boatloads of wot-free sadness.
