Injera Love

When you talk to people about Ethiopian food, I find, they either love it (me) or hate it (not me). And the ones who hate it seem to have something against injera. I don't get this. I love most carbs, admittedly, but injera is such an interesting and mouthwatering member of the starch clan. It's a big, flat, spongy pancake. It's a bit sour, but in a good way. It acts as the bed on which your heavenly meal is arranged; it is the utensil you use to scoop food to your mouth. What's not to love?
Last night's dinner took place at Cafe Ethiopia, a groovy little spot on Valencia. My friend and I shared a vegetarian plate: three of the veggie options (yellow split peas; alicha with potato, carrot and cabbage; chopped and nicely bitter collard greens), as well as the fish, chunks of sea bass in a spicy red sauce. There were also two mounds of lettuce/tomato salad in a tart vinaigrette. We happily ate with our fingers, leaving just a crumb or two of injera. I think next time I'll order the honey wine, too. Note: the grain used to make injera is 'teff', honey wine is 'tejj'. I think the two just go together, don't you?