Ethiopian Hospitality
The
word for coffee throughout most of the world is similar: 'cafe',
'kofye', 'kahawa', 'kaffa', 'kave,' and other cognates. But in Ethiopia,
where it all started, the word is 'buna'.
Yes, coffee, one of the world's most popular beverages, originated in Ethiopia. Its spread from a plant known only locally to a worldwide commodity makes an interesting story.
The drink was taken from Ethiopia to Yemen in the fourteenth century, where it acquired its Arabic name, qahweh - possibly a localization of 'Kaffa', where the first coffee plants were discovered in EthiopIa.
Legends as to the actual discovery of coffee are numerous, but perhaps the most attractive is that of the 'dancing goats'. According to tradition, Kaldi, a young Ethiopian goatherd from Kaffa, was surprised that his lazy and sleepy charges became suddenly invigorated and began to prance about excitedly after chewing certain berries. He tried the berries himself and found them stimulating - indeed in large enough quantities they produced a mood of merriness akin to intoxication.
The legend has it that a monk from one of the many monasteries nearby came upon Kaldi in this happy state and decided to try the berries too. That night, during an arduous session of prayer, he discovered that he remained wide awake with his mind more active and acute than it normally was on these occasions.
Accordingly he passed on the coffee secret to the brothers of his order and soon all the monks in Ethiopia were chewing the berries, rendering up their devotions without the troublesome interference of sleep.
Yes, coffee, one of the world's most popular beverages, originated in Ethiopia. Its spread from a plant known only locally to a worldwide commodity makes an interesting story.
The drink was taken from Ethiopia to Yemen in the fourteenth century, where it acquired its Arabic name, qahweh - possibly a localization of 'Kaffa', where the first coffee plants were discovered in EthiopIa.
Legends as to the actual discovery of coffee are numerous, but perhaps the most attractive is that of the 'dancing goats'. According to tradition, Kaldi, a young Ethiopian goatherd from Kaffa, was surprised that his lazy and sleepy charges became suddenly invigorated and began to prance about excitedly after chewing certain berries. He tried the berries himself and found them stimulating - indeed in large enough quantities they produced a mood of merriness akin to intoxication.
The legend has it that a monk from one of the many monasteries nearby came upon Kaldi in this happy state and decided to try the berries too. That night, during an arduous session of prayer, he discovered that he remained wide awake with his mind more active and acute than it normally was on these occasions.
Accordingly he passed on the coffee secret to the brothers of his order and soon all the monks in Ethiopia were chewing the berries, rendering up their devotions without the troublesome interference of sleep.
For
many centuries after its discovery, coffee was eaten and not drurlk.
Berries were either taken whole or crushed and mixed with ghee
(clarified butter), a practice that persists in the remote parts of
Kaffa and Sidamo provinces to this day. Later refinements included a
variety of wine made with fermented pulp and another concoction produced
from the dried fruit and beans. It was not until the thirteenth
century that the practice of brewing a hot drink from roasted beans was
introduced, but this soon acquired widespread popularity.
Ceremonial honors
Coffee
is widely drunk in Ethiopia, and it is treated with the respect
properly due it. It is one of the country's big earners of foreign
exchange. But the honour bestowed upon it in the Ethiopian home has
nothing to do with that. It is simply because the drink is appreciated.
A typical delicious Ethiopian meal is followed by an elaborate coffee ceremony. While the guests are replete after their injera and wot, a woman of the household quietly starts the ritual. She scatters freshly cut grass on the floor in one corner of the room to bring in some of the fragrance and freshness of the outside. She seats herself in that corner on a low stool beside a charcoal brazier. She lights incense, further enhancing the pleasant setting.
She usually produces something to nibble on which she passes around to the guests. Then she roasts the green coffee beans, shaking them on a concave pan to turn them and roast them evenly.
When they are toasted just right, she brings the pan with the roasted beans around, shaking it in front of each guest, to give all the pleasure of smelling the fragrant odour. Then she disappears into the nether regions of the house. From there comes the sound of pounding as the beans are ground by mortar and pestle. She comes back with a traditional clay coffee pot, round and plump at the base, usually with a long narrow neck ending in a pouring spout at the top.
She heats the water in the pot, puts in the coffee, and brings all to a boil. Then she pours the coffee into little handleless cups, adds sugar and often a sprig of rue. And serves. The coffee is delicious - full-bodied but not the least bitter.
After everyone has drunk and enjoyed, she collects the cups, adds more water, and brews a second round, using the same grounds. Tradition calls for even a third round, if the guests wish. Ethiopians say the first round, the strongest, is for the fathers, the second for the mothers, and the third, weakest, for the children.
A typical delicious Ethiopian meal is followed by an elaborate coffee ceremony. While the guests are replete after their injera and wot, a woman of the household quietly starts the ritual. She scatters freshly cut grass on the floor in one corner of the room to bring in some of the fragrance and freshness of the outside. She seats herself in that corner on a low stool beside a charcoal brazier. She lights incense, further enhancing the pleasant setting.
She usually produces something to nibble on which she passes around to the guests. Then she roasts the green coffee beans, shaking them on a concave pan to turn them and roast them evenly.
When they are toasted just right, she brings the pan with the roasted beans around, shaking it in front of each guest, to give all the pleasure of smelling the fragrant odour. Then she disappears into the nether regions of the house. From there comes the sound of pounding as the beans are ground by mortar and pestle. She comes back with a traditional clay coffee pot, round and plump at the base, usually with a long narrow neck ending in a pouring spout at the top.
She heats the water in the pot, puts in the coffee, and brings all to a boil. Then she pours the coffee into little handleless cups, adds sugar and often a sprig of rue. And serves. The coffee is delicious - full-bodied but not the least bitter.
After everyone has drunk and enjoyed, she collects the cups, adds more water, and brews a second round, using the same grounds. Tradition calls for even a third round, if the guests wish. Ethiopians say the first round, the strongest, is for the fathers, the second for the mothers, and the third, weakest, for the children.
Indulging
in all three rounds is tempting, as the brew is so tasty and satisfying
after a hearty meal. But the coffee is strong, and the unwary can lie
awake, wide-eyed throughout the night after such an indulgence.