The flavor of the month?

Ethiopian restaurants and stores are cropping up throughout the city. But it is unclear if the culture will integrate into the mainstream or be swallowed up as the young population assimilates

By SETH J. FRANTZMAN
Ethiopian food (photo credit: Julia Schiller )
Ethiopian food
(photo credit: Julia Schiller )
Yossi Desta, a skinny, young-looking man with a wry smile, is the manager of his father’s shop in the Mahaneh Yehuda market. In 1997, Avraham Desta opened the first Ethiopian store in the shuk. He didn’t receive financial support from the government, small-business organizations or banks. Yet the business survived, and today the store sells spices, hair products and oils.
“We opened this place to fulfill a cultural need of the community. It was a clear need of the Ethiopian community to have a place to buy spices and flour. In general, we haven’t changed what we sell over the years, it is just a matter of responding to the community’s needs,” Yossi said.
“If they want a goat, we’ll bring in a goat to sell them. Over time, the people that come here, maybe they have changed, there are more Eritreans for instance, but their needs don’t change.”
Since its foundation, Israel has been a melting pot of various cultures. However, Ethiopian immigration, which began in the 1980s, has left the Israeli palate relatively untouched, though that may be changing with a recent rise in Ethiopian-owned stores and restaurants.
But many of the Ethiopian-owned businesses in Jerusalem are transitory. There was, for a year and a half, a store that sold Ethiopian-themed merchandise on Agrippas Street, before it closed last year. For a time there was also a bar called “Land of Peace” that operated on Nissim Bachar Street in the eclectic Nahlaot neighborhood, and was packed with mostly Eritrean customers.
The reason for the numerous new Ethiopian businesses operating in the city today is three-fold: an increase in the number of Ethiopian Jews living in the city; the burgeoning number of Eritrean and other African refugees who are now living in Jerusalem; and a slightly greater visibility of Ethiopian food among the Israeli public.
BEKELE SHEFARO has run his “Injera Fast Food” since March of this year, opposite the Central Bus Station. A shy, diminutive man who was born in 1982 and came to Israel from Ethiopia in 2004, he is surprised that the media would have much interest in his business.
“I opened this place with my own money and we are open during the day, sometimes until late. I get Israeli customers too who like injera and Ethiopian food.”
Injera, a spongy flat bread that is used in almost all Ethiopian meals, is the mainstay of the Ethiopian diet. Shefaro is a sort of pioneer in this respect, by offering “fast food” and takeaway.
On a Tuesday afternoon his business is full, with eight men and one woman sitting around chatting, though no one seems to be buying much food.
One customer, Mulate T., explained, at a later visit to the place, “I can get Ethiopian food at home, from my wife and family. Here I have people to talk to and a little community. Mostly I’m coming to sit with my friends. I don’t think most of us come for food.”
On Jaffa Road near the Old City, there are two new Ethiopian bars. One of them, the two-month-old Asmara, was opened by a man who moved to Israel in 2006 and caters almost exclusively to Eritreans who have moved to Jerusalem from Tel Aviv. Although the bar also serves food, most of the patrons gather to watch Ethiopian music videos on a small computer.
Another new establishment, Beit El, on Yoel Salomon Street, was opened by Yemani Mekonen about a year ago. Mekonen, who was born in the Tigray province of Ethiopia in 1977, came to Israel in 1993. He decorated the place himself with banners of Bob Marley and the colors of Ethiopia.
“This is a small establishment, it is just me and one employee who does the cooking. I wanted to open this place for the Ethiopian community mostly, but we get some tourists. I think there are more Ethiopians and Eritreans in Jerusalem now than in years past.”
Mekonen opened the eatery with his own money: “I received no help from the banks or the government.
It is too bad, I think that there should be support for opening of small businesses by immigrants.”
One of the problems that places like Beit El confront is that many Israelis and tourists are wary of trying Ethiopian food. Jill Stein, who works just down the street from Mekonen’s place, says “I don’t think I would go there. The food is totally different than what I normally like.”
Jonathan Edelman, a middle-aged tourist from Canada, explained “I’ve eaten Ethiopian food in Toronto where we have a few restaurants, it was pretty spicy. I didn’t even know you have Ethiopian restaurants in Jerusalem.”
The newly opened Tesfay bar and restaurant on Agrippas Street seems daunting to outsiders. Packed full of Eritrean patrons for most of the day and night, Israelis or tourists would feel awkward going through the doors. When I visited this place and several others, the owners and customers seemed suspicious.
“Maybe he is with the government,” said one man.
Another man, at a store called the Ethiopian Ethnic Center, said he absolutely refused to give out any information about his business.
IN CONTRAST to these examples is Shegar, Jerusalem’s oldest surviving Ethiopian restaurant.
Opened in 2003 by Asmamo Shiveshi, it stresses that it serves traditional Ethiopian Jewish cuisine.
Shiveshi came to Israel with Operation Solomon in 1991. His friend, Gatew Agaz, came in 1996. Agaz was asked, several years ago, to come to the restaurant to help make it welcoming to tourists.
“I speak English because I studied in Addis Ababa at a university and Asmamo asks me to come talk with the tourists in case they don’t understand the menu,” he said. “We only serve Ethiopian cultural food here, and we serve kosher food, which distinguishes us from the other places. We are a real restaurant and most of our customers are actually Israelis or foreign tourists. If you come on a Thursday night or Friday before Shabbat you will find 30 or 40 people here. A lot of the other establishments cater to refugees or Eritreans. But we have worked to create a real connection with Israelis.”
Agaz said he has also seen an increase in the number of Ethiopian Jewish youth who have moved to Jerusalem recently and come to the restaurant for a taste of home cooking.
“We don’t advertise, our customers come because of word of mouth,” he said.
Shegar is situated in an alleyway off Agrippas Street, just across from the famed Acadia restaurant. Its menu is small but rich with Ethiopian flavors. There are four vegetarian dishes; two of the traditional lentils (Shiro), a potato dish and a large sampler. For meat there is the traditional Tibse (chopped meat) and Minchet Abish (finely chopped meat), as well as a chicken dish (called Doro Wat). Most Ethiopian meat is grilled with the traditional spice mixture known as Cho, made from berbere, which is a blend of chili peppers and other spices, including garlic and ginger. Ethiopian meat dishes are generally quite spicy, like Indian food, but restaurants like Shegar tone down the spice so that non-Ethiopian palates can enjoy the food.
Among Shegar’s non-Ethiopian customers are Aya Yassin and Debra L., both students at Sde Boker College.
For Aya, it is one of her first visits to an Ethiopian restaurant, but Debra has come often.
“I love Ethiopian food, it is just amazing,” said Debra as she uses injera to scoop up some flavorful meat.
Ethiopian food is generally eaten with the hands, which adds to the experience, but takes some getting used to for new customers.
Among people like Debra, Shegar and its gregarious staff have obtained a loyal following.
THERE ARE four Ethiopian stores in the shuk. The shop owned by the Desta family, which is named Tekoro Anbasa (The Black Lion): Center of Spices, is the oldest.
The other three have been open for two years or less.
Some of the stores vary what they sell, having ready-made injera, or Ethiopian music, movies and decorations. The real economic support for the stores is not from the relatively small Ethiopian Jewish community in Jerusalem, but from Eritrean refugees who have increasingly been moving into parts of Nahlaot.
The Desta story is a success story. The family came to Israel in 1992, just after Operation Solomon.
Avraham opened several businesses, including a small flour mill in Even Sapir and a bakery in Ora.
Yossi, who has five brothers and sisters and served in the Givati Brigade, later came to work in the store.
“People come all the way from Haifa and Tel Aviv to shop here. There are really no major differences between our shop and the other Ethiopian stores. We don’t sell injera, but we do deliver it from our bakery to the restaurants in Jerusalem,” said Yossi Desta.
The clientele consists of Ethiopians, more recent Eritrean arrivals and some non-Ethiopian Israelis.
“Not too many [native] Israelis come, but some do.
In general we sell a lot of the normal spices and beans and oil you will find in the shuk, so they stop and buy those products. However, we also sell the five or six traditional Ethiopian spices. If Israeli non- Ethiopians come I offer them the spices. Some are looking to buy Ethiopian coffee, which we also have.
I try to get them to taste the spices and I’m happy to blend up the traditional spice mixtures for them.”
Desta recognizes that the Ethiopian community is undergoing generational changes. There were very few Ethiopian immigrants in Israel before Operation Moses in 1984, so the vast majority over the age of 27 were born in Ethiopia. That means that the first true generation of Ethiopian Jews is beginning to find its way in Israel, getting out of the army and moving out of their parents’ houses.
“Most young Ethiopians don’t cook their traditional food – they prefer whatever is popular. If the culture tells them to buy shwarma, they buy it for instance. I don’t think Ethiopian food will become part of the Israeli culture. Young Ethiopians don’t care enough. I don’t blame them, but it is a shame, they should preserve their food,” says Desta.
At another Ethiopian store in the shuk the sentiments are similar. Aasia Belay was born in 1994 in Ethiopia and came to Israel in 2001. Her family lived for a time at the small absorption center at Kibbutz Ayelet Hashahar in the North, and then moved to Talpiot in Jerusalem. They come every week to buy Ethiopian spices in the market.
But Belay doesn’t think that her generation is very responsible towards its cuisine. “It is true that it is much easier to find Ethiopian food and stores than it was a few years ago. But in general Ethiopians my age don’t make their own food and I don’t think they will in the future. It is sad.”
Tomer D., a 33-year-old Ethiopian Jew who immigrated in 1984 and lives alone in Jerusalem, says that he sometimes buys premade injera (“it is too complicated to make it”) and Ethiopian spices at the shuk.
But the question of why so few of these shops and restaurants sought or obtained loans and support remains. Michel Ejigu, who runs several shops in Kiryat Yam near Haifa, but purchases hair products for his shops from Jerusalem, has a good perspective on how the system works.
“Before I opened my first store in 1999 I learned there was an organization called Mati [the Small Business Development Center; SBDC], that worked with the Immigrant Absorption Ministry. They offered courses in how to open a business and the ministry would pay for new immigrants to attend the course. It lasted several months and students progressed through ‘grades’ or levels,” he said.
“It was complicated and required too much bureaucracy to apply for loans, so I opened a very small shop initially. When I wanted to expand I went to a local branch of a bank and applied for a loan, showing them my record of success at the first shop.”
Yossi Desta agrees that the only organization he knows of that aids Ethiopian businesses is the SBDC. “No bank would give you a loan, Mati is the only place to go.”
Elad Sonn, the spokesman for the Immigrant Absorption Ministry, explained that his ministry sets aside funds to aid new Ethiopian immigrants to open businesses through the SBDC in Netanya.
“The aid to immigrants includes individual advising, pre-evaluation of business prospects, business planning advice and mentoring, including courses and workshops. The entitlement of Ethiopians to such entrepreneurship services is applicable to any Ethiopian who was born in or immigrated to Israel after 1980.
The Center for Ethiopian Immigrants in the SBDC is helping them integrate into the business sector and Israeli society and this improves the image of Ethiopians in Israeli society.”
In addition, the SBDC “increased its work among the younger generation of Ethiopians and has a coordinator specifically dealing with the Ethiopian community who has more than 10 years experience and is a member of the community.”
This last feature is particularly relevant for recent immigrants who speak Amharic. The SBDC also partners with the Industry, Trade and Labor Ministry and local councils in its work. Until 2010 the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee was also involved in sponsoring Mati.
The Immigration Absorption Ministry has increased its grants to individual immigrants from NIS 155,000 in 2006 to NIS 634,000 in 2009. This money, it seems, is paid out at a rate of about NIS 1,000 per individual, apparently to pay for classes on how to start a business. In addition, the ministry also provides loans of up to NIS 100,000 for six years at 2% interest through the Foundation for Immigrant Business Development. In all cases, whether through the SBDC or through individual grants or loans, Ethiopian immigrants receive extensions on the period under which they qualify to apply compared to other immigrants.
The ministry has supported various Ethiopian-owned business endeavors in Jerusalem, but by press time, the data relating to how much financing the ministry has provided to support Ethiopian entrepreneurs in Jerusalem was not available.
Efrat Yerday, spokeswoman for the Israel Association of Ethiopian Jews, notes that her organization is not involved with the issue of Ethiopian businesses in Jerusalem or whether the opening of those businesses represents a form of integration.
“To see more restaurants, you can view that as part of integration.
I know there are two or three restaurants and shops in Jerusalem. If you go to South Tel Aviv you will see even more with a similar cuisine. The same is true with the spice shops, there isn’t a place in Israel where there is an Ethiopian community without a spice shop with their traditional spices. But we as an NGO have to choose what is most important in terms of advancing integration, and the business aspect is not our priority, others work with that,” she said.
“We at the IAEJ are an organization that works at the national level dealing with the Knesset and the ministries on subjects related to discrimination and integration. If some organization approached us and asked us to put information on our website about helping Ethiopian businesses, we would put it, that’s about it,” Yerday said.
From a national perspective, Yerday argues that the government still has much work to do in terms of integrating Ethiopians.
“Ethiopians are still living in ghettos, in closed environments where 95% of the population is Ethiopian,” she said.
“I can’t say anything specific about Jerusalem, but there are some neighborhoods where you have more Ethiopians concentrated.”
The IAEJ does not work with Eritrean immigrants and refugees so Yerday could not comment on that community in Jerusalem.
The Immigrant Absorption Ministry estimates that there are 3,300 Ethiopian immigrants living in Jerusalem.
For those residents, and others who come into the city, Yossi Desta is hopeful that he is providing a unique service, making available spices not only for a small minority community but other clientele as well. Not far away from his store the sounds of Ethiopian music waft out into the shuk from one of his competitors, bringing the music of a far-off land to the beating heart of Jerusalem’s central marketplace. •