Ethiopia: Lalibela

Lali, Lali, Lali Get Your Injera Here…
CT Food Tour of the World at Lalibela, New Haven
November 2024

I’m facing a crisis. And if my wife wrote about places like Lalibela like I do, she’d have the same issue. Is it an ethical issue? An existential one? I’m not sure, but it certainly won’t be the first time I face this while journeying “around the world” through Connecticut’s restaurants.

The issue is this: what if Lalibela serves the absolute best of traditional Ethiopian cuisine, using only the best ingredients and cooked with the utmost skill, and… I just don’t really like it all that much? On top of that, the owners appear to be wonderful people, and our own server was lovely. The service was impeccable.

Ethiopian cuisine is renowned for its rich, vibrant flavors, thanks in large part to its unique spices and staple ingredients. At Lalibela Ethiopian Restaurant, we take pride in showcasing the essential elements of Ethiopian cooking, including berbere, mitmita, and injera. These ingredients are not just flavors but the heart of Ethiopian culinary tradition.

When dining at Lalibela, you feel this. Even though Hoang and I were alone in the restaurant for lunch, the decor, the server, the chef peering out from the back; there’s heart and pride. We had both eaten Ethiopian cuisine in our lives, but never here at Lalibela – which many say is the best in the state. (A newer restaurant, also in New Haven, has gained some buzz lately though.)

Lalibela opened in 1999 on Temple Street, and to my knowledge has never wavered from what it has always been: an authentic Ethiopian restaurant with a very extensive menu of “home-cooked” dishes. You don’t use utensils here and you can see from my pictures how the food is plated. It’s all about the injera – the spongy flatbread. That’s your fork and spoon.

You’re going to get a big bowl of injera at any Ethiopian place you ever eat. While staring at the bread, I felt bad whispering to Hoang that they looked like old dishtowels. But the New York Times said this:

With the dish came a basket of what looked like Ace bandages.

It’s gray-tan color comes from ground teff, a native grain in Ethiopia. It has a texture unlike any other bread I know of and in fact, it looks like it’s texture somehow. There’s also a fermented taste to it, which isn’t my favorite. (Yes, fermentation and bread go hand-in-hand, I know.)

The menu offers plenty of vegetarian dishes, and is heavy on legumes and leafy veg. I was happy to find options to sort of mix n’ match. A la carte platters of all sorts are available. I was just as happy to find an Ethiopian beer (Habesha) and an Ethiopian honey wine on the menu. Let’s go to Addis Ababa!

We started off with triangular-shaped, samosa-like pastries called sambusas with lentil filling. (Also available with beef.) As it turned out, these were the highlight of the meal for both of us, as it was well seasoned and mildly spicy. The pastry was light and proper. These left us excited for what was to come.

Ethiopian cuisine is rooted in centuries of tradition. It reflects the diversity of the country’s people, regions, and landscapes. At the heart of this cuisine is injera, a soft, spongy flatbread made from teff, a highly nutritious grain native to Ethiopia. Injera is more than just a side dish—it serves as the foundation of many meals, both a utensil and a base to enjoy with richly spiced stews, vegetables, and meats. The communal nature of dining, where everyone shares from the same platter, reflects Ethiopia’s deep cultural values of hospitality and togetherness.

At Lalibela, we honor these traditions by preparing our dishes using time-honored recipes passed down through generations. We use the finest ingredients, including authentic Ethiopian spices like berbere and mitmita, which bring bold, complex flavors to our food. Whether you’re new to Ethiopian cuisine or a longtime lover of its flavors, you’ll find something to delight your taste buds on our menu.

Hoang’s vegetarian platter consisted of “small bite” versions of:

Yemesir Wot: lentils slowly cooked in a flavorful berbere sauce with a blend of spices.
Misir Alicha: green lentils slowly cooked in a flavorful mild sauce with a blend of spices.
Shuro: highly seasoned chick peas in a berbere sauce.
Kosta: spinach and potatoes slowly cooked in a blend of mild spices.

Eaten with all that injera, I guess that makes a meal. I’m sure there are many Ethiopian fans who would cry at this particular order, and I get that. So much fiber! The true flavors come out in the meats! That’s not a meal!

Look, this is what my wife wanted, so this is what my wife got. I’m not going to argue with her… are you? Really?

The issue she had wasn’t so much the texture or the raw materials, it was the lack of flavor. Every one of those descriptions ended with “spices,” right? But those spices were muted. Very, very muted. The whole think kinda tasted like it looks: blah.

I should note you can get full plates of these items, we opted for sampler platters of sorts. I stepped it up a bit and went with –

Gomen: collard greens slowly cooked in a flavorful mild sauce with garlic and a blend of spices.
Tikel Gomen: cabbage and potatoes cooked in vegetable oil, onions, fresh garlic and a blend of spices.
Doro Wot: chicken cooked in butter and sauteed onions, seasoned with garlic, fresh ginger, berbere, and herbs; slowly simmered until tender.
Siga Alicha: cubed beef sauteed in butter, turmeric, garlic, fresh ginger and white pepper

If you didn’t know, berbere is a spice blend that is a cornerstone of Ethiopian cuisine. It combines chili peppers with fenugreek, garlic, ginger, and sometimes cinnamon or cloves. Its complex, fiery flavor adds depth to dishes like the doro wat I got. Berbere’s versatility makes it essential for achieving the signature heat and richness in Ethiopian cooking.

But again… it just didn’t hit for me. The two meat items were, by far, the best of our eight, but there was nothing “fiery” about it at all. It was mildly spicy at best – and remember, I’m an English German pasty white boy. So if I’m saying it needed more fire, it definitely needed more fire. The meats were cooked to perfection; tender and juicy. I’ll go so far as to say everything was cooked perfectly according to Ethiopian standards, but of course I really don’t know. Everything was mushy and stewy because everything was supposed to be mushy and stewy. the injera works well with that.

At Lalibela Ethiopian Restaurant in New Haven, we believe food is more than just nourishment. It is a powerful connection to culture, history, and tradition. Since 1999, we have proudly shared the rich culinary heritage of Ethiopia, transporting diners to a vibrant world of flavors, aromas, and stories with every plate. Our commitment to authenticity and passion for preserving the essence of Ethiopian cuisine can be felt in every bite.

The decor here speaks to this. The music, the ambiance, even the plates were evocative of Africa. The native beer I drank was pretty good – it was a dry lager like all African beers are, but it was more flavorful than most. I absolutely loved the honey wine though. Unique from anything I’ve ever had, it was as it sounds – a sort of light mead in a way, and it somehow tingled my tongue with each taste. This should be more popular here in the States.

Lalibela is named in honor of an ancient Ethiopian king and I’m sure this cuisine is authentic as nearly as good as it gets. And that’s the thing – as good as it may be for people who are fans of it, it just wasn’t awesome for Hoang or me. I can respect the craft and appreciate the skill employed to cook it, but I can’t pretend we loved it.

But I’m glad we tried it and I’d be willing to do so again with an East African native to tell me where I’m misguided. Though it may take some Addis Abracadabra to change my mind.

Lalibela Ethiopian Restaurant
CTMQ’s CT World Food Tour