Gursha serves a taste of Ethiopia in Nairobi

“Our biggest ambassador as a country is our food,” says Addis Alemayehou, an Ethiopian who set up the Gursha restaurant in Nairobi.

Gursha in Ethiopia is a communal way of eating on big plates. Families sit to enjoy a meal. You cut a piece of injera (sour fermented pancake-like flatbread), scoop the sauce, but instead of having it to yourself, you feed your friend. That gesture is called gursha.

This is what I am thinking about when they present the food to us: a flowing bowl of injera upon injera, all slow cooked in onions.

Each of the dishes carries the big, fat thumbprint of a chef who understands the fundamentals of these dishes but knows how to add wit and drama.

Injera – to Ethiopians what pap is to South Africans – is the base of the meals at Gursha.

The basic ingredient of injera is rice flour, which is then mixed with a rising agent and water. Injera is served with an assortment of shredded beef, lentils, cabbage, and carrots, to name a few ingredients and spices.

For the vegetarian platter, the dishes most commonly included are a red lentil stew called misir wot, a split-pea stew called kik wat, gomen (collard greens or kale, dinisch ena karat alicah (boiled potato with cabbage), shiro (dried legume flour and a special mix of spices and aromatics typically containing chic pea and yellow split peas as primary ingredients) and key sire alicha (potato, beet and carrot stew), since you ask).

The meal is eaten with the hands so that the different flavours and textures are melded.

But before that, I had coffee, with smoke all over the place. The ritual is almost religious in its precision.

First, the beans are roasted freshly for each batch, then ground in mortar and pestle and added to boiling water in a unique ceramic pitcher/pot that strains the grounds.

The coffee is served in small cups.almost like espresso cups. The popcorn soon follows. Then a small jiko (stove) that is blown to burn Frankincense, a Houdini act that takes having a meal to experiencing dining.

Why the smoke?

Aida Abebe Muluneh, the other partner, gives me a history of how coffee was discovered: a farmer tending to his goats, notices the goats eating the beans and getting excited.

He takes some of the beans home, and his family tells him those are useless, so they throw them in a fire. They notice the nice aroma and they grind the beans and make it into a coffee.

That is how it was discovered. That is simple of course. But Ethiopia, too, is a religious and cultural country, and this happens in churches where it is the monks who are associated with the coffee, hence the smoke.

Gursha is located on Mutiithi Road in Westlands, Nairobi, in a 110-year-old colonial building that was perhaps a function of art itself.

Unlike America’s “melting pot” in which many different cultures blend to create homogeneity out of apparent heterogeneity, Ethiopian culture, like Cuban culture, is not a whole made of seemingly disparate parts but rather the parts themselves, each one distinct while also unique in substance and flavour.

Gursha pays homage to its origins: the walls are painted to reflect Ethiopia’s national colours—green, yellow, and red. Portraits are hung too—great sportsmen, leaders, Ethiopian teachings, rebels…this is an inviting place as it is welcoming. Perhaps the chairs could be higher, but isn’t love unconditional?

“We wanted a space that we could be proud of for several reasons. The Ethiopian connection in Kenya has been a long one, since Kenya’s independence.

“A space where you can come and have an authentic Ethiopian experience, from the food to service, to the atmosphere.

“The coffee and the smells and all that aroma—it’s a bit of home away from home,” says Mr Alemayehou.

The restauranter is not originally from Kenya. Mr Alemayehou came here when his father was transferred from Ethiopia to Wilson Airport in 1982.

“From a Coca-Cola to a Tusker,” as he puts it.

Ms Muluneh has lived in Kenya for eight years, where, aside from the restaurant, she has a 9-to-5 job.

“Ethiopian food is more acceptable globally, because of the gluten-free aspect of it. The demand for a different variety of offerings is high, and we were right on time. People keep saying, “We needed this,” she says.

“In a lot of Ethiopian restaurants, you either choose between aesthetics or food—here we wanted a blend of both. A very nice place with not-so-authentic Ethiopian food, or quite authentic Ethiopian food, but plastic chairs.”

The dream, Mr Alemayehou says, is to have several other locations across Nairobi and expand to Kisumu and Mombasa, and perhaps Naivasha.

“We have authentic food and flavours,” he says, what, arguably other restaurants do not have.

Injera is a uniquely Ethiopian taste the way ugali is not in Kenya. Whilst many countries have ugali by any other name—fufu in Ghana, sima in Tanzania, nsima in Malawi, sadza in Zimbabwe, et al—there is no substitute for injera.

Learning curve

Injera is a staple in Ethiopian households “you can eat injera with injera,” says Ms Muluneh, adding "We want to expand across Africa. This is our learning curve.”

Mr Alemayehou adds that with the buzzing restaurant scene in Nairobi, and a new restaurant opening every other day, it is less about competition than offering a value addition.

“We felt there is a segment that loves Ethiopian food and culture. We are giving people an alternative to something they are already trying.”

What would they teach about restaurant entrepreneurship?

“The first exercise we did set a standard for us. We came up with the forecast projection—rent, utilities, payroll, investment—how much do we need? We predicted our expenses.

We planned so that we were not surprised. That gave us a projection: how much food do we have to sell to break even? We have been making money since the day we opened. Breaking even or just a little over,” he says.

“This is our 24-hour, seven-day-a-week baby. You have to trust your partners because you have the same vision and goal. Do not wait for perfection to start. Start then learn,” he adds.

Entrepreneurship is not easy, and many investors pay for their ambition. For Mr Alemayehou, it is being away from his family.

"Especially when you have younger children,” says the father of two.

Ms Muluneh cautions prudence. As a self-diagnosed overthinker, she errs on the side of discretion. “Sometimes, however, just do it.”

However, it has been worth it, she says.

For dessert, they bring me their cocktail special, and it packs a punch, hitting my gut with the ferocity of a lover. I take no offence.

After all, there are times in marriage when the holy book’s call to love your enemies and the call to love your spouse are the same call.

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