A little know fact (well I didn’t know it until I looked it up) is that Ethiopia has an average elevation of 4,364ft, which is only slightly less than Switzerland (4,429ft), with a high point of 14,930ft. To put that into a UK context, Ben Nevis is 4,413ft and the UK’s average elevation is mere 246ft.

With that elevation it gets (surprisingly) cold, in certain parts of Ethiopia, based on an alpine climate with frosts not uncommon. As such, the fact that a lot of their food is quite hearty is perhaps not a surprise.

Many moons back, J and I visited an Ethiopian restaurant in Brum. Despite it being rather rough and ready decor wise, with questionable food presentation athestics, 

I rather liked the food (J not so much and she still bemoans going there to this day), but not really the drink in the form of Tej

which was gawd awful (sort of how I imagine mead mixed with diesel would taste – sorry Ethiopia I know it is the national drink and you call it the “King of drinks”, but it was not for me). I mused at the time that it would be nice if an Ethiopian placed (sans, perhaps, the tej) opened up in Cardiff.

My interest was thus piqued by Merthaba Habesha, an Ethiopian/Eritrean restaurant in the yet to be gentrified Cardiff burb of Adamstown.

This is on the face of the current somewhat hostile relationship between Ethiopia and Eritrea a potentially  interesting mix, but notwithstanding said enmity these two antagonists share a lot in common in terms of cuisines (Eritrea has more seafood due to having a coastline – much to Ethopia’s chagrin, as it does not and wants one – and more Italian influence from their colonial rule from 1890 to 1941, which Ethiopia for the most part avoided based on the victory of the indigenous population at the Battle of Adwa in 1896).

Both seem to base meals on the ubiquitous injera, which is in effect an edible plate for Ethiopian/Eritrean food.

The exterior does not exactly invite you in and I had to squint to read the badly faded “We are open” sign as it looked pretty closed/dare I say nigh on derelict.

It really, really does need a lick of paint as you ain’t going to get much passing trade based on that facade to be frank. Condemned building chic is yet to take hold here.

Even I, who (so Mrs. SF tells me) often looks like a hobo, thought twice about going in.

Inside it is a little better,

but still pretty rustic/basic.

The main menu here oddly doesn’t mention injera at all,

but on asking it pretty much comes with everything.

I had heard good report regarding the delights of tibsi (a spiced meat stew) and asked how hot the awaze (hence title, so not a typo – bet you all thought it was didn’t you) tibsi was, with it referring to it including a hot pepper sauce.

From a quick internet search, I discovered that the awaze is a sauce that consists of chilli peppers, coriander, garlic, ginger, Ethiopian holy basil (add Batman at the end of that and it sounds like something Robin from the 60s series would say) korarima, rue, ajwain (whatever those three may be), nigella seeds,  fenugreek, cardamon seeds and  horseradish . All that made it sound like it would be pleasantly, rather than lethally, hot.

I  asked (to be on the safe side) and was told by my server that the heat was not too much, just a little (which is always a bit subjective as what they may consider mild could well be full on “Johnny Cash” for the likes of me). As a result, I thought I would give it a go (with a hope of spice rather than incendiary heat).

What arrived (for the £12 price tag) was a monster plate of food, with an oversized plate (sort of sized plate you would put a whole roast with the trimmings on to serve up 4 people) absolutely covered,

with a double base of injera and a hearty meaty mix (the awaze tibsi) and a side salad copiously piled on top. It was easily enough for two people to share, I would say.

No cutlery was provided, with the idea being to use the injera as the method to convey the tibsi to the gob. In effect, you tear off a bit of your injera (ideally with the right hand) and use that to scoop up the meat or veggies and sauce. As you progress and work your way in from the side the injera gets progressively loaded up with whatever sauce mix is on top. You do get a box to napkins, which you will use copious quantities of if I am anything to go by.

The injera is a odd thing to a Westerner, I think, with it looking (rather disconcertingly) a bit like carpet underlay.

Made from teff flour, it is the Ethiopian and Eritrean equivalent of rice or potatoes or pasta and eaten as the carb element for pretty much every meal. It has a spongy texture and, with it being slightly fermented, just a touch of sourness on top of a sort of light nuttiness from the teff. I liked it, with its inate sponginess allowing it to soak up the meat juice and awaze sauce from the tibsi.

The awaze tibsi itself was made up of  small chunks of lamb in a rich gravy, with the spicing having a sort of Texas chilli meets Indian sub continent keema vibe to it.  Nice touch of heat, with fresh green chillis, as well as a distinct backnote of what tasted like horseradish to my palate. Pleasant level of heat, I thought, which was easily within my chilli wuss tolerance levels.

It had a good flavour, with my only slight criticism being a few bits of the lamb (suspect actually hogget) were just a touch on the chewy side.

A nicely crisp and well dressed (if a tad pedestrian) salad,

added a welcome bit of acidity to proceedings.

The portion was huge and whilst I manfully finished off the tibsi I failed with the injera, leaving probably just under half of the two huge pieces I got. Amazingly, they ask me (as I felt like I was about to go full on “wafer thin mint“) if I wanted more injera, to which I (very uncresotely) politely declined

Drinks wise, there is booze,

with a slightly odd mix of beer (Asmara being a Eritrean beer, with Asmara the name of the capital), dish water (aka Heineiken and Budweiser) and whisky.

I was driving and the option were a bit limited, with coke and fanta the only cold  soft drinks available at the time of my visit.

Hot drinks are a bit more expansive,

with the area known for its coffee, but as it was quite hot I defaulted to a coke.

No drinking glass was proffered, but I do like pop in a glass bottle (probably just in my head, but it does seem to taste better out of glass rather than plastic).

The verdict

There is no denying this place is very rustic and about as far as you can get from from high end dining. 

It may be very rustic, but the food is filling, good value and tasty. Better a tatty facade and good food than a fur coat (fascade) and no knickers (food) experience (looking at you, the Ivy and Gaucho) to my mind.

Place has got a 5 star rating hygiene wise too.

https://ratings.food.gov.uk/business/1087400/merhaba-cafe-restaurant-cardiff

which rather belies the tatty exterior. A case of don’t judge a book by its cover.

I have eaten in many places in the Far East that were little more than tin shacks where the food has been excellent, so first impressions can be deceiving.

Notwithstanding the above, I really think a lick of paint and a little (well actually a lot of) TLC applied to the outside wouldn’t go amiss. Really can’t see people (who are not aware of this place) walking passed it (if truth be told it looks really uninviting, to say the least, from the outside) and thinking “Ooh that looks nice doesn’t it, let’s go in” 🤷, which would be a shame as the food is different (in a good way), filling, tasty and ultimately good value for money.

The details

Address: 14 Broadway  Adamstown, Cardiff, CF24 1NF

Website: Can’t find one. But few details here

Merhaba habesha restaurant Cardiff https://share.google/Pg8PryyhCk934c0hw

Opening hours: