Having been voted, "The Boy Most Likely To Play With His Food" in college, I
wasn't bummed out to find no utensils on any of the dozen or so tables. I was in my
element, and I was hungry, and I had a cold. This led to my ordering tea, which comes
steeped in "spicy water." First, no forks, then "spicy water" tea--things were off to a
mysteriously exotic start. The tea was nice, but unless you're nursing a cold, I
recommend you go to town and paint it red:

The most rewarding flavor in this man's world for people who are chowing
down--Ngoma is the one beer to have--unless you'd prefer a Mamba.

 Massawa also serves an Ethiopian honey wine called Orit-Tej. It's the
only sweet flavor on the menu-East African cuisine is either spicy
or sour or both. Don't panic over what to order. It's deceptively easy.
Take appetizers for instance: There's only two to choose from and
their both the same--that is they're both Sambusas. One is a wheat
flour fritter stuffed with meat ($2.25), the other one they stuff with
vegetables ($2.00). After one bite, you'll be discussing how to
package these things for your grocer's freezer. Spicy enough to
chase a cold, crunchy and chewy enough to bring a smile.

And if this is your first East African eating experience, you will be
in for a few more smiles before the wet nap is offered to tidy them
up. One smile comes from imagining the dishes known as Kitfo,
Kewa, Derho and Zighni. These are four of the seven meat choices
which include lamb, beef, chicken, and fish ($7.75--9.75). There
are seven vegetarian selections as well, starting at $6.50.

All entrees come with Injera, a flat round bread which serves
as your spongy spoon; Schiro, a tasty lentil stew; and a
salad with a remarkable Italian dressing. (Spaghetti and meat
sauce also mysteriously landed on the menu FOB Italy). The
real smile comes from seeing the printed words on your menu
translated into the food on your plate. My companion,
Citizen James, liked the way Alitcha sounded, with cubes
of lamb and a variety of spices. Ronald Reagan himself
doesn't have enough fantasy world at his grasp to
imagine how our dishes came served: They were lying side
by side on a two foot diameter tray, artistically spread out over
spongy Injera bread, tactically placed there to sop up the stew. 

We were both issued Injera breads of our own and the games
began. Playing with my food and eating with my hands are satisfying
on their own merits, but when it's sanctioned by old world customs
and encouraged by restaurateurs, the behavior lifts me up with
a feeling of vindication and righteousness. How many meals this
week gave you that as a door prize? And the taste?  Let me quote
Campbell's, "MMMMMM GOOD."

The mysterious combination of flavors renders my vocabulary almost useless,
but I can tell you that my little taste buddies were doing a jig.  Let me try anyway:
Is it possible to say: Addictively Savory, to convey a sensation of exotic delight? I
also liked maneuvering around the platter with my injera, scooping up different
treats for each biteful: Meat, lentils, salad, stew.

Oh, yeah, about dessert: On your way to Ben and Jerry's (Massawa doesn't
serve desserts), consider the expansive nature of spongy bread as it sits in your
belly doing the Bounty challenge and running away with the absorption blue ribbon.
Unlike the proverbial effects of Chinese food, you're still pretty full after an hour.
So feel free to redistribute your dessert fund into your travel kitty, or hustle back
and get some Sambusas to stick in the fridge for later. Your little taste buddies
will be doing the hustle too.