Hulbat Halva, Canjeero, and Abish: A Celebration of Strength from Ethiopia’s Eastern Heart

The aroma of caramelized onions, fenugreek, and fermenting dough is unforgettable, reminding me of my grandmother’s kitchen. In that cozy space in Harar, sunlight streamed through lace curtains while copper pots made gentle sounds. Here, three culinary traditions—Harari, Somali, and Oromo—came together, creating a rich history of resilience. This narrative is not just about recipes; it reveals how food protects our culture, expresses love when words fall short, and connects diverse pasts.

Ethiopia’s eastern regions are a mix of contrasts: the historic Islamic city of Harar, known for nightly hyena feeding; the Somali lowlands, where nomadic herders navigate ancient drought paths; and the Oromo farmlands, rich in spices that fill the air with fragrance. Food here is an act of defiance and a cherished tradition. My grandmother, Amina, often said, “They can destroy our homes, but they can never erase the taste of berbere from our memories.”

This is the tale of three dishes—Hulbat Halva, Canjeero, and Abish—that reflect the enduring spirit of these communities. Through hardships like war and famine, they have provided not only nourishment but also a sense of identity.

Chapter 1: Hulbat Halva—The Harari Porridge That Survived Starvation

The Recipe: A Sweet Mix of Tradition

Ingredients (Serves 6):

1 cup roasted barley flour (shela) – A drought-resistant grain vital for survival in Harar.

1 cup roasted wheat flour – Grown in terraced fields, wheat shows plenty.

½ cup honey (or dibs, date syrup) – Honey from Harar’s acacia forests, a protected area.

4 cups water

2 tbsp niter kibbeh (spiced clarified butter) – Essential to Ethiopian cooking, flavored with spices.

1 tsp ground ginger – Reflecting Harar’s rich spice trade history.

1 tsp ground cardamom – Unique Harari korerima variety, more floral than others.

½ tsp ground cloves – Once highly valued in Harar’s historical markets.

Pinch of salt

Chopped walnuts or raisins (optional) – Used as a special treat during celebrations.

Instructions:

Toast the Flours: In a cast-iron skillet, dry-roast barley and wheat flour over low heat for 10 minutes, stirring with a wooden spoon until the smell is like toasted almonds. This process is important; my grandmother believed it awakens the spirit of the grain.

Prepare the Base: Boil the water in a clay pot, then reduce to a simmer. Gradually whisk in the flours, saying “Bismillah” to avoid lumps. The mixture will thicken into a paste, similar to wet sand.

Spice It Up: Add niter kibbeh, ginger, cardamom, cloves, and salt. The porridge will turn golden-brown and fill the air with a smell my aunt calls “the scent of Harar in the rainy season.” Let it simmer for 20 minutes, stirring clockwise—a way to honor the sun’s journey, as Amina would say.

Sweeten: Take off the heat. Mix in honey until the porridge shines like amber. If you like, add walnuts on top. Serve in shared bowls; Hararis believe eating alone limits the soul.

The Story: When Porridge Stood Against Adversity

In 1984, during famine in Ethiopia, my grandmother sold her gold earrings—a wedding gift—for barley. “Gold is cold,” she remarked, “but Hulbat Halva warms generations.” With spices secretly passed during difficult times, she prepared the porridge for her seven children, saying, “This is how we survive.”

Harari culture is at risk today, with fewer than 20,000 speakers. Families have protected their recipes like treasured secrets. During the Italian occupation, women hid shela flour in clever storage, and now those living abroad send berbere spice blends marked simply as “spices” to avoid customs issues. Hulbat Halva is often served during Ashura, a day of remembrance.

Chapter 2: Canjeero—The Somali Flatbread That Spans Borders

The Recipe: Bread of the Nomads

Ingredients (Serves 4):

2 cups fine cornmeal (or sorghum) – Somali nomads choose sorghum for its drought resistance and unique flavor.

1 cup all-purpose flour – A newer ingredient, found at border market stalls.

1 tsp active yeast – Traditionally, wild fermentation from khamir (date palm sap) was used.

2 cups lukewarm water

1 tsp salt

1 lb beef, cubed – Nomads often prefer goat or camel meat.

1 onion, diced

2 tomatoes, chopped

1 tbsp xawaash spice blend (recipe below)

2 tbsp vegetable oil

Homemade Xawaash Blend:

2 tsp cumin – My mother would joke, “We cumin-ate our sorrows.”

1 tsp coriander – Grown in home gardens, even in refugee camps.

1 tsp turmeric – A bright yellow remedy for sadness.

½ tsp black pepper – Sourced from Kaffa, the birthplace of coffee.

½ tsp cinnamon – A legacy of trade between Somalia and Sri Lanka.

¼ tsp cloves – A special spice saved for weddings.

Instructions:

Ferment the Batter: Combine cornmeal, flour, yeast, and salt with water. Let it rest overnight in a hangi (woven palm-leaf container). By morning, the batter will be bubbly, indicating it's ready.

Cook Canjeero: Preheat a tawa (griddle) until water droplets sizzle. Pour the batter in circles to form a lace pattern. According to tradition, the first Canjeero is offered to a guest.

Prepare Suqaar: Sauté onions in oil until golden and soft. Add beef and xawaash, allowing the spices to crackle. Stir in tomatoes and simmer until the stew thickens. Nomads say, “Good suqaar should stick to your ribs, not the pot.”

Serve: Roll Canjeero and dip it into the suqaar. Leftovers can be sun-dried into korkor, a snack for travel.

The Story: Bread Without Borders

In 1991, amid civil war, my Somali aunt Fadumo crossed the Ethiopian border carrying only a baraan (cloth bundle) of Canjeero batter. “Fermentation waits for no war,” she noted. In the refugee camp, she baked on salvaged metal, sharing with Oromo and Harari neighbors. “We all hunger the same,” she remarked.

During the 2020 Tigray conflict, my mother used chickpeas instead of meat in suqaar due to shortages. However, the Canjeero batter, fermented in a repurposed jam jar, remained the same. “The yeast is alive,” she claimed. “Like us.” Today, Somali-Ethiopians in Minneapolis are making Canjeero with quinoa flour, while Toronto food trucks fill it with kimchi, showing its versatility.

Chapter 3: Abish—The Oromo Stew That Grounded Us

The Recipe: Fenugreek’s Embrace

Ingredients (Serves 6):

1 lb beef or goat, cubed – Oromo farmers consider livestock “banks on hooves.”

4 potatoes, quartered – Introduced by 19th-century missionaries, now essential.

1 large onion, chopped

3 tomatoes, pureed – Sun-dried during the gara (dry season) for extra flavor.

2 tbsp

fenugreek powder – Ground from abish seeds, it's bitter but addicting.

1 tsp turmeric – Known as “golden healing” for body and spirit.

4 cups water

Salt to taste

Instructions:

Sauté Aromatics: In a qotee (clay pot), cook onions until they turn sweet. Oromo cooks say, “Patience is the first spice.”

Brown the Meat: Add beef, searing until a crust forms, essential for flavor.

Spice It: Mix in fenugreek and turmeric, cooking until the kitchen smells fresh. Add tomatoes, stirring until the oil separates, signaling it's time to simmer.

Simmer: Add water and potatoes, cooking until the meat is tender. Serve the stew in the qotee on a marga (woven mat) for communal eating.

The Story: Stew as Resistance

My Oromo aunt,fatuma, taught me to find fenugreek near Harar’s Amir Nur shrine. “The land remembers,” she said, crushing seeds. During the Derg regime's land reforms in the 1970s, women hid abish seeds in their braids. “They took our deeds, but not our fenugreek,” she recalled.