There’s a New Ethiopian Dinner Party in the Blue Mountains – and You’re Invited

“Welcome everyone from near and far,” Tinsae Elsdon says, smiling broadly. “Nearly 10 years ago I had this crazy idea to bring people together in my home and here we are.”

The cook is standing at the head of a long dinner table in a dedicated dining space in her lower Blue Mountains home. Behind her in the kitchen, plates are lined up like any professional operation, and pots are bubbling away on the enormous stove. There are 16 of us – some local, some from the city – waiting with anticipation for an Ethiopian feast, rock-sugar-rimmed glasses of birz (a delicately tart, fermented honey drink) in our hands.

Over the years Elsdon has run her chef’s table, Dinner With Tinsae, on and off. But this time she’s back in earnest, inviting guests every month. She’s been preparing all week, sourcing produce from local farms and markets, making crumbly ayib cheese, clarifying butter and slow-cooking the doro wat (chicken stew).

“I have a passion to share my culture and I’ve been really inspired by how Sydney has embraced food from all over the world,” she says.

Dinner is served in courses, each reflecting Elsdon’s memories of growing up. Supported by her husband, daughter and best friend, the meal starts with her mum’s favourite: timatim salata, a bright tomato salad with pickled red onions and herb-laced vinaigrette. Next is a prettily plated rendition of shiro, a silky chickpea stew that’s spooned between discs of injera, a spongy, fermented flatbread that’s the staple of almost every Ethiopian meal.

The presentation is more fine-dining than rustic – evidence of Elsdon’s interest in experimentation. “I respect how I learned to cook, but I’m also open. I want to mix what I know with what I’ve learned in Australia.”

The main course is a shared feast. No cutlery – we eat with our hands. Tearing pieces from the injera and scooping up vegetable stew, tender chicken infused in deep red berbere spice mix, and lamb chops. Before we dig in, helpers make their way around the table with a silver urn and teapot of water, so we can wash our hands.

Two days later I’m sitting at Elsdon’s dining table sharing a pot of black tea infused with cardamom and cloves, which she crushes in her hands.

“In Ethiopia, all girls are taught to cook. My favourite part was going to the big, open-air market to buy produce. I remember filling our basket, buying teff grains and the ingredients to make berbere, a spice mix. It takes a whole week to make five kilos and everyone comes to help. Everything is made from scratch.”

At the dinner party, Elsdon brings around a bowl of coffee beans for us to smell before serving diminutive cups of the most delicious, smooth coffee. We’re each given a sprig of tena’adam (or rue) to swish in our coffee to release its sweet-citrus-bitter flavour into the brew. Spending time with Elsdon is full of lovely rituals that elevate the everyday, like the hand-washing and the spiced tea.

Since relaunching Dinner With Tinsae, Elsdon’s head is filled with plans. If she needed a sign – other than multiple nights with a packed room – she got one recently.

“I was buying my dining chairs from a woman on Marketplace and she had tena’adam growing outside. I’d been struggling to make it grow here and she gave me a bunch. She was from South America and she said in her culture, if the seed pods have five points rather than four, it’s good luck. I looked down at the seeds she gave me and there were five.”

Dinner With Tinsae
Near Springwood, exact address shared once booked
Check social media for the next monthly dinner.

tinsae.com.au
@dinnerwithtinsae