3 Ethiopian restaurants that are spicing up the Twin Cities area

No Ethiopian meal is truly complete without injera, a springy, sourdough-like flatbread as big as a vinyl record but floppy, like a thick crêpe.

Once it's stretched out on a plate, stewed meats and vegetables, shaped into mounds no bigger than the palm of your hand, are arranged on top — almost like a pinwheel. Smaller injeras, tightly wound like towels, are provided, too. Unfurl one. Tear off a piece and pick a mound, then pinch.

Where to start doesn't matter. Especially when the tibs, kitfos and wots (sautéed meats, beef tartare and stews) are so forthrightly flavored yet well-balanced as they are at two of my favorite Ethiopian restaurants, Bolé Ethiopian Cuisine and Adama Restaurant. Both hew closely to what I'm told — and convinced — is traditional, but each charts its own path.

Adama's path is all about pronounced textures and flavors, more so than at other Ethiopian establishments. An example: meats that don't yield as much as they do elsewhere, yet resonate so deeply with spices that I'm convinced it simmered for days.

During my most recent visit to the Columbia Heights restaurant, the drumstick in doro wot, a chicken stew, held its appealing chew even as the oils, red from chile and paprika-forward berbere, soaked right to the bone. Tibs, often a stir-fry of rubbery, thumb-sized nibs of beef, peppers and plenty of spices, were elegantly prepared drier than its traditional preparation — each tib was sealed with char — and redolent of rosemary. And I could taste the venison promised in alicha wot, a warm, spiced curry made with the game animal.

Adama's chef-owners, brothers Teshite and Miesso Wako, are not shy about acidity. It explains why their gomen, or collard greens, has an unexpected bite, vibrating with so much bitterness that it puckered my lips whenever I took a bite. No matter — especially when background notes of cardamom, cumin and cayenne fade in. So does the atakilt wot, a spiced cabbage not unlike sauerkraut.

I marveled more at Adama's beets, not just because they were diced more finely than a typical key sir, but because of how fragrant (from mustard seeds, fenugreek and lemon) and indulgent it was: like creamed corn, only brighter.

In fact, I found myself taking swipes of the beet without injera — a real crime. Especially if you believe that Adama's flatbread is the finest in town. Distinct, for certain: a lemony sourness that persists; thinner and paler than mostly everything else I tried. Tellingly, the taste is the mark of teff, a type of cereal grain that's found only in Ethiopia and Eritrea.

Teff is also distinct in the injeras at Bolé. They are slightly thicker than that of Adama's, with a sepia hue, the color of desert sand at dusk. It's just as pliable, but less sour.

That's very on-brand with the approach that the chef and co-owner, Rekik Abineh, takes with her food. The sourness of her wots is contoured. Spices are mellowed. Meats surrender.

"I'm generous with my food," Abineh said. "There is more butter and more garlic than what I'd write in our recipes."

Suspicion confirmed — and welcomed. Her yellow lentils have a puddinglike consistency. Collard greens are cooked with the richness of creamed spinach in mind. Cabbage is stewed in voracious amounts of butter. The texture of miser wot, or red lentils, held court in a wildly flavorful stew, with a heat that builds; and the green beans, or fasolia, is likely the best in town.

Abineh's generous-minded philosophy toward cooking is emblematic of the atmosphere she and her husband and co-owner, Solomon Hailie, sought to rebuild after George Floyd protesters set their St. Paul Midway building on fire two summers ago. At its new, larger location near Como Park, the couple are determined to turn what used to be a burger joint into a destination where locals will fall in love with her brand of Ethiopian cooking. You will, too.

Adama Restaurant, 3970 Central Av. NE., Columbia Heights, 763-789-4485, adama-restaurant.business.site. Open 11 a.m.-11 p.m. daily.

Bole Ethiopian Cuisine, 1341 N. Pascal St., St. Paul, 651-330-2492, boleethiopiancuisine.com. Open 10 a.m.-10 p.m. Tue.-Sun.

Fifteen years, ago, Selam opened as a coffee shop to great fanfare. The Ethiopian coffees were a hit. But Belai Mergin still harbored dreams to one day build her own restaurant. So when the pandemic shuttered restaurants, she and husband Rahel Tassew, a co-owner, decided it was time.

The south Minneapolis coffee shop closed for some 15 months — ample time for the couple to wait out the pandemic and make a few design upgrades or two: a new counter, a bigger kitchen and design cues with colorful Ethiopian gestures. It reopened last year.

Selam's platters are beautifully presented. Instead of placing them in concentric circles, Mergin separates her stews into small ramekins, brimming with the familiar staples. Yellow lentils hum with turmeric. Doro wot sings with berbere; a thick layer of oil that pools on top will stain your fingers red — don't fight it. The tibs are a little chewy but pair well with a homemade green chile dip as vibrant as pesto that Mergin insisted we try. "Spicy!" came her warning — also cloaked as a dare. Beware. It will bring out whimpers even among the most seasoned spice hounds.

A fair assessment would be to categorize Selam as a restaurant that you will struggle to find fault with. Their injera is the least "sour" out of many I've tried — it's tame (and springy) enough to pair with universally everything. I squirreled what I could into a takeout container, and I'll be back for more.

Selam Restaurant, 3860 Minnehaha Av. S., Mpls., 612-367-4288, selamrestaurantmn.com. Open 11 a.m.-9 p.m. Mon., Wed., Thu., 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Fri.-Sun.