When I was a kid, I lost many things. It is part of being a kid. But one thing that I did not lose was my teacup. No ifs or buts, if it was the morning, I was most certainly with it.

As the elder, it was my sister’s duty to buy bread from a bakery and prepare tea. My responsibility was to rise and shine before breakfast was served – what awaited me was nothing sophisticated but tea with bread. If she went on without my being there, she was asking for trouble, as that automatically sent me through the roof. I would be throwing at her whatever was at my disposal, sometimes my teacup.

This was why soon after she finished the preparations in the morning, I had to be ready. Tearing into the bread, I smelled warmth and freshness. To my delight, back then, a 10th of a Birr would buy five pieces of bread. Still, it was never enough, especially as I was used to dipping the bread in the tea, which goes on to make it easier to consume a lot.

Waiting until the tea cools off, the sound of crust being chewed under the tenderness of the inside continues. Then the bread would be moistened with the tea so that it gets malleable. It was pure joy for me but hassle for whoever ends up cleaning the glass.

Indeed, bread dipped in tea is a particular invention in Ethiopia for breakfast, especially in lower-income households. It is a fascinating exercise in the simple mixing of food items that were absolutely delicious, as far as I was concerned.

But the tradition in Ethiopian food runs the gamut from the simple, like bread with tea, to the sophisticated. Children usually enjoy the bread with tea. With adults, a simple but highly prized Ethiopian meal would involve eating raw meat with awaze, a chili pepper blend. Many would also find that tibs, sautéed meat with spices and some vegetables, is one of the relatively easy traditional meals to make. It is a mainstay at any bachelor’s house.