When dinner begins with the person sitting across the table from you offering up a pocket-size bottle of hand sanitizer and then insisting you use it, you can be sure you are in for an interesting meal indeed.

At first, I was offended by what I considered a very germaphobic demand -- especially when he handed the bottle to my boyfriend after I had finished. Then, I remembered that Addis Abeba, like many Ethiopian restaurants, adheres to a communal style of eating (up to four people share the same plate and eat with their hands). I was at once grateful that obsessive cleanliness was being encouraged and made sure the bottle was passed to the other six people at the table.

No matter how often you frequent Addis Abeba, ordering is always a bit of a challenge. The only part of the menu that isn't complicated is the list of appetizers, which is comprised of only three items. The entrees are so filling that I would usually advise skipping this first course. However, it was close to 9 p.m. and we were all starving, so we ordered a round of sambusa for the table along with a carafe of white wine. The sambusa -- lentils, onions, and jalapenos surrounded by a warm, flaky pouch that looked identical to a samosa -- was a decent beginning to our meal.

With the appetizers out of the way, we set about ordering dinner -- not an easy task, by any means. Addis Abeba's menu is divided into vegetarian entrees and fish/meat entrees, or you can choose from a variety of veggie-meat combos, fish-meat combos, veggie-veggie combos, etc. These combinations are definitely the best value as they allow you to choose (up to) any three dishes on the entire menu, but they require the most thought process since everything looks so good.

If you are one of those people who tends to freak out when your mashed potatoes and gravy accidentally mixes in with your peas or if you have used one of those plates with the dividers in the last year, I would suggest not reading past this point. All of the entrees are served on the same gigantic platter with the juices from each dish running into each other. The server points to where your entree(s) are located and you reach across the table to the basket of injera (flat, spongy bread that looks and tastes like a pancake), rip off a huge piece, and dig right in. The injera acts as a sort of utensil to scoop up the veggies and meat and often you will bump hands with your neighbors as they move in for the next bite. The whole process is incredibly messy and gloriously delicious.

Since there were so many people at dinner that evening, I had the privilege of sampling a lot of food. The vegetarian inquodai was a mushy blend of sautéed mushrooms and yellow split peas; I thought it to be a bit mild at first, but I found myself returning to it as well as the gomen -- spinach cooked with onions and garlic -- again and again as a welcome break from the other spicy options on the plate. The doro wot was a stew of chicken, garlic, and cloves simmered in a red pepper sauce with honey wine, cinnamon, and cardamom; the fiery fumes of the garlic and red pepper rode shotgun with the sweet cinnamon and clove flavors. I wasn't that enthralled by the lone drumstick hiding in the stew -- eating it without any sort of utensils proved to be difficult.

I had ordered the doro tibs, a tasty dish that attracted quite a bit of attention at my table --cubes of chicken breast and onions stir fried in a spicy jalapeno and garlic sauce; it was the first part of the platter to be wiped clean. The most popular entree by far was the shish kebobs. I realize kebobs aren't the most exotic of options, but these definitely deserve some mention. Tender chunks of beef or chicken are marinated in oregano and white wine, grilled, and then served over a couscous-like mixture -- nothing all that original, but the peppery yogurt drizzled on top is worthy of serious raving.

Addis Abeba is a great place for a celebration or a special occasion in the sense that it can accommodate large groups of people and the communal feast makes for quite an entertaining experience. However, this forced interaction could make dining with people you don't know well somewhat uncomfortable. In our case, the situation worked out well even though we were meeting some of the people at our table for the first time: By the end of the meal (long after we had dealt with the hygiene issue), we were laughing with our new friends and even trying each other's meals. But I can imagine a worst-case scenario in which you would have to endure watching people who repulse and annoy you dip their bare hands again and again and again into your food, scooping up that which is rightfully yours -- not a pretty sight, I bet.

Also, if quick service and an attentive staff are your top priorities, I would make reservations somewhere else. But if you're ready to roll up your sleeves, dive into a platter full of delectable meats and veggies simmered in fragrant spices, and wash it all down with a swallow of honey wine, Addis Abeba is your place. Just be sure to wash your hands.

Addis Abeba is located at 3521 N. Clark St. Entree prices range from $8-$12.50.