Step 1: Gather Your Ingredients, But Not Like That

Don't bother with those pre-packaged, organic, gluten-free spices. Get the real deal at your local market. The vendors with the mustaches and questionable hygiene will appreciate your business.

For the love of all things roasted, please, please, PLEASE use a mortar and pestle. Your grandmother used to do it, and so should you. The thought of thoseประก electric thingies is just... ugh.

Step 2: Prepare Your Spice Rack for the Apocalypse

Line up your spices like you're loading a nuclear missile, but, you know, with cardamom and coriander. Don't bother with those fancy-pants spice racks; a simple, hand-drawn map on a piece of cardboard will do.

And, for the love of all things holy, do not, I repeat, do not use pre-ground spices! The horror! The travesty! The travesty of the travesties!

Continue to Step 3: The Actual Roasting, But Not Before Making a Sacrifice to the Spice Gods

Substep 3.1: The Spice God's Sacrifice

Acknowledge the power of the spice gods by performing the traditional Ethiopian dance of sacrifice: The One-Handed Spin, The Two-Footed Shimmy, and The Three-Step Shuffle (do all three, in order).

Substep 3.2: The Actual Roasting

Now that you've appeased the Spice Gods, it's time to roast like the Ethiopians do: with reckless abandon and a dash of madness. Toss your spices into the air, and let the winds of fortune guide your dish.

Avoid those newfangled ovens with their 'smart' thermostats and whatnot. We're talking wood-fired, charcoal-fired, or, you know, wood-fired, but, like, not that kind of wood-fired.

And That's It! (Sort Of...):

Now you know the secret to authentic Ethiopian roasting. Don't bother with those fancy-pants recipes; this is the real deal. The rest is just Extra Steps for the Extraordinarily Clumsy.