Best meal to split on a date: Das’ Beef Zilzil Tibs (The Hatchet)

There’s nothing more intimate than splitting an entrée — and Ethiopian food is the ultimate shareable. Das Ethiopian Cuisine sits at the intersection of 28th and M streets, across from the Four Seasons Hotel in Georgetown. The restaurant is housed in a classic, cream-painted brick townhouse, its white-trimmed windows glowing with the soft flicker of candlelight on the tables.

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My date and I set out to share the Beef Zilzil Tibs, a house special at Das. Tibs is a traditional Ethiopian dish, consisting of lean strips of beef or lamb sautéed in butter, garlic and onion, sometimes seasoned with a berbere blend of up to 16 spices like paprika, ginger and coriander.

My date and I arrived at 8:00 p.m. on a Friday, when the restaurant was buzzing with conversation and laughter. The dining room was small, intimate and dimly lit, with white curtains draping the window and woven chandeliers hung overhead. We opted for indoor seating in the main dining room, but there were seating options upstairs and on the patio for a more secluded dining experience.

Like most Ethiopian dishes, tibs are meant to be eaten with injera, a spongy Ethiopian flatbread made from fermented teff flour, which gives the bread a subtly sour, tangy flavor similar to sourdough.

After 20 minutes of anticipation, our waitress brought a bowl of sizzling beef tibs to our table and proceeded to pour it over the injera in front of us. Just make sure to ration your injera as you scoop up the tibs, as each additional roll costs extra at Das.

The Beef Zilzil Tibs came with two complementary sides: Shiro Wat, a creamy and tomato-based chickpea stew, and Misir Wat, a red lentil stew with a hint of heat from paprika and chili peppers that leaves a tingling sensation on your lips — like the kiss that you and your date may share by the end of the night.

The tibs were well-caramelized yet tender. The charred edges of the beef strips added a hint of smokiness that complemented the berbere spice blend, which added just the right amount of heat. Each bite melted in our mouths, with the butteriness of the beef contrasting with the tang of the injera.

Once you finish the plate, you’re left with the best part of the meal — the spongy injera bread underneath the tibs that has soaked up every last drop of garlicky and smoky butter. Be prepared for sparks to fly as you and your date accidentally brush hands when you both reach for the last piece of the injera.