By Williamena Kwapo | OBSERVER Staff Writer

Sheba Farm looks no different than any other field in the Sacramento region, but what grows here is unlike the corn, rice, and wheat that typically dominate California agriculture. The stalks look delicate and fragile, but the grain inside them is strong enough to have fed people for thousands of years.

It is called teff. It’s the tiniest grain in the world and the base of Ethiopia’s national bread, injera, the spongy, crepe-like flatbread that anchors every meal. And now, thanks to one woman’s persistence, teff has become part of California’s agricultural landscape.

“The ultimate goal is really to have teff become a household grain in the rest of the world” says Zion Taddese.

For Taddese, the owner of Sheba Farm, teff is more than a crop. It is memory, identity, and sustenance. An Ethiopian immigrant, she also owns Queen Sheba, the well-loved Ethiopian restaurant in Sacramento where injera arrives with every order. For years she served that bread by importing the teff flour. But she dreamed of planting the grain herself, cultivating it in the same soil where other California’s agricultural plants take root.

Zion Taddese sifts through teff at the Queen Sheba Ethiopian Cuisine restaurant in Sacramento, Sep. 22, 2025. Louis Bryant III, OBSERVER
Zion Taddese sifts through teff at the Queen Sheba Ethiopian Cuisine restaurant in Sacramento, Sep. 22, 2025. Louis Bryant III, OBSERVER

Until 2015, the Ethiopian government banned the export of raw teff grain, fearful that foreign demand would make injera unaffordable for its citizens. Only processed flour and bread were allowed to leave the country. Teff was considered a national treasure, guarded as closely as coffee once was in the country.

After the ban was lifted, Taddese took on the challenge of securing the right to grow teff in the U.S., a process that meant years of paperwork, negotiations, and waiting. From the moment she conceived of growing teff in Sacramento, it would take five years of persistence and collaboration to make it real.

At first, she searched for land, farmers, and researchers who could help her understand whether the tiny Ethiopian grain could withstand the Sacramento Valley’s heat and long summer days. That search eventually led her to UC Davis, where plant scientists were beginning to study teff as both a forage and food crop. Together, they designed trials to test how the grain performed in California’s conditions. Eventually, she received a license to cultivate the grain outside Ethiopia.

A traditional Ethiopian meal, vegan, fresh and ready to eat with injera, at Queen Sheba Ethiopian Cuisine in Sacramento. Louis Bryant III, OBSERVER
A traditional Ethiopian meal, vegan, fresh and ready to eat with injera, at Queen Sheba Ethiopian Cuisine in Sacramento. Louis Bryant III, OBSERVER

“We’re really creating a win-win situation with teff,” Taddese explains. “The farmers are going to benefit. The people are going to benefit from having an amazing grain like teff that’s full of nutrition, high in fiber, and high in protein.”

With that approval in hand and support from UC Davis researchers, Sheba Farm was born.

When properly cultivated, the grain has high market value in the U.S. Research shows teff to be a nutritional powerhouse: naturally gluten-free, rich in iron, high in protein, and boasting more calcium per serving than milk. In Ethiopia, teff accounts for two thirds of the nation’s daily protein intake. In the U.S., its profile is rising as more people turn toward gluten-free diets and ancient grains. Teff researchers estimate global demand is expanding each year, with U.S. sales projected to climb more than 12% by 2027.

Teff can be eaten in its grain form like rice or quinoa, or ground into flour. Though most commonly used for injera, teff flour can replace wheat in nearly any baked good. “You can make not only injera,” says a smiling Taddese. “You can make pancakes, bread, pasta, pizza — anything that uses wheat flour.”

Zion Taddese says she wants teff to become a household grain worldwide. Louis Bryant III, OBSERVER
Zion Taddese says she wants teff to become a household grain worldwide. Louis Bryant III, OBSERVER

For Taddese, every challenge faced in bringing teff to California has been worth it.

On a recent morning, she walked between the rows of teff at Sheba Farm, tending to the stalks now planted. This, she explains, is about more than agriculture or financial gain. It is about bringing a piece of Ethiopia to the rest of the world, especially to Sacramento, the community she now calls home, and paying homage to the grain that has sustained generations back home.

“You know in the Bible, they say if you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can move mountains,” Taddese reflects. “I say this is the smallest grain. So if you have the faith of a teff grain, you can move mountains. And that’s what I’m doing.”