One Hour Outta 24 in a Cafe

Now I must confess a bias before I continue with this review, I like Cafe 24. A lot. It is by any standards my favourite watering hole, and the fact that it hosts an interesting menu doesn’t hurt. Rumoured to be owned by one of Obasanjo’s son (Baba is the greatest!! Now gimme a free meal or contract, I see you rolling your eyes, shame has no market value o!!) It is the business model more than anything else that appeals to me. It is the first 24 hour establishment in the city, and it should be emulated, in a city with more cash than sense and discipline (hard to be sensible when your fada is a thief) it is a welcome development.

Plus some of us are in relationships (read: shackles) we need a place to run and soak in alcohol at all times of the day, I asked- Tantrums do not own wristwatches. (Insert Mandatory Just Joking Baby!!!) Listen, the logic works, if ATMs and Debauchery can run at all times of the day, so can alcohol and food- Salamander, Grow up and open late!!! In the full sense of the word, I cannot make this a review as I have been there a hundred dozen times, but the fact that I always go back is reason enough. So I will review my most recent experiences.

It is factual that humans are creatures of habit but when an establishment becomes De Facto, it is also a testament to their strength- or their customers’ lack of taste- whatever the case, Cafe 24 is “my local” and I can be found there every Friday night nursing a green bottle – Sprite boo!!- and No! I will not sign any autographs!!!

Cafe 24 is nestled right next to popular sports bar & club –Play- and opposite the also popular slave master expatriate haven Peniel Apartment in the Wuse ll District of the city. It has undergone a facelift in recent times, comfortable before in the strength of its business idea and plastic chairs and open air, it now wears a thatch roof and is surrounded by a stone finish, almost gives it a quarry feel. It works, simple still distinct.

In the middle of the floor is a raised bar cut in a semi-circle that covers a nice spread, central and focal, the location of the bar is the first handshake of Cafe 24 and it is a strong one. There is a close air-conditioned room for the faint of heart who don’t want to be one with nature; the menu is simple, two choices of Continental, Chinese and the obligatory Side Dishes. Their menu for drinks & cocktails is another story, with the standard Sex on the Beach , it isn’t a stretch to see Flaming Orgasm or Slippery Nipple- true story. Next they will hit us with Discounted Contraceptive, or Sexually Repressed Bartender, what? I am just saying!!

Walking into the Cafe that Friday I was more familiar with their sandwiches – they make a killer Salami Sandwich- & their more adventurously named dishes (Chicken Hurricane) than the new “professional” menu. Apparently there is a craze for Chinese these days ‘cos they are everywhere, no, not the Chinese, the restaurants, well the Chinese are everywhere but-back to the story at hand. I sat down in my comfortable straw chair, to the news that Hosni Mubarak had made like his ancestors and let his people go, to celebrate I ordered One – please note the number- Green Bottle, sweating, Ice Cold. I then proceeded to ask Vero- Yes I have assigned her the name- for the menu, when she brought it over I asked for Chicken of Cream Soup, and for my main Course Diced Chicken with Cashew nuts. And waited. And Waited some more.

Now, a place, anywhere, is as interesting as the people that are in it, while I waited for what I am certain was an eternity, I observed several things, for one all the people that emerged from the air-conditioned room-  and they were all women by the way- had blackberries and wore revealing Maxi Dresses, and walked with the air of someone who would invent a way to defy gravity and float if she were smart enough. Secondly, Rich Men talk a lot of sewage. I know, because I am not rich.

A group of men walked in, they all appeared to be well over middle-age but with signs that their arthritic fingers were still holding on to youth, and they belonged to a group of men who believe they can substitute personality with currency- don’t blame them- it works. The waitress walked over to the table to collect their orders, one of our hip geriatrics asks

Geriatric One: “Ahn Ahn Fine Girl, are you from Benue, You are so Pretty”

Fine Benue Girl: “Good Evening Sir, Can I take your order”

Geriatric One: “You won’t answer me, Are you from Benue, Benue Girls are fine”

Fine Benue Girl: “It doesn’t matter sir, I would like to take your order”

Geriatric Two: “Geriatric One, don’t mind her she doesn’t have manners, Fine Benue Girl you can go, I won’t play with you again, do you know who I am?”.

I repeat “I won’t play with you”!!! In this age and time, who says that, honestly? All this while, my meal hadn’t arrived, I am convinced now that Cafe 24 has a trap door which chef’s can use to escape when they have forgotten an important ingredient, because s/he, it must have jumped through the trap door, surfaced on the other side, hopped a cab, drove to a farm, pointed to a chicken and bought it, came back, slaughtered it and then began to cook. True Story.

The Un-cut version of The Old & Senseless continued to play itself out beside me, luckily my soup arrived. As Vero brought the soup to me, my spidey senses went off, the bowl was notably smaller than what I am used to. Ah well, don’t judge a bowl by its size but the contents of its character. Sigh, there is something amiss between Abuja Chefs and Cream of anything soup, yes there was chicken, yes it was the right colour, but not the right density. Cream means thick, I want the soup so thick I can stretch it against my spoon and use as a catapult against Geriatric No 2, still- Who says I won’t Play with you!!! No catapult for me, but it scalded my mouth- which is good- was the right temperature, and hit all the right places, like a fine tune instrument, revealing itself with subtle hints of all its ingredients. But no weight, when it comes to soup I want it thick like Serena!! Shout to Piccolo Mondo In Lagos!!

While I savoured my soup, the Geriatrics had a visitor, Nikki Nike Minaj, she had what appeared to be botox in her lips or flapjacks for lips, and her eyes constantly channelled lost or confused, and if that’s not the case then let’s just say she is always aware. The Geriatrics didn’t mind, matter of fact one of them declared his intentions, loudly announcing and displaying Two Hundred American Dollars, my eyes caught the dollars, hers caught mine, don’t know if she sneered or smiled, too much going on with her face. How does someone manage to look scared and alert at the same time?

Luckily as the episode of Benny Hill played out, my main course arrived. Now scroll up and see what I had ordered. Now that you have scrolled down, you remember when I said the chef had a trapdoor for ingredients he had forgotten and such, well he forgot the cashew nuts and thought it was fine to make up for it with another type of nut. Yes, you guessed it, Peanuts, Groundnuts, Ekpa!!! In my diced chicken meal. Sigh. The entire enterprise was defeated by just that one simple act of vapid abandon, the structural equivalent of having completed a building only to find out it has no stairwells, then stringing rope from the roof for people to use for ascension. It is criminal.

I ordered my second (2) green bottle which Priscilla- the Fine Girl from Benue served- Yes her name is actually Priscilla, Vero had forgotten to bring a straw for my main course. Straw? Yes straw, as she forgot to serve my meal with rice as ordered, I only imagine her and her chef had intended me to drink the ground-nutted-diced-chicken. When she gets my order right I will find out her real name. At this point I simply crossed my legs in my pristine starched blue traditional wear. As a bad guys is concerned.

I don’t know what I was waiting for, but then it happened, he swooped in without his cape to save my meal, he being Elijah one of the more reliable waiters there, just starting his shift and noticing the despair on my face, he came in and remedied my meal. But the nuts were still there, the Geriatrics were still chattering and Nike Minaj was still side-eyeing me, well I can’t be sure, she probably cannot control the muscles in her eyes. I battled on.

The design of my meal was botched, but it did taste good, an almost citric taste to the diced bits, once you could shuffle the nuts to stay out of the way in your mouth and the plate, the spices and tastes of the meal began to come out of their hiding places. Like a smile from a shy girl, it wasn’t immediate, a gradual settling & agreement between your palate and what the chef intended- then you tasted the nuts. Sigh. A good experience if not the intended one. I finished the meal and began to walk out, N4500 short for the enterprise.

On my way out I walked past a Nana-Who-Doesn’t-Know-Her-Name (Rihanna) lookalike, apparently she was a friend of Nike Minaj, who mind you was still looking at me, in my mind I thought “O je Gba Dollar” (Insert Translation: You are better off acquiring dollar from the Geriatrics) . I walked out and watched them watch me walk, with a full belly, heavily starched attire, and all the waiters knowing my name- they must have thought I was a big shot. Perception only Cost N4500. Sweet!!

Cafe 24 is Located on Adetokunbo Ademola Crescent, Wuse II
Opp Penniel Apartments
Abuja

Sidenote: Elijah and Priscilla happen to be the best waiters at the Cafe and should you venture to the Cafe 24 ask for them, if your service needs to be better than what you are presented with. I will be staging a campaign to re-induct the Chicken Hurricane into the menu, if you agree please show up every Friday with a full wallet as I will drive the human end and you can pay. I will be the one with the green bottle, feeling like a big shot. Thanks.