Three Guys, A Girl and an English Plate

Wayne Rooney was promptly displaced and the possession swung back Arsenals way, Wilshere who had won back possession for the Gunners was quick to find the nimble feet of Samir Nasri who in turn fluidly laid the ball for the Flying Dutchman Van Persie- this is the Arsenal Way of course. One deft movement of the ball to the left and Robin was about to strike and presumably curve the ball to the top left corner, which would have left his compatriot Van der Sar flatfooted when he was fouled by the non-descript John O’shea, just outside the eighteen.

Free kick in Dutch territory, all travelling Arsenal fans were on their feet as was the Gallic arrogant Manager Wenger, this was the moment of truth, a singular moment of brilliance could be all that stood between them and a return to winning ways, his teammates huddled in the box and sweat drenching his jersey, the referee blew and...........my phone rang waking me up from what I imagined would have been a better ending to Arsenals botched FA Cup Quarter-Final against Manchester United the night before.

For a moment there I am pretty sure some of you would have checked the web address to reconfirm the right address, but to truly experience a restaurant with me is to experience everything leading to it, and being a despondent Gunners fan is one of them. The phone rang and my good friend and banker extraordinaire Seun Williams (yes I am hyping him, and as you read more you will understand why) called, and wondered if I was up for breakfast at Salamander Cafe before he dashed to the airport.

Never one to pass a good meal, I was up to it and with that I was out of bed to go through the morning ablutions and get myself ready. You see not being a man of means or material things, you see I am a Buddhist- somewhere over the hills my prayer-warrior mother spidey senses just went off, I expect my phone to ring in 5...4...3..2..1... hmmm strange- just kidding I am a Bible- Believing, God-Fearing, Gun-Rights Christian, I am Sarah Palin.

Ok, more seriously, the point I was trying to make is, I have unflinching faith in the power of friendship and camaraderie and I have been rewarded, quite undeservedly with a rich crop of friends (and I mean that in all versions of that word) , who enter and see the world differently, some who are (Inhale)  tall, short, fair, dark, bald, balding, hairy, Igbo, foreign, Yoruba, Hausa, Middlebelters, South-South, Confused.  Those that believe in God, those that believe in Capitalism, others the Universe or Darwin.(Exhale). I have good friends.

The lads got to the Cafe before me, and were kind enough to inform me that it had changed location, seeing as we were also working with a schedule, they called ahead to ask what I would like. I have always enjoyed Salamander and I do not go there quite as often as I would like, it was on the experience of my last visit that I ordered the Spinach Omelette. I remember it being a revelation and was quite taken with it, lacking the clear sense of their menu and not having the presence of mind to ask for the contents, I was comfortable with my choice.

I arrived at the new Salamander Cafe in Wuse ll, conveniently not too far from their previous abode, and it would seem the calls in my previous post for Salamander to grow up were heeded, and while I continue to give myself false praise, it should take nothing from the exquisite decor and calming pull of the new location.

Noting the room for improvement on its origin, the cafe has sprawled into something chic, modern and glossy. It is quite the bohemia for artsy & pretentious type, Salamander has always fancied itself as sort of a cultural Mecca in the capital. It features a book store, well as far as book stores go; it has a healthy number of shelves and does manage to display current and engaging books. Expect also to see a guitarist on some nights strumming away on his strings, eyes closed, apparently oblivious to a world that he fails to realise is also oblivious to him, but hey- man must chop.

The new cafe has made good use of its space, and it’s commendable that they have acquired a bigger location, the floor design immediately makes you feel that the room is larger than it is, the choice of colours for the rooms also gives the feel that it repels sunlight, so you feel that you are caught in place of perpetual shade, a nirvana of sorts.

The Lads and lady had sequestered themselves in the closed off glassed compartment of the cafe, and it made it more intimate. Our crowd seemed to have mellowed out; previous nights we were involved in heated debates about the Decline of the Nigerian Film Industry and the Charade of Modern Marriage in the 21^st century. But this morning I sensed no one cared about what part of America Jim Iyke’s accent is meant to be from or what sackcloth Omotola wore to the Grammys, or what our mothers had to say about our advancing age and our marital status. We all just wanted to eat.

While we all waited on the food, and ordered our accompanying drinks, lattes, Orange Juices, Black Coffee,- yes this lot, can like to form. The conversation quickly drifted to ventures, current projects and the immediate future, as is often the case with young adults; we all rued how hard the country was while we all nursed over-priced cocktails and high priced digital gadgets, the Irony never sets in with us.

Our meals eventually arrived; mine was served last, so it didn’t arrive till well after the others, which gave me enough time to observe and inspect everyone else’s meal. My friend and Film maker extraordinaire Ishaya Bako had ordered the full English breakfast and I immediately became the Cain to his Abel and if could have found a hard enough object I would have smacked him upside the head with it. His meal was complete with, Toasted Bread, Bacon, Baked Beans and Eggs, it looked resplendent like the King’s Speech, Seun had a sandwich, and our accompanying lady Friend Bimpe was content with orange juice.

My meal eventually arrived and it was an afterthought, I was already in the process of thieving several key areas of Ishaya’s meal, I felt like a “coalition jet strategically picking off Libyan forces”. I am sure had I concentrated I would have enjoyed my meal and remembered it with the same fondness, had I not been obsessed with Mr. Bako’s food- in retrospect there was nothing on his plate or mine that anyone of us couldn’t easily have made on our own, but then how would you know we were hip and uber cool if we couldn’t pay for services we could just have easily rendered ourselves and then act like it is our right and unfair all at the same time. Ah, the sweet smell of capitalism.

Speaking of capitalism, while I consumed all of my meal, large portions of Ishaya’s and occasional pieces of Seuns meal, the bill arrived in its several thousands and I promptly moved to the next table to make the acquaintance of the gentleman who we had no doubt been disturbing with our bantering.

Seun and Ishaya settled the bill (now you see why I was hyping them) while I continued to make a new friend, I would have joined in settling the bill but my kind nature got the best of me, and Seun and Ishaya forgot to remind me, honest! I vaguely remember them calling my name at the time, but I imagine they were calling to tell me my laces were undone or something. Honest! The fact that I left the table as soon as the bill came was complete Coincidence. Honest!!!

It so turned out that the acquaintance I made was Mr. Bayo Imam, Editorial Director Extraordinaire of the excellent magazine Sur La Terre (a lifestyle Magazine that this humble blogger hopes to feature in some time)- now you see why I am hyping him too!!

As we left the cafe, with Seun and Ishaya several thousand shorter, and I, with the distinct taste of AWOF down my throat, I mused on how the person that said you don’t always get what you want, had probably never watched me eat before. And while I would like to finish that thought for you, I didn’t account for the time difference, my mother is now on the phone....seems her spidey senses are still intact, now where did I keep that Bible............

Salamander Cafe is now located at No: 5 Bumjumbura Street, off Liberville Street, Wuse ll, Abuja. They can be reached on +234 70 27850 932

Sidenote: Spoiling for a laugh? Head over to www.wazobiareport.com for the best coverage of Nigerian Non-Issues. Salamander Cafe also hosts The Abuja Literary Society every third Friday of the month for the literary inclined. My friend Seun heads an excellent travel agency called Siobhan Williams, interested in hassle free travel give him a shout on +234805411109

Entering China Through the Express

I find I have to confess another bias, I love Chinese, and I am a Self-Confessed Sinophile, I love the culture, rich heritage, film and food! And say what you like Bruce Lee rocks!!! Enter the Dragon Baby!!!

Like I mentioned in my last post the Chinese are everywhere, one billion trillion of them, China isn’t big enough; the healthy import of this is that they have exported considerable parts of their culture to the world. Their recent predominance in world affairs (leave me I studied it in school) means that like the many colonialists genuine businessmen before them, they have new-found interest in Africa.

As Nigeria is known never to carry last (Insert Translation: Nigerians have a healthy appetite for competition and always win!!!) we have been experiencing our own influx, and it is evident from the less suspicious Chinese restaurants springing up around the capital city, and the more ominous giant CCCC- Chinese Colonialist Construction Corporation- Ripping you off since 2010- Allah that is their slogan!!! (Honestly can anyone get that CCCC acronym right)?

And while I am wont to discuss the benefits of Foreign Direct Investment or the disadvantages of Corporate Imperialism, Goodluck hasn’t commissioned my humble submission that I- yes I- should be made Minister of Foreign Affairs, so I took a day off from my posturing and political grandstanding and swung by the new Chinese restaurant in the Wuse II District of Abuja, and I will tell you all about it after a message from our corporate sponsors.

(Insert Voiceover: Welcome to China!!!! Most of us have watched the late great big boss Bruce Lee in one of his action movie films, and we have all seen someone wear the perhaps not-original-but-close-to-it latest fashion from China, ever wanted to go to China???? Embassy turn you down??? Sad Face?? Not anymore!!!! Offering you your one stop shop Visa Procurement Agency!!! Idon Fraud & Sons guarantees you Visa to the orient for a discounted fee, our consulting team includes renowned spiritualists & prayer warriors and T.B Joshua!!!!. Visit us at Unit 419 Alaba International Ultra-Modern Bluetooth Wireless Market) and now to our regular scheduled programme......

I walked into the Chinese Express and I will say this much, the greatest testament to any Chinese restaurant is to see actual Chinese people eating there –no not Lebanese- actual Chinese people, with that said I sat down, confident that the proceedings could only get better. The Chinese Express has a dual system- operating with both A la Carte and buffet- for the person on the go and those that can spare time.

Like most non-gourmet restaurants the furniture is functional, wooden tables and comfortable steel chairs, they however go to elaborate lengths to create the feel of a Chinese den, expect to see Ceiling lights draped in red paper fabric in what looked like a bamboo cylinder with tassels- and while I visited in the afternoon I imagine they give a pleasant luminous feel at night, resembling homely lanterns. The massive flat-screen was tuned to a Chinese station and as is custom it was muted while the speakers softly gave out sounds of the orient- gentle string music. 

The owners were leaving you in no doubt what the nationality of the establishment was, which is fine, it is after all named Chinese Express. While I waited to be served, the waiter who was attending to another table tripped over a table leg and the Chapman cocktail he was taking to a ladies table, flew off his serving tray and landed on mine perfectly, emptying its sugary-syrupy contents into my unsuspecting mouth- True story!! I only drink masculine drinks like Cognac and Jack Daniels and stuff, and that’s the only plausible explanation of how that drink would end up on my table. True Story!!!! Not like I ordered it- Tiger Rwwarrhhhhh!!!! See, very masculine.

After apologizing profusely for his folly, the waiter who we should call- hmmmm- Pooch, yep Pooch!! (Honestly restaurants need to get their waiters name tags or tell em’ to introduce themselves) Pooch refilled my glass with masculine content, and asked me what I would like, skimming through the menu my eyes settled on yet another plus for the restaurant, Aromatic Duck , that is yet another standard by which I judge a real Chinese Restaurant. I however didn’t subscribe to the Avian Platter, I opted to try a meat dish, and I opted for the Lamb with Green Pepper in Black Bean Sauce. Simple.

After a proportionate amount of time, my meal arrived, I was impressed and disappointed in equal measure, impressed that the chef obviously understood how to manage time, but disappointed that this restaurant wouldn’t provide me with fodder to dwell on or eavesdrop on. Just as the meal had arrived on time, everything else was happening within expected parameters. Then It Happened.

A bunch of armed robbers dressed in Halloween costumes ran into the restaurant, armed with Bow and Arrow and horsewhips, they ordered all of us on the floor while threatening to either release the bow or the whip, and as Yoruba men are always known to run to live to fight run another day, I gently and quietly- masculine drink in hand- lay down, after demanding that the till be emptied, they also demanded that the frightened manager pack a takeaway meal for them. True Story.

While this was happening, the Chef who up until now had remained hidden behind clouds of steam and the kitchen door, snuck out spatula and whisk in hand, he promptly disarmed the first bandit with a flash of the hand, and swift movement of the leg.........See you!!! You too like ‘tory. Na Lie o....I must have drifted off.

The Chef actually did make an appearance and he was a comely, wizened tall Chinese gentleman, he looked like he had fought many a battle in the kitchen. As I mentioned earlier, the restaurant didn’t provide much in the way of conversations to eavesdrop on or human interaction to spin. The group that I met there, the Chinese contingent was just about rounding up; they had obviously enjoyed their meal and were clearly suffering from the Itis (watch Season One: Episode Ten of the Boondocks) they were having a rapid staccato conversation, and the sole Nigerian who I imagined was their guide was seated quietly, occasionally checking her wristwatch and probably calculating mentally the exchange rate of the Chinese Yuan to the Naira.

One of the ladies in the contingent stood up to go to the bathroom, dear readers if you encounter a Chinese lady with Beyonce-esque features, let me know.

While casting my eye across the spread of the Express, I had failed to notice that Pooch didn’t bring the meal with the natural accompanying rice dish, and while I had assumed that the meal came with rice, Pooch should have pointed out what he saw to be an anomaly. What is it with waiters and not serving the complete meal, same thing happened with Vero at Cafe 24 (whose real name I have since confirmed is Euphrates: she should be happier called Vero).

Luckily I was able to order rice from their buffet section and not wait for it, while Pooch once again apologized. The meal wasn’t elaborate, and after tasting it, it didn’t have to be. There was no flourish or embellishment, it was simply Chinese and by that I do not mean the type of food, I mean it was lean, efficient and functional- like a Toyota- which I am well aware is Japanese. And while comparing a meal to a Toyota might not be the best description that is what the meal was to me, functional.

Perhaps I have had too much Chinese, but the meal did not hold any surprises for me, the lamb was coated in sauces when it had to be, rubbery when it had to be, tough when it had to be and then soft all at the same time. In other words, my meal was either a Transformer or schizophrenic, which in the end cannot be an easy feat.  I think I might have to have another dish there, and if the worst thing I can say about the meal I had was that it had split personalities, then I am sure the next one will be yet a surprise.

I emptied the remaining contents of my very masculine drink and exited expressly (see what I did there) N3500 lighter, as I walked out of the premises I was met with the obvious structure that is Banex Plaza immediately opposite Chinese Express, quite visibly I could watch my Igbo brothers scurry around as they tried and succeeded to convince many a buyers that their wares and Cds (all doctored and pirated from China) were the latest and Original, I mused on how the Chinese and Nigerians are not so different, Chinese sef No dey carry Last.

   

The Chinese Express Restaurant & Takeaway is Located at 44, Monrovia Street, Off Aminu Kano Crescent in the Wuse ll District of Abuja . They can be reached on 07043067888 & 08032413557 or emailed at chinesexpress@yahoo.com

**Sidenote: I am happy to announce that the Chicken Hurricane Meal I have been campaigning to have re-instated on the Cafe 24 menu has been (drum roll please) re-instated!!!! I have since been told that it was there ever since and I must not have seen it, I will continue to believe that it is my relentless advocacy and the countless amounts of Naira spent on me by others. And Vero or Euphrates is actually called Eucharia but I heard Euphrates and I think we all prefer it (just kidding).

Disclaimer: All views expressed in this are for comic effect, and not entirely the view of the author, I say this confident in the abilities of the likes of Jackie Chan, Jet Li and their compatriots, I will not like to have my ass kicked, my own muscles are simply cosmetic. I also harbour intentions to travel to Hong Kong one day and in case there are any Chinese Embassy Officials reading this, I was clowning. We are all God’s children. Gimme Visa.

On a more serious note, while speaking on China Let us all, spare a minute to pray for Japan, in the end we are all truly God’s Children.