An Evening In The Belly Of A Bird

Frequent visitors to this site, will understand by now my penchant for the orient, and its appeal to me. However, this consummate experience wasn’t fostered by any real intention to visit Chinese cuisine; I had intended to go watch a movie at the Silverbird Cinemas- Morning Glory to be exact, when I was informed that the picture 

wouldn’t be showing at the time advertised due to a technical glitch.

In my wandering around the floors of the Silverbird Entertainment Center, I wounded up in Woks & Koi Chinese restaurant, while I am convinced that my actions were arbitrary I also know that at any point I could have stopped them, I didn’t and wound up spending an evening sampling, once again, Chinese cuisine.

Woks & Koi restaurant is a fine and welcome addition to the Silverbird Entertainment Center, I have always commended the industry of the Noyinbo^TM brothers, Ben Bruce & Sons, yeah that’s right- I said noyinbo (the Curious Case of Benibo Bruce) which is my trademarked term for people of mixed race.

As I was carrying on earlier, Woks & Koi is a fine addition to the general architecture of the entertainment Centre, it isn’t in plain view, you have to go look for it, if you are inclined to walking- and if you are more inclined to shortcuts, getting the elevator to the second level will bring you face to face with Woks.

Opening the door, or more precisely having the door open for you, you will be hit with sticks, no- you didn’t misread, and you will be hit with the sight of bamboo sticks. The interior decorator- aware of the invasiveness of having a restaurant in the middle of an entertainment centre has decided to remove the glare, the attention and most especially the lights. The decorator is a vampire. Kidding.

Walking into restaurant, you are removed from the noise and pace of the centre outside, it’s almost like you are stepping into a vacuum. The lights are dimmed, and reflected to give it a reddish glow, the entire sprawl of the restaurant is separated by bamboo sticks, and there is excellent use of space, as there is bar at the far end of the room, a welcome area for patrons who might have to wait to be seated, or are simply there for their take away menu. The central dining area is divided between, two/four seater arrangement, and as mentioned earlier, it is all divided by bamboo sticks exquisitely done. Towards the rear there are couches spread across the back wall, for a larger crowd and more intimate environment.

I chose a table close to the wall in the middle of the hall, allowing me to peer through what little opening there was in the blind, and discover if I needed to do what was happening outside of the vacuum. Having not sat for all of one minute, a waiter with a name tag welcomed me-yes people a name tag – announcing he was Joseph, and he very well needed to be in his coats of Chinese colours.

The menu was presented and I opted for a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, Chinese Potstickers for starters (Pork dumplings) and for the main course, Calamari in Chilli sauce. Menu set, agenda approved.

While I sat and waited for my meal, I sampled the wine, standard really, but I detected a strong hint of pepper in it which made me question if they had served me the right wine, I made a mental note to stop being cheap and buy the entire bottle. I continued to wait for my meal, I sampled the variety of nuts they had on the table- this restaurant understood the how to be restaurateurs.

As is my custom I took in the entire restaurants and its patron to see if I would be privy to priceless human interactions, much like the episode in Cafe 24 earlier in the year, however apart from the bald Tosin Beckford and his Noyinbo date, the place was pretty empty.

My potstickers arrived on pan complete with all its accompanying condiments, I dug into it, and the pork was rolled into a thin and elastic skin of dough, the skin on the bottom of the dumpling was crispy as it looked as it had stuck to the pot- and I have since learnt that this is where it gets its name from. It was like it looked, elastic and simple. I found the choice of accompanying sauce to be the revelation of the night, I failed in my enthusiasm to ask the waiter what it was, it was in the same effort, sour and citric, and it was the perfect chaperon to the potstickers as they made their way into my alimentary canal. Woks & Koi is the reason the consummate experience was so named, restauranteering should be a complete experience from arrival to departure, a process of eager welcome to accomplished good-byes.

Before my meal was served, I was presented with a hot towel to cleanse my hands should I abandon pretensions and decide that my hands were the best tool for feeding myself, a napkin was placed in my lap- and then my meal came. I have fond memories of calamari, which is squid by another name, from a much younger age; I remember it been battered in some butter laced ingredient and the end results were glorious. In ordering the meal, I expected the same results. But what was eventually presented to me, and in rather attractive ensemble, platter and all was a steamed and boiled dish covered in fresh vegetables.

It was perhaps my disappointment in not having it grilled or fried that transcended on my eventual (dis)regard for the meal, it was nice, and the fault in ordering had been mine. I will say this much, the accompanying rich dish stayed true to Chinese cuisine and was prepared with Gluten. I emptied my glass and sorted out my bill, leaving the welcoming hold of Woks & Koi N6200 lighter.

As I walked out of the restaurant, I noticed it had begun to fill out, the Incredible Bulk and his Noyinbo date were in animated conversation, and other patrons had arrived, everyone seemed to be drawn to the television where an engaging Presidential Debate was ensuing, I stepped out into the lights and sounds of the entertainment centre and pondered how many Chinese meals it would take to get me to sell my vote.

Woks & Koi Chinese Restaurant is located in the Silverbird Entertainment Centre Plot 1161, Memorial Drive Central Business Area. They can be reached on 09-8746884, or on 07028002165 

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.

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.

  

Humble Beginning: My Foray Into Italy A La La Dolce Vita

I have always had a healthy appetite for cheese based meals, throw into the mix generous portions of meat- I am African- and we are in business!!! This informed my decision to begin my restaurant review at what I presumed was an Italian Restaurant. By the end of this review, you can make your own conclusion as to the definition of Italian. 

La Dolce Vita is located in the Wuse II District, Wuse II being a hybrid of the city’s penchant for the elaborate and its ability to recede to ordinary everyday Nigerian Life. La Dolce’s welcoming sign boldly displays that it is a Pizzeria, Bar & Restaurant.

Naturally when Pizzeria & Restaurant are in the same sentence, I assume Italian, in retrospect might not have been a fair assumption. I walked into the Plaza and the door was promptly opened for me by a man in a La Dolce t-shirt, - hmmmm good service, or the Oga Factor- hunger was wiring me (Insert Translation here: I was famished)

I rode the elevator three flights up- yes, if there is electricity and a functioning lift- exercise be damned. I opened the door of the restaurant and appeared in Narnia, ok seriously, I walked into the restaurant, and the first thing I was met with is the bar & the decor. The bar is complete with stools and lighting, almost like the decorator was trying to throw you into a vortex taking you back to the rat-pack era, Sinatra et al, still not decided if this is a good thing, as Chuks and Secondus behind the bar weren’t properly attired to lend to the theme.

Having said that the eponymous restaurant gets its name from the legendary movie La Dolce Vita, so expect to see a lot of movie memorabilia and movie posters, this works well for the Lounge which is thinly separated from the dining area with thin multi-coloured veils curtains. Honestly standing on the other side, you half expect to see Cleopatra make an entrance. Light Bulb moment, A restaurant Called Narnia with Egyptian Belly Dancers (Copyright, or Intellectual Property, meaning I will Sue if such a restaurant becomes reality without me on the payroll somehow)

Ehen, so I sat down at my table, there was no table for a two person- dinner, either the owner was looking to maximise space or s/he grew up with many brothers/sisters and one calabash. The Four person table was covered in red-white chequered table cloth, reminiscent of something in small town Italy, it worked. Akpan forgot to clean the table because there were still ashes from the previous occupants; there is no distinction for smoking or non-smoking section. Nor can there be, the dining area isn’t that big.

I ordered Mushroom Soup as a starter and Spaghetti Carbona with a Glass of Sangiovese Red Italy of course, to wash it down- from a waiter who didn’t provide his name or a smile, like the others I have named here; I’d like to imagine his name is Paulinus. Yes, yes, let’s call him that. Paulinus didn’t display any familiarity with his menu, and wasn’t able to provide me with a chef’s special. Asking for a sommelier after my conversation with Paulinus, would have just been cruel. The menu was limited as far as I see it, if you are going to go Italian, you cannot leave out Linguini, Ravioli or Lasagna, and what the hell is Goat Pepper Soup doing on the menu!!!! The Pizza section was extensive

So after ordering my starter at 19:26 it arrived ten minutes later, I am stickler for good mushroom soup, and when I have it in La Dolce Vita I will let you know. (Shout out to Blue Elephant in Port Harcourt) It was more onion than mushroom, and what it lacked for in quality and composition it made up for in volume. The Chef’s application of cream here was the equivalent of wearing perfume, hair gel and deodorant, it smelled nice but the body was dry and inelastic.

Did I finish it, Yes ke! Of course I did, there is a higher principle here, and children are starving the world over. After the abortion that was my soup, the redeemer lay in the main course, now the way I figure if you serve Italian you can’t go wrong with pasta right? Wrong!

See, I have had eye trouble in the past, but I am quite confident that what I was served wasn’t pasta/spaghetti but a superhero version of the Nigerian Staple Indomie Noodles. (Someone alert De United Foods to sue for False Representation? Someone? Anyone?)

I say superhero because the noodles looked decidedly more bulky and it almost seemed to shimmer in the hot moist, bath of steam it was served with, but it was not Pasta or Spaghetti and the bacon bits resembled large chunks of pork fried into a metallic state ( it was some sort of meat, so no beef there! All puns intended). In the mix with what I can only hope was celery, was something akin to semi-liquid bits of Peak Milk, I was assured it was intended to be egg bits, as if that somehow would assuage me!! Milk  eggs in a Carbona Dish!!

If it looked suspicious it tasted even more suspect, the Parmesan Cheese I sprinkled on it was all I could do to avoid the greasy slippery taste of 419 down my throat, sigh! And yes I finished the meal as well, is it your money?? But before then I had to balance the need for a review & hunger VS possible food poisoning, it would seem in the end my visa to Italy had been granted but I ended up in Hades. The wine was just right, not saying much you can hardly go wrong with red.

I finished the meal and walked out desolate, N5600 short and with the cold metallic taste of regret down my throat all by 20:00. In the end La Dolce Vita has a good thing going, nice crowd, ambience, it should however upgrade Chuks, Secondus & Paulinus and fire the Chef! Ok that seems a bit harsh, all that is needed is for two plates of Italian Cuisine to be placed in front of Le-Cheat Chef Conman, person, One plate of Original Italian Cuisine and the other his own misadventurous drivel. After a taste of the original, and his own submission, he will promptly run out the kitchen, through the dinner area, out the lounge onto the Rooftop Terrace and jump. Case solved.

On my way out a new crowd of what was apparently British Citizens came in for a meal, I left with a grin confident that someone else would be looking at the definition of Italian that night.

La Dolce Vita Restaurant is located at Safire Plaza 1066 Ademola Adetokunbo Crescent, Wuse II, Abuja.

Phone Number: +234 (0)8057828087

                           +234(0)7040045579

** Sidenote: I Apologise for not having visuals here, I didn't take a camera with me, lest Secondus show me his second side (Couldn't help it) and I have recently had my blackberries accosted, and it is my sincere wish that e no go better for who carry am (Translation: The thief will experience displeasure and discomfort)

It should be noted that La Dolce Vita hosts Karoke on Friday Nights and it promises to be good fun.