Ugali, but make it fancy: How house hunting led to a food revelation

I have lived in the same house for seven years now. I moved in fresh out of campus, with nothing but a bed and a mattress and a bucketful of dreams. The building was still new-ish by then, so it looked a bit decent, at least from the lens of a broke boy just entering the adulting phase. But a lot has changed since then: the water is salty; the lights at the staircase only work when they want to; three more churches were built around me, meaning I can no longer sleep in on a Sunday morning; and the garbage collectors no longer come as often, which means there’s always some pungent smell that hits you right when you enter the gate - and that’s not something you can explain to a girl you’re trying to impress, for instance.

So, at the beginning of December, I finally made the decision to stop procrastinating and just move out, finally. I didn’t have a plan, I didn’t know where I wanted to live, hell I didn’t even have a proper budget; all I knew was that I deserved better. And the thing is, house hunting is a tiresome affair, but I have never used an agent anywhere I’ve lived my entire adulthood. If I want to move, I walk around and check out vacant houses physically and make a choice as quickly as possible. I don’t allow myself to see too many houses and get spoilt for choice. If I like the first house I view, then that’s it and I start keeping my mind busy with other things, like Googling how to overthrow a government.

Anyway, it was after one of these house hunting sprees recently that I remembered a friend of mine owed me lunch and a catch up. [Anybody that buys you free lunch in December is a friend in deed.] So I called her up and asked if the offer was still on and she said, sure. Then I asked if it was cool to show up with a friend [who had been helping me in my errands] and she said, of course. The she said to meet her at the recently opened Café Deli on Ngong Road, located just behind the Lexo petrol station. I checked out one more house before making my way there, huffing and puffing like an alcoholic Russian submarine captain.

Right off the bat, I fell in love with Café Deli because of two things; table spacing, and ambience. I like a restaurant in which I can walk around without feeling like I will knock down someone’s cup of uji off their hands and be forced to kneel down in remorse. I also like it when tables in restaurants are spaced slightly far apart because then one can have a conversation with their date without the nosey Rosey at the next table eavesdropping. That also applies in reverse, people say silly things out here; I don’t want to overhear a conversation between two idiots saying Nyashinski did not deserve to close the Blankets & Wine concert.

The ambiance was moderately done; they didn’t try too hard with it, but the colours were still popping. It looked something like an art and culture hub, or an ad agency, basically just a cool place where cool kids go to hang out to come up with cool ideas. The seats and tables were simple yet still elegant, the floor had that macho rough feel, and the walls were decorated with cosy art works including paintings and even cooking pots that I assumed were symbolic but forgot to ask what they meant.

When we eventually sat down and asked for the menu, the lady friend I was meeting told us not to worry, that she had already placed our orders. When I asked what she had ordered, she simply said not to worry, that it was a surprise and that we’d love it. First of all, I don’t like surprises, because I usually do not know how to react if I do not like it. Secondly, I was super hungry and just needed something with meat. But while we waited, I asked her why she chose that Café Deli as the place to meet up, I have always only been familiar with the ones in the Nairobi Central Business District (CBD).

She said she discovered the place by accident during a random evening walk because she stays close by and fell in love with their traditional food. Then she said they have cocktail happy hours every day from 5pm to 7pm, with a cool DJ called Mclaren providing live mixes every Friday. I told her he should’ve began with that, the happy hour bit, not the food, because c’mon.

The food eventually came; my lady host had pork chops and masala fries, my accompanying friend was brought butter chicken sauteed in barbecue sauce and mashed potatoes, while I had polenta and T-bone steak seasoned with what the chef told me was “our secret blend of spices.” I’m one of those people who will taste everyone’s food at a table, and each item totally knocked my socks off.

What shook me a bit was the polenta which I initially thought were fries, only to later be told it was actually ugali that was frozen and then taken through a million other steps that I don’t remember now before coming out looking like potato wedges. I’m a Luo man and I prefer to have my fish with its head intact and my ugali round and tasting of corn, but that was an absolute delight of a meal. I would totally recommend it.