You know, the thing is, as an adult living in Kenya, it is hard to go to work, come home, watch TV, conduct a social life, think of the way forward in terms of your career, and take care of your family, and also have to cook at the end of the day.
All this is to say that not everyone feels like cooking all the time every day all day.
Which is why in this modern day of technology, apps and kibandas, it is very easy to not even have to cook anything more than eggs in the morning and never buy gas again.
Most people can manage to survive in the city on a diet of going over to your friends' or parents' houses, eating out every so often, but not that often, because of the economy, and navigating between your favourite kibandas.
One of these nights when no cooking was looking like it was being done, I was, ironically, at the supermarket.
No, not buying food, but buying...errr...refreshments, for the upcoming weekend. Cooking was not in the schedule for that night, even though rum was, so I decided to think of the nearest place to find a good meal and call ahead so that I could just swing by, pick up what I needed to get and go back to the comfort of my home.
I was at Ad Life Plaza, and I stopped going to News Cafe unless I am coerced by my company.
There was no company to coerce me, so I was set free of that bad-tasting prison for that particular night. Another option was Pizza Mojo, but I am no masochist.
Pizza Mojo is a paltry step above Pizza Inn, and I don't know about you, but I am still not a fan of bread and giant hoho.
I suppose I could have gone across the road to Yaya Centre and done Artcaffe, but that involved parking and security screening (which, by the way, for me, is an active deterrent to figuring out where to eat).
So I decided on a burger, from Mama Rocks. I called the Kilimani branch and placed my order, with a side of salad and plantain, and, the chilli sauce they call 'Only The Brave.'
Of course I wasn't going to drive all the way to The Alchemist – it was far from where I was, and like I said, parking is a deterrent.
When I pulled into the Kilimani branch after my supermarket run, I was surprised to see how packed the joint was – although I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, considering the fact that it was a Friday evening.
It made sense that it was crowded.
There was no parking, (sigh) and I had to park in front of another empty eatery apparently in the same compound.
That's an interesting choice to make for location, if I ever saw one.
Do they sometimes hope that when Mama Rocks gets too full, they'll get more than a spill over of cars into their parking? To each their own, I suppose.
I was very pleased with myself, that I had ordered ahead before I came, because the orders seemed to be taking a bit of time, as there were so many people.
My order, however, took me two minutes to locate after the manager went and checked at the cashier, and I walked out, rather smugly, I admit, back to the empty eatery's lot, and drove out. Mama Rocks was so packed, it almost took me longer to leave than it had to wait for my order.
When I got home, I happily dove into my burger. I like how they package their food for takeaway.
The little illustrations and sayings on the wrapping make you feel amped about what you're about to consume.
My burger was delectable, as always. Their gourmet burgers rarely disappoint.
I had the Kuku Republic, which is bread-crumbed chicken served with bacon and a dark fruity compote, and mayo, and crisped spinach, because sometimes we want to lie to ourselves that the calories are also from vegetables, right? Which, to be fair, is why I ordered the side salad.
Unfortunately, the salad was the most lacklustre part of the meal. It was too much lettuce, a few tomato slices and a little dressing. Luckily, the burger was good enough that I won't hold the salad against them...
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