Nini slammed the phone on her palm again. Great, the one phone Dara had lent her to manage was also having issues. She pressed the power button again, and the screen lighted up.
A sigh of relief slipped from her mouth.
She tried Dara's number again, and again, it wasn't available. The lid she had put over her anger was fast coming off. To calm herself down, she breathed in, and then out, all the while searching the street for Dara's arrival.
The classy restaurant had been Dara's idea. She had reserved it for Nini's birthday, and given her the direction, promising to meet her after she had finished sending off the clothes she had sewn to some clients.
That morning, Nini had been extra excited to go out, and realized she barely went beyond Iya Asake's Buka or eaten beyond her foods. So, as a way to relax, Dara had done the one thing she didn't know she needed; taken her for a treat of the palate.
She had put extra effort in dressing that morning. Her mother had been the first to wish her happy birthday when the clock had just struck 12, and there was a look of pride on her mother's face when Nini informed her of that fact. She loved her mother for that; since she had been little girl, her birthday had been the one thing she had raced to wish her first.
Nini donned a long dress shirt designed with a cinch on the waist and paired it with her newest pair of jeans. She had gone through the effort of styling her headgear, a tapestry of color and style that complemented her features and accentuated her natural beauty.
The only problem were the heels. She had forgotten how wobbly they were when she started walking in them.
"Looking for me?!" Someone asked from behind her. Nini shook, and whirled around to see a grinning Dara.
"Dara now," Nini tried her best to hide her impatience. "You could have at least picked the call."
"I swear it didn't ring," Dara brought out her phone and showed Nini the call log. "You see? Happy birthday, Ore mi. And wait, I have the first part of your birthday surprise."
Dara fished inside her small bag and produced Nini's phone. Nini screamed when she saw it, marveling at its new and fixed look.
"Dara!" Nini gasped again. Dara had come over to her place and had taken her phone a day before, saying she knew someone who was willing to do it at a cheap rate.
"Switch on the data, see if it will switch off," Dara urged her.
Nini held her breath and switched on the data.
"It didn't switch off!" Nini screamed. "Dara, it's working just fine!"
Nini hugged her friend, her earlier disposition of annoyance all gone. She turned on the camera, and while putting her arm around Dara's shoulder, she took a selfie.
"So you like your gift?" Dara asked.
"So much," Nini hugged the phone to her chest. "Thank you, Dara. It means so much to me."
"Don't worry, I have another gift for you," Dara said. "Open your Instagram first."
Nini wondered she was on about. She opened her Instagram, and then, when she saw the flood of notifications on her page, she covered her mouth.
She couldn't believe it.
There were so many likes.
"Dara...," Nini managed to say. "Dara..."
"Do you know what that means?" Dara tapped her friend's forearm. "I told you. You are going to that Institute. You have already passed the guy that was leading, and it closes in three hours."
"But how?" Nini could not believe her eyes.
"I said don't worry," Dara told her. "Is it not I, Oluwadarasimi? I know people na, it's just a matter of double tapping? That's all."
"But Dara...," Nini began again.
"Just let it be. Let us take pictures in this area, it's fine oo. Ah, Nini, you look takeaway! Omo to rewa. Ore mi Agbani Darego," Dara praised her friend. "Oya, stand by the swing. Let me take your pictures and then you'll take mine. Okay?"
"It's not a swing. It's a hanging swing chair," Nini corrected.
"It's sha swinging. Please, let's take pictures, ebi m pami," Dara complained of being hungry.
So Nini stood, all smiles and cheese, as Dara took pictures of her. Once done, the both of them walked through an entrance framed by an archway entwined with delicate vines. In the surroundings, there were plants everywhere with vibrant green leaves that made Nini wonder if they were real or fake. Blooming flowers lined the stone pathway that lead to the glass entrance of the restaurant.
Inside, they were greeted by a spacious dining area that continued the nature-inspired theme. The ceiling was adorned with hanging baskets of flowers and trailing vines, while strategically placed skylights offered glimpses of the blue sky. Soft ambient lighting added to the cozy ambiance, while subtle sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves filled the air, and Nini was impressed.
They were served quickly, plates of different varieties of meals before them. From pasta with meatballs, to Beef Wellington, to spiced fishes to Basmati rice pilaf to sauces of different kinds.
Dara looked unsurely at all of the meals, spoon in hand.
"Ah, I just ordered what sounded familiar off the menu oo," Dara said. "All these ones that are looking like Chinese food. Abi we should have gone to eat Amala and gbegiri jeje?"
Nini shook her head. "I don't like gbegiri, and besides. Let's try it first."
She scooped the rice, and her taste buds were not ready for the surprise. The flavours caressed her tongue, and it's texture, soft and tender, was like a graceful embrace. Notes of warmth, spice, and subtle hints tingled at her tongue, and somewhere, a nutty undertone hid like a hidden treasure.
It was like taking a trip down a Morrocan marketplace, or that was how she imagined that part of Africa to smell like, with air perfumed with a symphony of spices.
"Beautiful," Nini said.
Dara frowned. "Me I just want stew. They put curry in this sauce oo." She peered at the thin film of oil over one of the sauces. "And thyme, abi what is this?"
"Eat first," Nini said.
Dara used her spoon to scoop the stew atop her meal, and with a fork, she hesitantly put it in her mouth. Her eyes widened, and she nodded before she took another forkful.
"Savour it as you eat," Nini laughed.
"Wo, leave me," Dara said.
It was then the doors of the restaurant opened, and when three guys stepped in, Nini knew Dara would be at alert. One of them, a plus-sized young man holding up a camera and recording, another with long braids and a calm face, and the last, the tallest among them, had his face cap drawn too close to his eyes his entire face was a shadow.
Dara tapped Nini's arm several times. "See fine boys!"
"Dara, please no." Nini begged.
And when they sat at the table directly behind them, Nini hoped Dara would behave herself during the meal.
_
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_
Folarin looked around the interior of the restaurant when the waiter went to get their meals. Not bad, he thought. But one doesn't judge the food of the restaurant simply by its interior, he was a Chef, he knew that quite well.
He didn't want to come. Infact, minutes ago, he had been at the backseat of Reggie's car, reclining and flipping through one of the books Chef Rouge had handed over to him.
The new class Chef Rouge had wanted him to lead would begin soon, and he had been to lots of the Chef's classes and stood alongside him to know what to do. But to put that into action was a whole different ballgame, and he wouldn't do anything less than the best, especially under the watchful eyes of the other Head Chefs.
It was in the middle of his study that his friend with the bottomless pit he called a stomach had announced, "I'm hungry!"
"Tell us something we don't know," Folarin commented.
"Alexa, find restaurants nearby for me," Tayo said.
"We aren't going to any restaurants," Folarin said. "We are only here on the mainland for Reggie's quick dash to collect something from his friend."
"Look, I needed that laptop urgently for work," Reggie said from the driver's seat. "And I'm sorry I didn't mention I was coming to the Mainland."
"I found one, good reviews," Tayo said as he browsed his phone. "It's three minutes away. Reggie, please, take the next turn."
"He's not taking any next turn," Folarin protested.
"Actually, I'm kind of hungry myself," Reggie said. "I could use some food."
Folarin groaned and flipped the next page. He pushed himself up, and clenched his teeth when pain shot through his cast hand.
"You okay back there?" Reggie asked, watching him through the rearview mirror.
"If you keep driving like a tortoise, I won't be," Folarin replied.
Minutes later, they parked their car in the park of a comfortable looking restaurant. Tayo was the first to get down, and Reggie's phone rang. Folarin watched as he stared at it and silenced it.
"Tiwa?" Folarin asked.
"She's been using different numbers to call me," Reggie said. "I just need some space now."
Folarin tapped his friend's shoulder, and Reggie looked back at him. "Are you still planning on getting back together with her?"
"Look, she's sent tons of apology texts..."
"Oh God," Folarin groaned and stepped out of the car. Tayo, who had already began recording the venue, probably for his YouTube channel or Instagram account, paused it and looked between Folarin and Reggie.
"What's going on?" He asked.
"Romeo over there wants to get back with psycho Juliet," Folarin said.
"No! Reggie, listen, I will tell you what my mother always tells me," Tayo said. "This is not normal, this has become a spiritual matter."
"Look, guys," Reggie started. Folarin stopped in his steps, and lifted his head so he could watch Reggie from beneath the hood of his cap.
"I haven't decided, so can we not talk about this anymore?" Reggie asked. "Just, please?"
Tayo looked at Folarin. Folarin shrugged.
"There's another thing I would really like when we step in," Tayo said before they moved. "And that's for Folarin not to ruin the vibe by criticizing the foods."
"Yes," Reggie clapped once and pointed a finger at Folarin. "Seconded."
"I don't criticize," Folarin argued. "I just tell the truth."
"If you know you want to "tell the truth"," Tayo airquoted Folarin's words, "Just go into the car and wait for us."
Folarin pocketed his good hand, and still stared at both of his friends. They could not make out his expression from underneath the cap.
"Okay," Folarin finally said. "Let's go in."
And so, when the meals were served before them, Folarin didn't say anything. They all had good fragrances, yes, and as Tayo began to scarf down on the rice, Folarin took a look at his and took a bite, chewing on it slowly.
He met Reggie and Tayo's gaze on him, a dare. He didn't say anything as he took on the second spoon, but if he were to say something, if, he would mention that the rice was overcooked, and the spices were not subtle, as if the Cook, because it was certainly not a Chef that prepared the meal, had just gotten some new flavours and wanted to try it all at once.
How can someone mess rice up again?
So he took the second dish he ordered, Spaghetti Bolognese, with the Bolognese made out of beef, and dropped his fork.
He raised a finger.
"Reggie," Tayo called to his other friend.
"Fola," Reggie warned.
"Relax," Folarin said. "No criticisms. Got it."
A waiter was by his side, and Folarin knotted his fingers together and made his request.
"I would like to see your Cook," Folarin said.
The waiter looked puzzled. "Our Chef? Is there a problem?"
"No, not at all," Folarin said.
"Ignore him," Tayo told the waiter.
"Please," Folarin said, giving Tayo a side-eye. "Just a minute or so, I won't take much of his or her time."
The waiter nodded, and moved to the back of the marbled counter. Folarin didn't meet his friend's eyes. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, tapping away on a foot as he waited.
Meanwhile, Dara was talking about Nini's third birthday gift, and that was the bunch of money in her hand she was counting to pay for their meal.
"Are you sure?" Nini asked for the umpteenth time. "I mean, you've done a lot already. I can cover my own meal."
"Nini," Dara shot her a pointed look.
"Okay, I'm sorry," Nini raised her palms. Across the restaurant, a Chef made their way over, and Nini watched as he stopped at the table behind them.
"After this, let's go and buy ice cream," Dara said. "I don't want us to experience all the fun in a single restaurant."
Nini nodded. "And then we could do some cakes as well."
But as Dara counted the money, Nini couldn't help but overhear the conversation going on between the Chef and someone at the table behind her.
"...no, I am only trying to advise you. The meat of the Bolognese is too rubbery, you cooked this thing over high heat, and the sauce needs more flavouring." The guy said.
"...but it was prepared how Bolognese is meant to be prepared."
"And the Basmati rice? Is that the same thing you'd say about it?" The guy asked.
There was a bit of silence. "Sir, is the food not to your likening?" The Chef asked, a strain to his voice.
"Oya, let's go," Dara rose from her seat.
"Wait," Nini held up a hand.
"I'm not saying that. I'm just trying to give you some advice," the guy said. "Imagine a food critic was to come in here, I'm saving you from harsh reviews."
"Oya oo," Dara said. "I'm still hungry."
"Sir, we can get you roasted duck as a compensation," the Chef said, clearly stressed out.
"I don't want a compensation. I'm only trying to make you understand where you can improve," the guy said.
"Nini!" Dara called her friend.
Nini rose from her seat. She looked over at the table. There, two tired looking friends watched the back and forth between the Chef and their other friend.
Nini bit her bottom lip. She wasn't thinking when she tapped at the Chef's shoulder, and their conversation halted.
"I just have to say, today's my birthday, and your meals were exquisite," Nini looked over to the plate of Basmati rice in front of the complaining guy. "Especially the Basmati rice pilaf. The spices were balanced and on point."
The Chef looked at the complaining guy as he said. "Thank you."
"I just want you to also know, I appreciate culinary work, and I always have. And I cannot whip up what you did today, but I did make my comments. You've got to understand that some comments, good or bad, can come from us who don't know half the thing about what it's like to prepare such a delicate meal," Nini continued. "And people usually claim to be Chefs! It can so easily be stated by anyone these days, especially on social media, including people who only whip up Indomie for lunch. Trust me, as a GenZ, I know what I am talking about." Nini gave a nonchalant laugh. "So, Chef, you are the professional. You know your work better than anyone, and let commenters, like me, remain as such."
The Chef produced a hand for a shake, and Nini took it. She didn't look to see who was sniggering at the table. But she stepped back, and walked with Dara to pay for the meal.
The Chef returned to Folarin, a smile on his lips. "I'll get you that roasted duck still, not on the house though." His smile was still unwavering when he stepped back. "I guess that concludes our discussion."
The Chef walked back to the kitchen, and Folarin didn't take his eyes off the intruder who had insulted him in the most indirect and direct manner. He? Not knowing what it is like to prepare a meal? Who was she and why did she think it was okay to butt in?
He watched her as she giggled with her friend, both chatting their heads off as they exited the restaurant. When he looked back at the table, Tayo and Reggie were still laughing.
"It's not funny," Folarin said.
"I don't know her," Tayo took Folarin's food from his front. "But am I glad we ran into her. Put you right in your place."
"God, I love her," Reggie laughed some more.
"Fola is quiet oo," Tayo said.
"TY," there was a warning in Folarin's tone.
"Fola," Tayo called back.
Reggie and Tayo looked at each other, and bursted in another fit of laughter.