Bora Boras, Banana Bread & Brown Sofas

Robert's Café
(Café Grub)
16B Akin Olugbade, Victoria Island
01 2702606

My friend, Udeme, is a great man. The first time we met we didn't get along. My friends and I took a little too long to decide what drink would go best with our cakes, and were treated to a performance of eye-rolling, note-pad flapping and dramatic sighing. The next time I had the privilege of being waited on by Udeme, his reception was even frostier! Perhaps because he remembered me as the girl with the time-wasting friends? I'm not sure, but dude was cold, so cold! Until I did something I scarcely do, but am determined to make a habit of, and asked him what his name was, where he was from etcetera. That little trick, plagiarised from Iggy, earned me a smile and some friendly banter. And we have been buddies ever since! Now when I walk into Robert's Café, even if he isn't the one to take our order, he somehow ends up serving me and my friends, with a big grin on his chubby face and a jolly Santa Clause-like jiggle in his (ever growing) belly.

I wouldn't attribute my permanent presence on the sofas at Robert's to the service (fond as I've become of Udeme), nor would I attribute it to the food. What does it for me at Robert's, is the level of comfort. With my butt ensconced in one of their brown sofas, I might as well be at any friend's house, hanging out in their living room with a warm slice of cake. I am that comfortable there! Plus it helps that I happen to have fallen in love with two items on their menu. The Bora Bora, which I believe is a fruit cocktail made from pineapple juice, grenadine and a ton of pink sugary goodness, and their banana bread (think warm, textured nutty cake with chunks of soft, but never gooey or sickly, banana). My Bora Bora and banana bread combo is literally heaven on earth.

Today though I stepped a little outside my comfort zone and ordered a toasted ham and cheese croissant. My verdict? Yummy! The toasted croissant was light and crisp, and not the chunky, crunchy mess that I have been presented with in some sandwich places in London. Don't get me wrong, I have tried other things on the Robert's menu before, especially during the good old days when Doctor Robert himself, the genius baker, could be sighted in the corner giving a telling off to some poor waiter or the other. But I have always gone running back to my banana bread and Bora Bora. Even after my croissant today, I ended up indulging in my usual with half a slice of carrot cake thrown in for good measure. My friend Tosin, who copied everything I ordered unashamedly, liked the carrot cake, but I wasn't impressed. The raisins killed it for me. Putting raisins in carrot cake is as bad as eating jollof rice with ketchup in my world.

The carrot cake aside though, I have found that Robert's is king, when it comes to cake - unless of course you happen to catch the last slice of a loaf baked the day before, in which case you're in for some still decent, but very dry mouthfuls. Their chocolate cake however I am still yet to catch on a bad day. Consistently moist and rich (my mouth is watering now just thinking about it), it is absolutely divine. The only complaint I can muster up after thinking really hard, would be about the sheer gynormousness (I make up words, get used to it) of the slices. I have left Robert's with many a chocolate cake-induced tummy ache, the fault being entirely mine of course (greed is a terrible thing) and not the chef's.

On the drinks front however is where Robert's tends to fall flat. The cappucinos and mochas leave much to be desired - my friend Carmen was so right when she termed the mochas "cups of Ovaltine with not even the slightest hint of coffee". The other fruit cocktails and juice mixes too tend to be on the watery side, and I am yet to order a glass of pineapple juice made from fruit that is actually sweet and ripe.

All things considered though, I am still very much a fan of Robert's Café, even moreso now that I've discovered just how chic the top floor is. My only worry is that I'll be forgotten completely by the waiters the day I do finally decide to sit there. Till then, I will continue to punish myself by holding onto the prime position in the smoker's section, praying all the while that no smoker comes along to wreck my little taste of heaven.

Not too Shabby, Bambi!

Bambuddha
(Thai)
21 Karimu Kotun Street, Victoria Island
01-7614198
www.bambuddha-lagos.com

I have a sick habit. Okay perhaps "sick" is too strong a word? Let's call it an annoying habit. I can be sitting pretty in my car, or on my laptop, or in the shower, when all of a sudden my mind will begin to wander, my mouth will water, and my tongue will decide that it just has to have Dish A, from Restaurant B, in City C. I can be in Mumbai or Marrakech, it doesn't matter where - my tongue doesn't care much for geography.

Since I moved to Lagos in July, I have had a number of these uncontrollable cravings. This month alone (and yes I am well aware that it is only the eleventh hour of the first day of the month) I have had three cravings. The first was for chocolate covered raspberries from Marks & Spencer. The second was for a bacon and avocado ciabbatta from Caffé Saporito in Marylebone (London). And the third was for creme brulée from Pastis in New friggin' York!

I couldn't do anything about the first, I didn't have a panini machine with which to recreate the second, and so I went on a treasure hunt of sorts for the third. I had made plans to have dinner with a friend tonight, sushi at Fusion in fact, but just as we turned onto Ozumba Mbadiwe, we found a mess of cars queueing up to get into the Lagoon complex, and decided sushi could wait (plus I'd eaten at Fusion earlier in the week anyway). At that moment, my tongue did a little dance, and the words "creme" and "brulée" popped into my head. You see, last Sunday I had had the most dreadful creme brulée at Saipan (think coffee-flavoured mousse minus the ever essential burnt caramel crust) and had moaned to a fellow foodie about it. Her solution to my conundrum was Bambuddah. I made the mental note to go this week but completely forgot about it until the friend I was with tonight said, "Bonzai?" at which point I shook my head and said, "No, Bambuddha!"

Now the funny thing about Bambuddha is that I've been a thousand times for drinks with friends, but never to eat. Why? Because two years ago when the restaurant opened, all I heard was complaint after complaint from friends and family. Being a lover of Thai food, I made the decision at the time to steer clear of Bambi, and resigned myself to eating at Pattaya. Tonight though, I was prepared to make an exception, if only to have a spoonful of average, mediocre creme brulée (I was wanting it that badly).

We walked into the beautiful beeootiful restaurant, and the first thing I did was scour the menu to check that creme brulée was still on it. Only after that, did I sit back and take in my surroundings. Bambuddha in my (humble) opinion is the funkiest and best decorated restaurant in Lagos at the moment. It is the only restaurant in the city (I really shouldn't speak for the mainland) that sees its decor through, right from its patterned wallpaper to little bronze Buddha figurines and polished chopsticks. I absolutely love it! And I can't for the life of me work out why it is always empty! The music is consistently cool, funky jazz; they have the best bartenders in Lagos, serving up the freshest, crisp mojitos you will find anywhere on this side of 3rd Mainland Bridge (believe me, I've looked!); and their staff are always so friendly and welcoming. In fact after my friend and I were seated, the first thing the dark waitress with the cute accent (must get her name next time) said was, "Strawberry Mojito?" My friend, let's call him Iggy, and I had lapped up mojito after mojito in their lounge a week ago, and I was very impressed that she remembered.

Eager to get onto dessert, I skipped starters and ordered their Thai green prawn curry and egg fried rice. Iggy ordered the surf and turf and shrimp fried rice. The food didn't take too long to arrive (perhaps it did, but I was too engrossed in my mango mojito to notice). And when it arrived, I was so happy we'd skipped Fusion in favour of Bambuddah. My curry was absolutely delicious, and could just as easily have been from Busaba or Banana Leaf in London. The rice was a teeny bit on the hard side, but it was still so much lighter that the usual egg fried rice I've had at Chinese restaurants in Lagos. Iggy's surf and turf on the other hand, didn't look too appealing, so I didn't try it, and instead held back from laughing whilst he struggled to get the prawns out of their shells.

Main course over, and without looking at the dessert menus, Iggy asked our waitress to bring out the creme brulée. I got myself all geared up and excited, ordered a raspberry mojito and sat back in anticipation. Five minutes later though, my hopes were dashed as she returned to tell me that they were out of creme brulée. I couldn't believe my ears! I really wish restaurants in Lagos would do what's done in London where, from the minute you sit down, the waiter reels off a list of items that're unavailable at the time. If I had a thousand naira for every time I looked forward to a dish only to hear the words "Sorry Madam, we don't have..." I would be a friggin' trillionaire!

Needless to say, my evening at Bambuddha ended on a low. But if my name is anything to go by, you can be sure I'll be back there before the week is out, asking yet again for the creme brulée. I've searched high and low for it in Lagos, and I'm not about to be deterred so easily now that I've found a source, albeit an unreliable one. Though next time, perhaps I'll call in advance to see if it's available or not. I can't afford to be brulée'd twice in a row! (Teehee! That was lame!)