The fish lures you here. It’s Nile Perch. Marinated first, then cooked with some magic. Then it comes to the table with it’s mouth half-open, a grimace of death. I’m no fan of Nile Perch, because growing up we all thought if you ate one you would smell the whole month.
But then this Nile Perch doesn’t know that lore of childhood. It’s as close to perfect as a fish can get to perfection. So how it goes is that you go there for lunch on a Friday because someone has been raving about it.
You gobble down that fish and traditional vegetables. Then you sit back, satisfied, surprised and lethargic. You think of what awaits you for in the office; boring e-mails you have to write, maybe another soul-sucking proposal. You think, ‘will the world grind to a halt if I didn’t go back to the office?’ You burp and say, “Nope.”
So you order an digestif. Which they have. There is rhumba music already seducing you from the speakers set all over the gardens where you are seated. And who listens to rhumba without drinking? So you order a double of whisky. Then another. The sun goes down and you realise you guys have been there for half the day. You are scared to look at the bill, so you all leave it there until finally you face your fate.
Nyumbani is good place to eat fish, drink alcohol and laugh. It’s spacious when you sit in the garden. It’s green. It’s good for groups.
I hear they also have chicken that is equally as good, but who wants chicken when you can eat fish. They get busy so service might get a bit slow, but with that relaxed ambience you never feel your blood pressure rising. The fish helps with blood pressure.
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