A week ago, my colleague, Kalungi Kabuye aka KK, posted a rant on Facebook. He ranted because a waitress rather than ask if he wanted another drink, merely picked up theempty Club bottle and waved it in his face. Was asking him if he wanted another that difficult? I don’t like it either and in the places that I go for a drink, Waitress and Waiter know fully well the wrath that I will unleash on them should they do that to me.
A by the way and this has nothing to do with this week’s Sunday tale. Has Moses Golola been invited to State House to get wads of cash, a house and a Pajero 4x4 for ‘sodomising’ Titus Tugume for ten seconds
in the East and Central African Championship title match last weekend?
Getting back, there is something about the service industry that I don’t click. And by the time you’ve read through this, I know what you will be thinking. That I am telling lies. I am not and if you are in doubt, ask KK because he was around when the incident happened.
We were in Soroti and the hotel we stayed at was nothing to write home about especially the food.
On the menu, everything was served with chips or rice. Having been to the said hotel a number of times, we used to settle for steak but this time gave it a miss when we realized the steak was not a streak but a carcass of beef that had been battered to make it flat and then tossed onto the sigiri.
So we opted for fried chicken and chips which made Waiter freeze. Clearing his throat he said: “You want chicken and chips?” Of course we want chicken and chip so KK assured him.
“How long will it take”I asked Waiter who rather unconvincingly said, 15 to 20 minutes and which for upcountry, is good time.
15 minutes came and went as did the 20 minutes. Hungry, we called Waiter who duly asserted that our meal was on the way.
As our stomachs grumbled, outside the dining room, there was the unmistakable squeal of chickens being chased in the courtyard. We didn’t think much of it until we heard the chicken squealing in the kitchen prompting KK to ask if that was our chicken.
When Waiter eventually turned up with our food, we did ask him and without a trace of embarrassment or a need to do some damage control, he attributed the delay to the fact that they had no chicken in the kitchen thus necessitating a quick capture and slaughter of one of them for our lunch. Hmm!
Moving on, we have embraced Indian cuisine especially since we found out that not all their food is spicy hot. But get his, Indian’s lie.
In every Indian restaurant, there is a dish called mutton rogan josh. Mutton if I am not mistaken is lamb or endiga for the benefit of those who don’t know what lamb is.
But Indian restaurants don’t serve lamb. They serve goat and seeing that Ugandan’s don’t really eat lamb and thus don’t know what it tastes like, the Indians cunningly get away with it. But I know my meat and duly summoned Chef who had this to say. “No, over here we use goat.” If you use goat so I told him, then why don’t you call it goat rogan josh? No need to guess what he did next. He glared at me with ‘if eyes-could-kill-eyes’then slithered his flabby backside to his kitchen.
Next time I go upcountry, I’ll pack my own chicken to save time and REAL lamb for my excursion to the Indian restaurant.
Trivial and Daft Thoughts, Outrageous Escapades and Sometimes Serious Content As Appears In My Sunday Vision Column. Updated Weekly.
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