H onestly, what to make of Fay Weldon and her 'product
placement' novel? Well, I know what I think. Indeed, if I were ever to meet Ms Weldon I would say. 'Shame on you!' Which happens, by the way, to rhyme nicely with JIMMY CHOO. I might even go further and say, 'Shame on you, Fay.' (Size four, if I may.) Now, apart from AUDI QUATTRO and PHILIPS WIDESCREEN TELLY, that's my final word on the subject.
And so on to Nando's. Believe me, if there isn't a branch of Nando's near you, there soon will be. First launched in the UK in 1993, there are now 38 outlets and it seems to be taking over our high streets in a way which, say. PRADA is not (or GUCCI, for that matter; OK, Gap is, but I don't want any of their boring old rubbish). Nando's is an 'Afro-Portuguese' chain of fast-food restaurants specialising in PenPen i chicken — that is, chicken basted with an African bird's-eye chilli sauce. It should not be confused with Beri-Beri chicken, which has a bandy-legged condition brought on by thiamine deficiency, or GeriGeri chicken, which needs obscene amounts of attention, does a lot of yoga and has a little yappy dog.
Anyway, there's a Nando's a short stroll down the road from us, so off we go. That is, me. my son, my friend Louisa and her four young boys. I do not go with my partner, On the subject of my 'partner'. I was interested to read Julie Burchill's comments on my use of this word in the feedback section of the Spectator website, which I occasionally log on to. every 30 seconds or so, just to see if anyone is being nice about me (hurrah) or horrid (boo). She writes, 'If the person she refers to practises law with her, he is indeed her partner. But if he lives with her without benefit of marriage, he is basically a boyfriend.' Well. I'm with Ms Burchill all the way, except for one small fact. We are a law firm! Indeed, we are Ross & Jones, who not only have a wealth of expertise and experience in all aspects of the law. but are also friendly, easy to talk to, and keen to help. Still, it means, of course, that my partner can't accompany us because someone has to stay behind to man the 24-hour accident-at-work helpline. I mean, you just never know when someone is going to fall over a paper clip left lying about by a negligent employer, do you? It may even have happened in the last three years and they've only just remembered it. (By the way, we usually operate on a nowin-no-fee basis, but, in Ms Burchill's case, we might make an exception and demand a staggering amount up front, which we will promptly disappear with.) Now where were we? Oh yes. Off to Nando's. The boys have just had their first day back at school and, boys being boys, are full of it. How was it'? 'All right.' Your new
teacher? 'All right.' The new head? 'All right.' How would you feel if I were to swing you by your ears until your nose dropped off? 'All right. Can you stop talking to us now?' Into Nando's, where the first thing I note is that nothing is depressingly plastic, which is something of a novelty in what is essentially a cheap, quick, standardised joint. It's wooden counters, wooden floors, wooden chairs, proper plates, proper glasses, proper crockery. Not that plastic is always depressing. In its place, and designed by PHILLIPPF STARCK, it can be jolly nice. Also, the staff — girls, mostly in saucy 'Chicks Rule' T-shirts — do seem to have a bit of go about them, unlike the usual fast-food, paper-hatted dimwits who, between them, would struggle to obtain a GCSE in putting on their own socks. For instance, when one of the boys inevitably spills a drink all over the table, I do not have to spend ages seeking out some disgruntled, sockless employee to ask for a cloth. Instead, someone happily dashes over with a big kitchen-roll thingie the size of, I don't know, a handmade fitted kitchen from SMALLBONE OF DEVIZES, and cheerfully gets on with clearing it up.
Now this is how Nando's works. At the counter you're invited to study a menu which perhaps tries a little too hard to be the best friend you've never had, because
you are fundamentally unlikeable. 'Have a Pen-Pen i good time.' it instructs, along with 'Use your hands, get messy, feel the heat, laugh, put your elbows on the table, lick your fingers.... ' This place is very, very family-orientated. Indeed, the staff even call the restaurant manager `patrao. which, apparently, means head of the family in Portuguese and is a very nice-sounding word, just like CARTIER. Then you order. You can order big chicken, little chicken, chicken wings, chicken burgers, chicken sandwiches . .. hey, this isn't THE IVY, you know. We order the jumbo platter — a family feast of two whole chickens, two large chips, two green salads and one coleslaw, at £29.95 — which, we're assured, is more than enough for two adults and five children, which it is. You then stake your territory by taking a numbered cockerel thing to a table, where you wait for the food. Meanwhile, if you've ordered fizzy drinks, these are 'bottomless', which means you can fill your glass with Sprite or Fanta or Coca-Cola as many times as you wish. Of course, the boys go mad for this, repeatedly filling up their glasses with hideous cocktails of Sprite and Fanta and Coca-Cola but not, alas, BOLLINGER.
The chicken — which arrives very quickly indeed — is, I'd guess, part-cooked somewhere else and then just finished off on the on-site open grill. Still, as far as chicken goes, it seems pretty good: spicy on the outside — we chose 'medium' Pen-Pen, but you could go for 'hot' or 'extra hot' — and moist on the inside. The salad was not exactly mind-blowing, but it did have fresh, flat-leaved parsley in it, which was something. And pudding? Well, put it this way, five 'bottomless frozen yoghurts' does equal five very happy boys.
In conclusion? Well, you're not going to get a gourmet experience at Nando's, but if you have kids and want something quick which they'll love and which represents a vast improvement on most fast-food joints, then it probably hits the spot. Marks out of ten? Well, the boys decide on nine, perhaps reserving one mark for the as yet undiscovered restaurant that'll give them bottomless TV viewing and permission to go to bed whenever they so fancy. Whatever, that's it for this week. Toodle-pip. And a very happy NOKIA to you all.
Branches of Nando's are listed at www.nando's.co.uk or you can call 0800 975 8181. If you wish to post nice things about me on the Spectator website, go to www.spectatorco.uk. If you wish to post horrid things, I hope a filing cabinet as heavy as a LAND ROVER DISCOVERY towing one of those new dinky VW BEETLES falls on you next time you go to work. In which case, you might wish to contact Ross & Jones. . . .
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