I’ve woken up with a serious crick in my neck and a dent in my thigh from lying on a long, stiff remote all night. By all night I mean since 4am when I finally gave up any notion of falling asleep and decided I might as well sit downstairs cocooned in a sleeping bag. All because I couldn’t say no to a bloody cheeky Nandos.
If you’re reading this from the UK, the chances are you’ve had a cheeky Nandos before. For those of you in other parts of the globe, you’ll probably not understand why a Nandos meal is cheeky or what our fascination is with the Portugese inspired, peri-peri chicken restaurant chain. It’s a thing, just get with it and accept it for what it is!
I went to Nandos with the Mini Me this week after a successful trip to Shrek Adventure, London. We needed a cheeky Nandos to kill time before our train home and I, like a complete idiot, decided to get an extra hot meal on an otherwise empty stomach. Like I’m a afro-caribbean woman, the pepper and I have a long standing love affair and anything less than extra hot just tastes like I’ve sprinkled some Tabasco on my food which is a complete waste of time! My stomach lining is made of lead. Or at least it was until that afternoon.
The heartburn was the first indication that something was amiss. It built up in the lower half of my throat with such furor that I could barely speak loud enough to wake my daughter up when it was time to get off the train. I just tapped her repeatedly in a panic and pulled her to the door as my eyes watered from the pain and I silently calculated whether I should stop off for some plain yoghurt or make it home before putting out the fire in my body.
We made it home but I was left incapacitated, writhing in pain on my bed as every organ from my oesophagus south rebelled against my Nandos lunch. The beautifully spiced Nigerian jollof rice and chicken stew I’d had the night before probably not making things any better either.
That night was spent writhing in agony as my kidneys rebelled and I made silent bargains to the Powers That Be to end the pain in return for me living a virtuous and altruistic life. My pleas weren’t answered so I’m guessing its fine to carry on with the lifestyle I have right?
So it turns out that acid indegestion is much worse than the Gaviscon adverts would have you believe. Or maybe it’s a special kind that only jollof rice and a peri-peri chicken chaser can conjur up. There was no chest holding like the commercials would have you believe, just full blown tears, tummy holding and prayers. Perhaps that wouldn’t make for good tv though? I don’t know…
What I do know is that today is going to be spent eating yoghurt and drinking ginger tea. Will I be having another cheeky Nandos any time soon? Yup probably. But maybe I’ll stick to a medium spice… this lead lined tummy isn’t what it used to be!