The Nandos Health Service

Everyone seems to love Nandos. This makes actually writing about the place a health hazard, so violent would the backlash be from a negative piece. On the potential-trouble gauge used by Felix writers it is only topped by ‘Doing a Review of the Rector’s Face’. The situation for me is even more risky, living as I do with one flatmate who would inject peri-peri sauce into his veins if he could, and two others who would happily settle for just showering in it.

But I can deal with them. What I can’t deal with is the 20% discount Nandos gives to NHS staff. Is this some kind of unspoken governmental policy to attract workers to the NHS? Or is Nandos just positioning itself alongside Health as a pillar of Britain; along with Education, Military and Stephen Fry? Now I don’t doubt that the discount leads to fewer deaths at the hands of distracted, spicy-chicken-craving nurses. But the underlying message is clear: Nandos is not merely a popular high-street eatery, but a cog in the machinery of society itself.

Under this kind of pressure it’s almost easier to crack and just rip Nandos apart. I could be the cool, counterculture hipster who is, like, so not mainstream in his culinary taste. Or the broadsheet food critic who judges restaurants against strange, metaphysical standards against which the actual food is too crass to consider.

Instead I ate at Nandos as just my normal awesome self. Being a thorough professional, I went three days in a row, and consulted with Nasif Mahmood and Ali Kirresh, the famed Nandos Gurus. I visited both the Bayswater and Shepherd’s Bush branches, and consumed in total about two whole chickens, a loaf’s worth of garlic bread, a truckload of chips and enough per-peri powder to be locked up for substance abuse. And you know what? You can definitely have too much of a good thing.

You can definitely have too much of a good thing. Or so I’ve heard

Or so I’ve heard. Personally I’d go again right now if I could because Nandos. Is. Delicious.

Like, crazy tasty. I hardly need to whip out the ol’ palette of adjectives, as few reading this will need any description of the succulent, flame-grilled taste that Nandos has down pat. I might as well describe the colour red. Less well-known are the accessories to a meal that are available; the spicy ‘perinaise’, the creamy mashed potato, the veggie pita mains and the choc-a-lot cake dessert (‘lovely’ according to my sauce-injecting flatmate). Personally, I favour the frozen yoghurt machine due to my chronic, debilitating dairy addiction (don’t forget to play the who-can-bite-into-a-spoonful-of-frozen-yoghurt-for-the-longest game!).

But the chicken is the thing, and that distinctive flavour has its own legacy.

For a start the peri-peri powder and sauce is actually made from the African Bird’s Eye Chilli of Mozambique. This was a fiery revelation to the Portuguese community that settled there, who later headed to South Africa during the 20th Century gold rush, their spicy-chicken recipes in tow. Still serving said recipes in 1987 was a place called Chickenland in Johannesburg, which was bought by two impressed businessmen and renamed Nandos after one of their names (FerNANDO LOLZ!). Oh and apparently ‘peri-peri’, as legend has it, was a Portuguese boy’s mispronunciation of the much loved chilli called ‘pili-pili’ in Swahili. Good man.

Frankly, if it was found out that Nandos chicken was flame-grilled in the fires of hell by the devil himself, people would still go

I can confirm none of this. But frankly, if it was found out that Nandos chicken was flame-grilled in the fires of hell by the devil himself, people would still go. They’d feel bad and all, they’d ‘Like’ the Facebook groups made to argue against the insensitivity of using Satan as a spokesman and all that, but guiltily they’d still go and choose Nandos chicken and Nandos comfort.

Because that comfortable atmosphere is something to be reckoned with.

Do not underestimate the joy in being able to pick your own sauces, and stand them on the table like glass totems erected in honour of your spice-hardiness. Nor undervalue the way you order food in units of chicken (1/4, ½ or whole), thereby removing the embarrassing eating-out guessing game of which of the strange foreign words will actually give the biggest portion. And certainly do not ignore the primal pleasure of eating with your hands in a rustic, wood-craft environment, tapping into deep psychological wells of warmth and homeliness.

These are what define the Nandos experience, as much as the food itself. It is wondrous alchemy, a combination of small things that combine to make a reliably good eat-out.

But what really makes Nandos the jewel in the high-street crown, is the variety of people who actually eat out at this eat-out. Does any other restaurant chain have as wide an appeal? Black guys visit because it’s like the spicy Jerk Chicken they love (Well, Chipmunk says so) whilst health-conscious business yuppies go because grilled chicken fits in with their protein regime. Children adore the bottomless DIY drinks, teens treat it like a trendy upgrade of the fried-chicken shops they are used to and Pakistani families like the Halal meat used in over 50 of the 233 UK Nandos restaurants.

Correction: Pakistanis love the Halal meat. As a Birmingham-born-an’-raised (half-) Pakistani I actually lived through a major culinary revolution caused by Nandos. Whilst previously the average British Muslim’s experience of mainstream chains was an intimate knowledge of McDonald’s fillet-o-fish, the opening of a halal Nandos in the Pakistani-packed Star City complex in Birmingham created a fervour never seen before or since. Whole communities would flock to the branch en masse as if practising for pilgrimage. People would revel in being able to eat the non-vegetarian option at a bona-fide non-Asian restaurant. Wizened elders could drench their chips in Extra-Hot and just pretend it was an alloo curry whilst second generation youngsters could join in their office socials without having to get their meat fix from the kebab shop on the way home. And though everyone from KFC to GBK have now jumped on the halal band-wagon, it is their original saviour they remain most loyal to.

As far as high street chains go, Nandos is a success. It has sunk into the British palate slowly and steadily, without compromising its reliably high quality, high-taste food. Most importantly, it is a success enjoyed by all, and one hard to begrudge when the service is so friendly and its loyalty card is so rewarding.

As I started; everyone seems to love Nandos. And so they should.

P.S. I am aware of the debate over whether Nando’s chicken counts as Halal by proper criteria, but have yet to investigate. This article is in no way an endorsement of Nandos’ Halal-ility, only its deliciosity.