The Love of Chicken Brought Us Here

Because fried chicken and liberty go together

There's a new KFC-style fried chicken fast food restaurant in town - right here on Randall Street. Nope, this is not a pulling-your-leg-Starbucks-is-across-the-farmer's-Co-Op stunt. It's bright and shiny and it's called Monroe Chicken. You can check out the pics below.

Perhaps the most interesting bit about it is its tag line: "The Love of Chicken Brought Us Here." That is FUNNY. It's not just silly funny, it's clever funny. 

I have been working on my new company logo and branding for the past couple of months so I find it wildly original. It's a hilarious play on Liberia's motto. 

And I shouldn't think it should ruffle any national feathers - no pun intended. Monroe Chicken is respectful of Liberia's fabricated and bizarre identity and history.  Everything about  the place is steeped in it - the motto, the colours, the red and white stripes, the lonestar, and the picture of Monroe. Gosh, it almost looks American.

So you get a bit of ironic history and some tasty fried chicken. What else do you need? And like I said before, the place is new and shiny.

And LORD KNOWS, we need new and shiny things here in shabby Monrovia. What's more, this is good for business - more business is good for business.

Earl Grey seals the deal

The cabinet piece in my office is actually my former china cabinet. Now it is full of files instead of dinner plates and platters. It still works. 

You will notice though that I still have a bar in it - in fact, if you notice, it houses drinks as well as my stash of Earl Grey tea which friends so generously bring me each they are in the UK.

I look forward to signing really big deals, like million-dollar ones, in my very nice and cozy office. And we could seal them over a good solid drink. 

Well I did make a nice deal the other day that sort of came unexpectedly. That one was sealed over Earl Grey and Digestive biscuits though. 


So yes, there's those kind of deals, too. Earl Grey ones. 

Book Club

A book club is a good idea in theory but difficult to implement especially if there are book snobs like me in it. Or if someone thinks the only books worth reading are those by Jeffrey Archer. Or if people think you're kind of crazy because you can STILL relate to Holden Caulfield even though you are no longer a teenager. (So I still have teenage angst in me, sue me!)

I really do have determined ideas about A Good Book and a Bad Book That Can Never Be Considered Literature. And I get really worked up about it, too. 

Some people only really like a particular story if they can relate to the protagonist or the context. Well not many of us can relate to having become obsessed with a black cat to the point of offing it or hearing the imaginary heartbeat of a corpse hidden underneath the floorboards thundering in your guilty ears when the police come round to investigate, but still, Edgar Allan Poe's macabre mad-man-first-person stories are thrilling. 

I love reading for all kinds of reasons: escape, language, boredom, re-living my childhood and so on. I LOVE reading. 


I do not have to relate to a character really but all good literature has a human element to it which allows you to relate, allows you to empathise, to imagine and place yourself in that character or situation. I think so. 

So a few friends have started a book club and we had our first reading from Catcher in the Rye. It was really interesting to see everyone's reaction to this cult classic. Some people like it, others don't. And that's perfectly OK - yes, I kind of realise that, I kind of concede this point. A bit grudgingly. 

Moving on, moving on....

The second book on the list is Wolf Hall and looks like a juicy read.  

Halloween at the Darzi's

The Halloween party where we went was not so much fun as were the Halloween preparations that we subjected ourselves to. 

The last time I wore a costume to a Halloween thing was back in 7th grade (ASB, Bucharest, Romania). So, here I was in 2010 participating in some Halloween fun. 


During our usual evening walk, H and I started kidding around about what we would wear to a Halloween party at one of the local establishments. We were not even planning on going nor indulging in costumes but we got excited as we walked and started tossing ideas about. Naturally, I came up with all the brilliant ideas such as draping ourselves with white sheets and pretending to be ghosts. 

If H will tell the story now, he will pretend he came up with the brilliant idea but readers, beware, it was my idea! 

So we shortened our regular grueling walk and made a detour to Benson Street where they have all the tailoring shops. We entered the first one we saw. 

So there we were, a couple of sweaty desi's overwhelming a small and modest darzi ki dukaan. H excitedly explained his (no, mine!) brilliant Halloween costume idea to the Madame of the shop. She had a quizzical look on her face wondering why we wanted to waste perfectly good silky white material by sewing a shapeless rucksack to put over our heads. But she and the tailor were amused and went ahead and sewed some not-so-scary-looking white capes for us in less than an hour. 

While waiting for the costumes, I had a good time chatting to the Madame, her name was Mariam and she took a liking to me, offering me a free soft drink and asking me about my nose ring. 


My noise ring is such a conversation piece. I am glad my mother made me get one when I was still a teenager. 


I also played with her little girls. 

Here is a couple of pictures of our adventures in the darzi ki dukaan. 

When we finally got to the Halloween event itself, I felt too claustrophic in my ghost costume and H only wore it for a few minutes. We were pretty bored afterwards - I think we had over excited ourselves during the preparations and everything else after that was anti-climatic. We had a drink and sat about watching the merriment around us and left shortly.