Kay Kay’s

Kay Kay’s

I love that feeling you get when you’ve been really hungover but are starting to recover. You’ve got through the crushing nausea and the headache. The shakes have abated and the only things you have to worry about are the vague sense of guilt and regret, and that insatiable hunger that makes you want to consume everything that’s put in front of you.

That’s the state we’re in when we set out from E-8te Towers as the sun is setting on the Sunday evening after Nat’s birthday, in search of sustenance. First choice was the Chinese right next door, but it was shut; as was the other one further up the road. Their loss we thought – surely Sunday evening is primetime for hungover hipsters in need of grease.

So we found ourselves outside the Jamaican takeaway Kay Kay’s (which we had wanted to go to in the first place, but their phone hadn’t been answered when we tried calling so we’d assumed they were shut). They were open but just seem not to go to the trouble of picking up the phone. They also apparently don’t bother having any staff to take our order as the shop is completely deserted when we walk in. It’s still deserted 15 minutes later after we’ve browsed the whole menu and appreciated the amazing flyers for various nights taking place in terrifying clubs in Tottenham over the next few weeks. Eventually, someone emerges and informs us that basically everything that we want to eat is off tonight.

Despite this, we manage to order a selection of stuff and have to retired to the pub next door to wait. And wait. And wait. In the end, we pick up our food more than an hour after we first left the house – fast food this ain’t.

Getting the grub home and it becomes apparent that we have massively over ordered in our hungover state. Starters include various deep-friend monstrosities – dumplings, plantain and some sort of fritter that I can’t remember ordering (although I am sure we did order some salt cod fritters, which failed to materialise).  Each one of the starters that did arrive is stodgy and greasy and not massively satisfying or tasty. The dumplings are a point in case – they are basically footballed-sized and so dense that Iestyn struggles to cut through one. This is food to fill you up when there are few other options, rather than food for pleasure.

 

In that sense, they do their job, as we’re already basically completely full by the time we get to our goat curry with rice and peas. Which turns out to be a good thing as it’s not great; tough meat is has to be picked out from the huge quantity of bones, and the sauce is more oil than flavour.

Nat’s fried chicken is better. But only slightly. It is at least flavourful. What it isn’t is much better than something you’d get from KFC – which might have been a better option for us as we battled the last of our hangovers and settled  down to the next film in our Nic Cage Sunday marathon (Faceoff since you ask). The fact that we couldn’t finish any of the food, even in our hungover state, speaks volumes for how much Kay Kay’s disappointed.