No such thing as free dinner? Plenty to chew on

Work ended early one Friday evening. I was wondering where to go when an Eritrean friend texted me to ask if I would care to visit a restaurant in Sanlitun where I could sample food from northern, southern, western and eastern Africa. She added, for good measure, that "there will be injera", a famous flatbread from Ethiopia and Eritrea, where I had lived as a child.

Although I had already eaten dinner by 6:30 pm, "over capacity "wasn't on my mind as I looked at the poster my friend had sent. It listed, among other things: samosa, goat pepper soup, white fufu with okra, jollof with grilled chicken, lamb with yellow rice, coleslaw, cassava with kale, and an Afro mojito.

The poster screamed that it was "all free". I didn't think twice before, rather shamelessly, asking some of my friends to join me.

A European friend wondered if it was really free. "Maybe if I come, it's not free anymore," he laughed. A Chinese friend said it's too late, but realizing she was close to the place, decided to drop in. Another African friend said she would spend extra time on the treadmill before coming.

My Chinese friend arrived first and sent me photos of the food. It looked delicious, but didn't match the menu on the poster. I assumed those might be starters, but when I reached the venue, I realized she had gone to the wrong place. After she joined me, the waiter handed us the regular menu. It didn't list injera, so I asked him about it. He said if it is not on the menu, then they possibly don't have it. We decided to be modest and ordered just one dish each. When the waiter brought over a handheld payment device, I asked, hesitatingly, "Isn't this supposed to be free?"

"Oh, you have come for that, I see. Then please wait a while. The food is still on its way."

Soon, I saw them setting up a buffet table. My Chinese friend suddenly looked embarrassed. She thought it was OK for my Eritrean friend to invite me, but she, being a stranger, should not have rushed in for a "free" meal. My Eritrean friend arrived just then to put her at ease. Even the restaurant manager came to our table to ensure we were enjoying ourselves and requested we take some food home, too.

My Eritrean friend told me they had organized food for an event, but somehow a lot of food was left over. Not wanting to throw it away, they asked patrons to ask all their friends to come and enjoy it, for free.

My European friend was particularly happy, and said it was his first savory meal after gorging on cakes all day.

In the end, there was so much food, we took long pauses and talked after every bite to honor the message the country had sent a few years ago by launching an "empty your plate" campaign. I particularly appreciated seeing the hosts collect some leftover injera from our plates to keep aside for the guests they were still expecting. Because the bread was torn, those recipients would clearly know they were being served leftovers of leftovers.

Thinking of the many who are dying of starvation in Gaza and others who might be equally inconvenienced in other conflict zones, I felt it was a novel initiative undertaken by whoever thought of it and should be replicated by more restaurants and individuals.