Is AFG open?
AFG has a loyal fanbase. Source: Elsie Williams.
As inflation hits Aotearoa, housing prices continue to rise, and winter approaches, there is something special in Ōtautahi which can allow you to forget all problems over a simple meal. Three dishes, no bookings, nearly twenty-five thousand followers, and with no set hours, AFG walks to the beat of its own drum, and people make the effort to get there every time.
Nearly a decade ago, two loyal AFG fanatics noticed the abnormal opening hours of the restaurant as they biked home from work. Navigating an alternative route to identify the hours, they created a Facebook group designated for the opening of the beloved restaurant, called ‘IS AFG OPEN?’
With the possibility of waiting in lines for up to two hours, AFG’s loyal customers commit to the sacrifice for a meal to be thoroughly enjoyed. For only $21 per head, head chef Abdul overcompensates with the size of his meals, delivering three plates of finger-licking goodness.
The chef himself does not spend his time dealing with the tens of thousands of members in the Facebook group. Instead, a beloved associate known as ‘Quad Bear’ liaises with the eager customers.
I took it upon myself to investigate.
My nerves began to linger as I built up the courage to post on the page; I feared that not adhering to the page’s rules would leave me victim to the community’s amusement. To my delight, the iconic Quad Bear responded promptly, saying “[y]es miss, open at 5:30,” with a smiley face.
After joining this page in early 2023, I’ve noticed a few aspects that make it unique. It reminds me of the Barbie monologue about being a woman. You have to join the FB page to know whether it’s open, but you can’t expect it’ll be open when you need. You need to ask Quad Bear if it’s open, but don’t ask before 11am. You can ask before 11am, but it’s likely you’re going to get a sassy comment from a regular.
If you’re unsure, ask the question, but don’t expect that other members will attend to your question politely. Doors open at 5:30 – but good luck getting your food within the hour. Yes, the meals are large, but you do not share one meal between two. You say how many people are eating and Abdul takes the reins.
My tummy began to rumble as I envisioned the sensation of trying the food for the first time. Would 5pm be too early? But if I went any later, I feared I may be there for over an hour.
Unforeseen circumstances made the decision for me.
Much to my disappointment, my partner and I had run out of petrol in the middle of nowhere, and we had to wait three hours for AA to bring us enough to make it to the nearest service station. I started to come to terms with the fact that my AFG experience was near impossible.
Convinced my article was going to go bust, I had admitted defeat. But we got on the road after three hours, with an ETA of 7:20, two hours after they opened.
The satisfaction was much sweeter when I realised there was next to no line.
After insufficiently reading the Facebook page, I stood around for a while before people behind me sat themselves down and told a man how many people were eating. It appeared to be a ‘rule’ that I had missed, so I nervously sat myself down and gestured towards the mysterious man who seemed to organise the diners.
The mystery man, Jay, gave us the nod and I took a seat wherever I could find room, which meant sharing a table with other people. The room buzzed with a good community feel. The saucy, spicy salad had the fresh goodness of olives, jalapenos, lettuce, and cucumber, drenched in zappy sauces.
We were then served with the largest bowl of rice and chicken-and-lamb kebab that I had ever laid my eyes on. To be completely transparent, the images I’d discovered on the page hadn’t convinced me. But once the aromas hit my nose and the flavours hit my tongue, the chatter ground to a halt and the food was shovelled at a fast pace. A curry similar to butter chicken flooded the bowl, filled with succulent drumsticks.
AFG is known for generous portion sizes. Source: Elsie Williams.
Passion for AFG’s meals has inspired creativity throughout the online community. Some write poems for Abdul and his food; others write long, complimentary descriptions of the meals whilst asking if it is open; some have made charts on the likelihood of the opening after thorough investigation. I feel inspired to write a song about the experience I had just had.
It’s so intimate that it’s almost uncomfortable at first, until you realise the beauty of such a cosy experience. The ‘hostess’ per se, Jay, sat right beside me with a luminous smile, and we engaged in a brief conversation.
The whole environment felt like a warm hug from a family member – the kind of place you’d go for a good meal when you’re feeling a bit down. After paying $42 for an enormous meal, we left with two full takeaway containers as well as protruding stomachs, feeling fulfilled and gracious for the experience. Jay shook our hands as we left, telling us that if we continue to be happy, we will be so strong in life.
As I stepped out onto the bustling streets of Ōtautahi, the taste of AFG still lingering on my palate, I felt a wave of contentment wash over me. Despite the challenges of getting there and the uncertainty of its opening hours, the experience was more than worth it.
AFG isn't just a restaurant; it's a community, a place where strangers become friends over a shared love of Afghan cuisine. As I walked away, I know that I’ve experienced something truly special, which would stay with me long after the last bite was gone.