Amie's African Kitchen & Grill — Restaurant in Dallas

If I brought my mother to this place, she would immediately say, "Asisukeni lap ha ngeke sidle endaweni engcolileyo kanje.”

I recently visited this restaurant and, unfortunately, had a less than ideal experience. As someone from Zimbabwe, I was really hoping for a genuine and well-maintained African dining experience, but this place fell short in a few key areas.

First and foremost, the location was unfortunate. The cleanliness left much to be desired, and the restaurant appeared to be cutting corners in that department. There was noticeable filth, and it gave an overall sense that the establishment wasn’t prioritizing hygiene as it should. I was surprised, as I’ve seen many African restaurants maintain a much higher standard of cleanliness.

Additionally, not all of the food options that were advertised on the menu were available. The food itself was disappointing – it didn’t quite capture the authentic flavors I was expecting. For the price you’re paying, I would’ve thought the quality would be much better. You’re essentially paying around $20 for food that would taste about the same and probably be cheaper at places like Panda Express. The food wasn’t bad, but it was certainly average and didn’t live up to the experience I was hoping for.

Another thing to note was the lack of prices on the menu, which was frustrating. Transparency is important, especially when you’re spending money at a place that may not be up to par in other areas.

It’s a shame, because I would’ve expected better representation of African cuisine and culture here. With a little more attention to detail and care, this restaurant could be a much more...

This meal didn’t feed me. It claimed me.

Oxtail: Fall-apart tender. So rich, so flavorful, I’m convinced someone’s grandma put their entire soul into the pot and whispered ancient incantations while it simmered. I blacked out mid-bite and woke up with better credit. Jollof Rice: Smoky. Sensual. Slightly dangerous. This rice gave main character energy and a little side-eye, like “you sure you deserve this?” No. I don’t. But it let me taste greatness anyway. Fufu: The perfect partner in crime. Soft, stretchy, and ready to scoop like it’s on a mission from the gods. Forks were judged. Spoons were banished. Hands only, like nature and the ancestors intended. Egusi Stew: You don’t eat egusi. You submit to it. This stew came for my throat, my soul, and my rent money. Nutty, spicy, comforting chaos. It clung to the fufu like it had abandonment issues and I was honored to be the third wheel. Final Thoughts: I would sell state secrets for another plate. I would betray a nation. I would lie under oath. And I’d do it again. Happily. Because THIS was holy. THIS was war. THIS...

This business is very unprofessional from the employees to the manager. I’ve ordered twice from this restaurant and some of the items were not available. They didn’t have a common courtesy to call and communicate that some items were out of stock. Instead they substituted the item for something else without notifying the customer. Then when I called to ask why wasn’t I given what I ordered, they stated, “we tried to call you”, but the truth is they don’t call. Common courtesy clearly nonexistent at this facility. Their food is also depreciating in quality. After a careful consideration, I’ve come to a conclusion of no longer supporting this business due to their disrespect and no regards...