There was a time when eating out in Lagos was an event. You made plans, picked a restaurant, dressed accordingly and probably knew what you were ordering before you got there. Eating at home was simply what happened on all the other days.

Now, dinner has become a little more complicated.

We eat out because we want to see people, order in because Lagos traffic has defeated us, cook because restaurant prices have become difficult to ignore, and invite friends over because sometimes the best table in town is your own. There are even evenings when you cook the main meal and order dessert because, frankly, nobody needs to prove anything.

The question is no longer simply, what are we eating? It is: where are we eating it?

Home still has a very strong case. Some of the best food we eat will never appear on a restaurant menu. There is Sunday rice when everybody is around, stew that has been allowed to simmer properly, soup made exactly the way you grew up eating it and those slightly random meals assembled from whatever is left in the fridge that somehow turn out brilliantly.

Cooking for yourself also means control. You know how much pepper you like, how soft the meat should be, whether you want your plantain properly brown rather than politely golden and, importantly, exactly what went into the pot. There is comfort in that familiarity.

Then again, cooking comes with chopping, blending, frying, cleaning and the inevitable discovery that the one ingredient you really need finished yesterday.

Which is why Lagos restaurants remain tempting.

The city has become increasingly serious about dining. There are restaurants, cafés, lounges, hotel dining rooms, supper clubs and smaller chef-led spaces catering to almost every mood. Eating out is no longer reserved for birthdays and anniversaries. It is where we have meetings, dates, brunch with friends, family lunches and the occasional Tuesday dinner simply because nobody feels like going home yet.

And sometimes, being served is worth the money. After a long day, there is genuine pleasure in sitting down, ordering what you want and knowing that the plates will eventually disappear without your involvement.

The problem, of course, is the bill.

A good dinner out in Lagos can require some financial preparation. Once drinks, VAT, service charges and everything else have joined the table, that innocent meal for two can suddenly look like a minor investment. This is usually the point when you begin mentally walking through the supermarket aisles, calculating how much food the same money would have bought.

And nothing hurts quite like an expensive meal that was merely okay.

If the food is excellent, the service thoughtful and the atmosphere worth leaving home for, you can make peace with the bill. But paying heavily and leaving hungry, irritated or wondering what exactly the service charge was servicing can make your own kitchen look extremely attractive.

Perhaps that explains why entertaining at home has become appealing again. Instead of trying to secure a large restaurant table, people are inviting friends over, ordering trays from favourite vendors, bringing in caterers or private chefs, or simply cooking themselves.

There is something wonderfully intimate about it. You choose the food, music and guest list. Nobody is hovering because they need the table back. You can open your own wine, serve ridiculous portions and stay talking until somebody remembers they have work in the morning.

It also suits our natural instinct for hospitality. A Nigerian host rarely believes you have eaten enough the first time. There will be another spoonful. Someone will ask why your plate is empty. And if the evening has gone particularly well, there may be a takeaway pack pressed into your hands before you leave.

Of course, technology has introduced another contender: delivery.

Now you can have restaurant food without the restaurant. On a rainy evening or after two hours in traffic, this can feel like one of civilisation’s better ideas. Until the fries arrive limp, the food is lukewarm and you realise delivery and additional charges have somehow added the price of another meal to your order.

So perhaps there is no winner.

Some food simply tastes better at home. Some restaurants are worth dressing up and crossing Lagos for. Sometimes the occasion deserves a beautiful table and excellent service; sometimes what you really need is hot food, an oversized T-shirt and your own sofa.

And sometimes, despite all our talk about ambience, convenience, experience and value for money, the final decision is much less sophisticated.

What is in the fridge? How bad is traffic? And, most importantly, who is washing the pots?

Spice, Smoke and Story is a food column by Funke Babs-Kufeji, telling her love story for cooking and food in Nigeria, while exploring everything from restaurant reviews and recipes to fine dining, hosting, and the culture that shapes how we eat.