Accepting Compromise In The Clubhouse

Abuja is a city of many talents, by my considerable standards and that of many it remains the flagship city of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. No doubt as they read this, many of the Lagosians will bite on iron and swear that theirs is the best city on the living planet, bear in mind that many of the lads and friends that have visited me here in the capital from Lagos remark on how peaceful (before they who should not be mentioned became resident) and well-kept the city was, and in their moments of clarity many of them wished that their jobs or family would relocate them to the capital.


Of course they have since returned to Lagos and have inhaled the smog that is Lagos air, and naturally they have taken leave of their senses (I no yab una o!) and will now swear that Gidi is the best. This debate between Lagos and Abuja can rage forever, admittedly there are many fine things about Eko, dynamic leadership, a city that never sleeps, vibrant entrepreneurs and equally vibrant social life, the sea, and that Lagos mentality where everyone is wiser than his neighbour often leading to the general state where no one is wise at all.


But Abuja is for the cultured man, nothing is rushed or hastened, because we generally understand that quality and good decisions take time, the city works at everyone’s individual pace or pulse. If you want the city to go fast for you, it will and if you need it to crawl, it is just as likely to do that. If you live in Ibadan please remain silent, this debate is for town dwellers.


For all the sophistication of the capital, one thing that it has constantly failed to do, is  offer a decent serving of milkshake, make no mistake, it does try but somewhere between throwing peak powder milk in with ice cream, or in some cases with yoghourt it fails woefully. It has now become a pet project of mine to order it wherever I see it appear on the menu, holding out hope that, that one time, someone would hit the mark.


It was no different when I spotted the choice on the menu of The Clubhouse, my default setting is to order it and then select the meal later and this is exactly what I did. The Clubhouse is located in  Life Camp of Abuja City, and while technically no one location in the Capital is too far from the other, Life Camp automatically gives you the sense that is deliberately removed from everywhere else.
This might have to do with the fact that most of the senior management of construction giants like Julius Berger, Gilmor and their ilk reside in this part of town. Abuja is a manmade city, this is a noted fact, and is forever in a state of development, to live in this city is to be constantly aware that a new road might appear tomorrow, new headquarters for yet another government agency will spring forth, but Life Camp allows a sense of finish and calm, I have never heard any ruckus or disturbance anytime I have been there, and this might not be an accurate measure for it overall but Gwarimpa is easy. Like Sunday Morning. I paid Lionel Richie for that, I swear, he didn’t want money so I bought him Petals hair relaxer. True Story.

Coincidentally it was a Sunday morning, and the idyllic nature of  Life Camp is the perfect setting for The Clubhouse which is a little cut-out of paradise, it features a little botanical space complete with swings and jungle gym for the children, it also has a pool that is actually used by patrons, unlike some other establishments I have reviewed (sneezes: Blue Elephant). The pool also allows patrons to dine al fresco, and while it became clear upon arrival that regulars of the restaurant were disproportionately Lesbianese, there was also a fine cross-section of the indigenous.

One such family was sitting by the pool, four little ladies, their mother with the skin of a Greek cruise ship waitress and the father, who’s build would easily qualifying him for the protective services, but whose scowl assured you he had once made a living standing on street corners selling drugs; like Benylin, Strepsil, Flucodin, Tylenol and the rest.

The moment of truth eventually arrived and the milkshake was presented to me, it was chocolate flavoured and while the menu has promised me a mug, I was given a glass. I took the initial sip. It wasn’t a milkshake, I took another sip, and I was now certain what I was drinking was not a milkshake. I took yet another sip, at which point I was able to confidently ascertain that what I had just being served was indeed the famed milo ground with a lot of milk and ice.

What! The audacity! The sheer chutzpah of the waiter and the bar man! I summoned the waiter, and couldn’t wait to let him have a piece of my mind, and when he arrived…………..I simply ordered another glass.

The truth is I don’t care what he had put in that glass, and yes Abuja is still hopeless at serving milkshakes; whatever they concocted was simply delicious and I wanted in. The second class of their compromise arrived, just in time for the Entrée, which included shrimp salad, Baba Ghanoush, Grilled Cheese Sticks and Cream of Chicken soup. It was a full table of friends, all of whom have made at least one guest experience on the consummate experience.

Word to the wise, if you are preparing to have a full meal, do not get zealous with an energy food beverage beforehand. I clearly marked a corner of the table, where I landed the plate of chicken soup and went to work. And while it didn’t have the thickness I am usually accustomed to, it made for that in richness, and it was a very generous portion. I order this soup almost every other review, so at that point I was on autopilot and the engines had begun to fail. I had gorged myself on the compromise-shake and was beginning to suffer the effects.

As I deflected the chiding of my colleagues on the table I looked up to the heavens from whence cometh my help, and noticed that while the interior decorating for the clubhouse wasn’t elaborate, it was easy to miss the finer details; such as the roof being supported by massive tree trunks, or pillars encased in a tree trunk. I am not an architect so I cannot speak to how it was done, but added to the botanical space outside it was clear they were going for an organic feel.

By the time my mind and eyes wondered back to the table, my main dish had arrived Chicken Scallopini and the portion was generous. In retrospect, I suppose I could have just asked them to take-it-away for me, but I soldiered on even in the face of apparent discomfort, much like our First lady speaking English, a language she is not accustomed to……. Ok that was a cheap shot, I shouldn’t  malign the person of the First Lady like that…but I’d rather speak behind a person’s back than gossip about them………get it…….

Chicken Scallopini is a meal prepared from chicken breasts that is then drenched in lemon juice and sautéed with breadcrumbs. That is all I know of it, and I am sure it tasted great but I was already stuffed and was simply going through the motions. My meal was completed after a stretch, and after another stretch I pushed myself from the table and proceeded for the exit.

As we walked out, with me in discomfort, I wondered if this was how Atiku felt when he tried by force to win an election. Sometimes you have to know when to walk away……

The Clubhouse Resort is located the TAK Continental Estate in Gwarimpa, and can be reached on either of the following 0807-704-0404 or 0808-989-0700

Sidenote: Forgive the cheap swipes at notable figures, as we approach the 51^st year of our Independence as a country, there is precious little to do other than laugh. If you believe in God, take a moment to pray for our Country, Nigeria, we need it. On a lighter note, fine cuisine is nothing without fine wine, and I have been remiss in my duty in not including it in my reviews (no be my fault, wine cost for these places). Luckily a friend of the Consummate Experience has a fantastic place to get tips and recommendation on wine and can be accessed on http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100002258693175

Humble Beginning: My Foray Into Italy A La La Dolce Vita

I have always had a healthy appetite for cheese based meals, throw into the mix generous portions of meat- I am African- and we are in business!!! This informed my decision to begin my restaurant review at what I presumed was an Italian Restaurant. By the end of this review, you can make your own conclusion as to the definition of Italian. 

La Dolce Vita is located in the Wuse II District, Wuse II being a hybrid of the city’s penchant for the elaborate and its ability to recede to ordinary everyday Nigerian Life. La Dolce’s welcoming sign boldly displays that it is a Pizzeria, Bar & Restaurant.

Naturally when Pizzeria & Restaurant are in the same sentence, I assume Italian, in retrospect might not have been a fair assumption. I walked into the Plaza and the door was promptly opened for me by a man in a La Dolce t-shirt, - hmmmm good service, or the Oga Factor- hunger was wiring me (Insert Translation here: I was famished)

I rode the elevator three flights up- yes, if there is electricity and a functioning lift- exercise be damned. I opened the door of the restaurant and appeared in Narnia, ok seriously, I walked into the restaurant, and the first thing I was met with is the bar & the decor. The bar is complete with stools and lighting, almost like the decorator was trying to throw you into a vortex taking you back to the rat-pack era, Sinatra et al, still not decided if this is a good thing, as Chuks and Secondus behind the bar weren’t properly attired to lend to the theme.

Having said that the eponymous restaurant gets its name from the legendary movie La Dolce Vita, so expect to see a lot of movie memorabilia and movie posters, this works well for the Lounge which is thinly separated from the dining area with thin multi-coloured veils curtains. Honestly standing on the other side, you half expect to see Cleopatra make an entrance. Light Bulb moment, A restaurant Called Narnia with Egyptian Belly Dancers (Copyright, or Intellectual Property, meaning I will Sue if such a restaurant becomes reality without me on the payroll somehow)

Ehen, so I sat down at my table, there was no table for a two person- dinner, either the owner was looking to maximise space or s/he grew up with many brothers/sisters and one calabash. The Four person table was covered in red-white chequered table cloth, reminiscent of something in small town Italy, it worked. Akpan forgot to clean the table because there were still ashes from the previous occupants; there is no distinction for smoking or non-smoking section. Nor can there be, the dining area isn’t that big.

I ordered Mushroom Soup as a starter and Spaghetti Carbona with a Glass of Sangiovese Red Italy of course, to wash it down- from a waiter who didn’t provide his name or a smile, like the others I have named here; I’d like to imagine his name is Paulinus. Yes, yes, let’s call him that. Paulinus didn’t display any familiarity with his menu, and wasn’t able to provide me with a chef’s special. Asking for a sommelier after my conversation with Paulinus, would have just been cruel. The menu was limited as far as I see it, if you are going to go Italian, you cannot leave out Linguini, Ravioli or Lasagna, and what the hell is Goat Pepper Soup doing on the menu!!!! The Pizza section was extensive

So after ordering my starter at 19:26 it arrived ten minutes later, I am stickler for good mushroom soup, and when I have it in La Dolce Vita I will let you know. (Shout out to Blue Elephant in Port Harcourt) It was more onion than mushroom, and what it lacked for in quality and composition it made up for in volume. The Chef’s application of cream here was the equivalent of wearing perfume, hair gel and deodorant, it smelled nice but the body was dry and inelastic.

Did I finish it, Yes ke! Of course I did, there is a higher principle here, and children are starving the world over. After the abortion that was my soup, the redeemer lay in the main course, now the way I figure if you serve Italian you can’t go wrong with pasta right? Wrong!

See, I have had eye trouble in the past, but I am quite confident that what I was served wasn’t pasta/spaghetti but a superhero version of the Nigerian Staple Indomie Noodles. (Someone alert De United Foods to sue for False Representation? Someone? Anyone?)

I say superhero because the noodles looked decidedly more bulky and it almost seemed to shimmer in the hot moist, bath of steam it was served with, but it was not Pasta or Spaghetti and the bacon bits resembled large chunks of pork fried into a metallic state ( it was some sort of meat, so no beef there! All puns intended). In the mix with what I can only hope was celery, was something akin to semi-liquid bits of Peak Milk, I was assured it was intended to be egg bits, as if that somehow would assuage me!! Milk  eggs in a Carbona Dish!!

If it looked suspicious it tasted even more suspect, the Parmesan Cheese I sprinkled on it was all I could do to avoid the greasy slippery taste of 419 down my throat, sigh! And yes I finished the meal as well, is it your money?? But before then I had to balance the need for a review & hunger VS possible food poisoning, it would seem in the end my visa to Italy had been granted but I ended up in Hades. The wine was just right, not saying much you can hardly go wrong with red.

I finished the meal and walked out desolate, N5600 short and with the cold metallic taste of regret down my throat all by 20:00. In the end La Dolce Vita has a good thing going, nice crowd, ambience, it should however upgrade Chuks, Secondus & Paulinus and fire the Chef! Ok that seems a bit harsh, all that is needed is for two plates of Italian Cuisine to be placed in front of Le-Cheat Chef Conman, person, One plate of Original Italian Cuisine and the other his own misadventurous drivel. After a taste of the original, and his own submission, he will promptly run out the kitchen, through the dinner area, out the lounge onto the Rooftop Terrace and jump. Case solved.

On my way out a new crowd of what was apparently British Citizens came in for a meal, I left with a grin confident that someone else would be looking at the definition of Italian that night.

La Dolce Vita Restaurant is located at Safire Plaza 1066 Ademola Adetokunbo Crescent, Wuse II, Abuja.

Phone Number: +234 (0)8057828087

                           +234(0)7040045579

** Sidenote: I Apologise for not having visuals here, I didn't take a camera with me, lest Secondus show me his second side (Couldn't help it) and I have recently had my blackberries accosted, and it is my sincere wish that e no go better for who carry am (Translation: The thief will experience displeasure and discomfort)

It should be noted that La Dolce Vita hosts Karoke on Friday Nights and it promises to be good fun.