Piccolo Mondo
(Italian/Lebanese/Night Club)
Idejo, Victoria Island
One of the restaurants in Lagos with which I am currently conducting a love affair is Piccolo Mondo, though it would be fair to say that our honeymoon is over and that we’re slowly getting a little sick of each other. Piccolo Mondo, like Roberts, is yet another one of my homes away from home. Perhaps the comfort is in the high-backed armchairs in bright colours ranging from dark pink to lime green with neon swirls? Or in the friendly banter with their brilliant team of very capable waiters? I’m not sure. Whatever it is, it is clearly not something that is felt by me alone, as Piccolo (well upstairs at least) is consistently full, even on a Monday night when most people are to be found at home, mourning the fact that the weekend is 5 days away.
On Monday at Piccolo, I faced a tough decision. The fettucine pesto or the pennete al salmone? At least I think that’s what they’re called. I couldn’t decide what I was in the mood for. Cream? Or cream with a bucket load of pesto thrown in for good measure?
The pennete al salmone is penne pasta, cooked to perfection (just a little softer than al dente), smothered in a creamy, lightly cheesy sauce and topped (very generously I might add) with salmon and onions. I think it is perfection! The formula never changes, and it is exactly the same each time.
The fettucine pesto on the other hand is a little more temperamental. Some days the ratio of pesto to cream is just fantastic, and the diner is presented with a deliciously moist plate of flat (but not thin) fettucine, covered in grainy, dark green cream (because the chef has been oh so generous with his dollops of pesto). And on other days, the diner’s bright red bucket (those things are neither bowls nor plates) comes bearing thin, awkward noodles interspersed with pale (and almost invisible) green flecks, that all the helpings of parmesan in the world couldn’t turn into a decent plate of pasta.
With all this running through my mind on Monday, you can no doubt imagine that the decision I had to make, was killing me softly. I was clearly in the mood for cream (heck I’m always in the mood for cream) or else I would’ve been looking to the deep fried calamari as my friend Olu was. But what I wasn’t in the mood for, was mediocre pasta. I wanted the fettucine pesto, but the fettucine at its absolute best! The little piggy in my head was teasing and taunting me, “go with the salmon pasta, you know they won’t mess that up, but… oh! the fettucine on a good day is so much more wonderful!”
The waiter arrived, and I did something I haven’t done in a while – I took a gamble and went for the fettucine. Ok it wasn’t exactly a gamble, as my friend Rukks had settled on the salmon pasta and so I knew I would be able to just lean over and dip my fork into her plate if I ended up with Grade D as opposed to Grade A fettucine.
The wait is never long at Piccolo, and so fortunately not much time was spent wringing my hands in anticipation. My huge bowl arrived shortly afterwards, and what did I find nestled within? Fettucine... just as I had dreamt it would be! Delicious, creamy, grainy pesto, making sweet sweet (and very generous) love to a helping of perfectly-cooked fettucine pasta.
Bellissima!
P.S. Did I mention that I had a caipirinha with my pasta, that I could actually drink? I was shocked out of my wits! Any Piccolo Mondies out there will appreciate just how momentous an occasion that was.
Showing posts with label piccolo mondo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label piccolo mondo. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Friday Night Live!
My Friday nights in Lagos just seem to be getting better and better and better!
I came on here to talk about the brilliant time I had two days ago, but then realised I never blogged about the Friday before - Halloween!
On October 31st, I put on my daddy's black bowler hat and bright red tie, drew a moustache onto my face with some eyeliner, and headed out to meet up with friends (prizes to anyone who can guess who/what I was meant to be). I picked up my friend Carmen who had drawn a nose and whiskers onto her face, and wore a pair of ears made out of a black alice band and some paper. We looked ridiculous!
First we went to Auto Lounge, because I had never been before and was curious to see this relatively brand new place that had received such lukewarm reviews from friends. Walking in though, I understood why. Auto Lounge tries too hard to come off as cool and classy, and so ends up looking disjointed and a little confused. Each individual piece of furniture is cool to look at on its own, but when put together with the others, the collective result fails to impress. Needless to say, as soon as the friends we were waiting for arrived, we were off... to Piccolo Mondo.
Piccolo Mondo had gone all out for Halloween, with plastic cobwebs and all sorts dangling from the ceiling. Pity it was almost completely empty, apart from a group of very young white kids dancing to some very bad music. Upstairs in Piccolo, we chatted with friends for close to an hour and then decided Suites XVIII was the place to be... and how right we were!
If you've never been to the penthouse at Suites XVIII before, then my poor attempt to describe what it looks like probably won't do you much good. The penthouse is split over two floors, with a bar and lounge on the top floor overlooking the main floor of the penthouse, which has been divided into clusters of sofas, art deco coffee tables and quirky paintings (all painted by the owner Akhmed).
Apart from a few groups of girls dressed in bridezilla and Princess Barbie outfits, there was no other indication that it was halloween. (By this point though I really didn't care, and had wiped off my moustache seeing as Lagosians, being Lagosians, just weren't getting my get up!) And once the whisky began to flow and the DJ began to heat things up, I too kinda forgot why I was dressed up.
The DJ was absolutely amazing! My friends and I danced non-stop for two hours to songs as varied as Bille Jean, I'm Coming Out, My Dream is to Fly (no clue what that Bob Sinclar song's actually called) and Igwe. It was faaaantastic!
Roundabout 3am we decided to change things up a bit and head to Calienté, where a very grown up halloween party was in full swing.
Right from the gate we were greeted by an array of super heros, alcoholic beverages and furry creatures. However we ended up in what I call the old papa room (I know it has a much cooler name than that, something like Belvedere), sitting around yet another bottle of whisky and chit chatting. The DJ just wasn't good enough to get us going - He never is! I really think the good citizens of Lagos should put a petition together demanding his immediate dismissal! He is rubbish!
I say this after having subjected myself to his pitiful routine two Fridays in a row of course. Because where did I end up last Friday (i.e. two days ago) if not Ca-flippin'-lienté. It never ceases to amaze me that clubs in Nigeria give their bouncers, glorified gatemen, the power to decide who is worthy of getting in, and who isn't. It is ridiculous. I walked up to the gate on Friday and was subjected to a full body assessment before I heard the most local accent ever grunt, "Let her in". What's more, when you do finally make it into Calienté, you're met by a horde of working girls in tight nylon hotpants and shiny plastic bag weaves, and groups of gay perverts standing on tables, winding, grinding and stroking themselves!
It makes no sense!
Please don't get me wrong, I have absolutely nothing against homosexuals. My problem is with perverts of any sexual orientation. If it had been women dancing the way those men were dancing on Friday, it would've been just as disgusting. Believe me!
I had wanted to talk about No. 10 next (currently my favourite club in Las Gidi), and about our brief run in with Sisqo (he of 'Thong Song' and 'Unleash the Dragon' fame) on Friday night, but this post is already too long as it is, and I'm running late for a very important date!
I came on here to talk about the brilliant time I had two days ago, but then realised I never blogged about the Friday before - Halloween!
On October 31st, I put on my daddy's black bowler hat and bright red tie, drew a moustache onto my face with some eyeliner, and headed out to meet up with friends (prizes to anyone who can guess who/what I was meant to be). I picked up my friend Carmen who had drawn a nose and whiskers onto her face, and wore a pair of ears made out of a black alice band and some paper. We looked ridiculous!
Auto Lounge
(Lounge/Night Club)
Agoro Odiyan
Victoria Island
(Lounge/Night Club)
Agoro Odiyan
Victoria Island
First we went to Auto Lounge, because I had never been before and was curious to see this relatively brand new place that had received such lukewarm reviews from friends. Walking in though, I understood why. Auto Lounge tries too hard to come off as cool and classy, and so ends up looking disjointed and a little confused. Each individual piece of furniture is cool to look at on its own, but when put together with the others, the collective result fails to impress. Needless to say, as soon as the friends we were waiting for arrived, we were off... to Piccolo Mondo.
Piccolo Mondo
(Restaurant/Lounge/Night Club)
Idejo
Victoria Island
(Restaurant/Lounge/Night Club)
Idejo
Victoria Island
Piccolo Mondo had gone all out for Halloween, with plastic cobwebs and all sorts dangling from the ceiling. Pity it was almost completely empty, apart from a group of very young white kids dancing to some very bad music. Upstairs in Piccolo, we chatted with friends for close to an hour and then decided Suites XVIII was the place to be... and how right we were!
The Penthouse
Suites XVIII
(Boutique Hotel)
62 Adetokunbo Ademola
Victoria Island
Suites XVIII
(Boutique Hotel)
62 Adetokunbo Ademola
Victoria Island
If you've never been to the penthouse at Suites XVIII before, then my poor attempt to describe what it looks like probably won't do you much good. The penthouse is split over two floors, with a bar and lounge on the top floor overlooking the main floor of the penthouse, which has been divided into clusters of sofas, art deco coffee tables and quirky paintings (all painted by the owner Akhmed).
Apart from a few groups of girls dressed in bridezilla and Princess Barbie outfits, there was no other indication that it was halloween. (By this point though I really didn't care, and had wiped off my moustache seeing as Lagosians, being Lagosians, just weren't getting my get up!) And once the whisky began to flow and the DJ began to heat things up, I too kinda forgot why I was dressed up.
The DJ was absolutely amazing! My friends and I danced non-stop for two hours to songs as varied as Bille Jean, I'm Coming Out, My Dream is to Fly (no clue what that Bob Sinclar song's actually called) and Igwe. It was faaaantastic!
Calienté
Goriola Street
(Night Club)
Victoria Island
Goriola Street
(Night Club)
Victoria Island
Roundabout 3am we decided to change things up a bit and head to Calienté, where a very grown up halloween party was in full swing.
Right from the gate we were greeted by an array of super heros, alcoholic beverages and furry creatures. However we ended up in what I call the old papa room (I know it has a much cooler name than that, something like Belvedere), sitting around yet another bottle of whisky and chit chatting. The DJ just wasn't good enough to get us going - He never is! I really think the good citizens of Lagos should put a petition together demanding his immediate dismissal! He is rubbish!
I say this after having subjected myself to his pitiful routine two Fridays in a row of course. Because where did I end up last Friday (i.e. two days ago) if not Ca-flippin'-lienté. It never ceases to amaze me that clubs in Nigeria give their bouncers, glorified gatemen, the power to decide who is worthy of getting in, and who isn't. It is ridiculous. I walked up to the gate on Friday and was subjected to a full body assessment before I heard the most local accent ever grunt, "Let her in". What's more, when you do finally make it into Calienté, you're met by a horde of working girls in tight nylon hotpants and shiny plastic bag weaves, and groups of gay perverts standing on tables, winding, grinding and stroking themselves!
It makes no sense!
Please don't get me wrong, I have absolutely nothing against homosexuals. My problem is with perverts of any sexual orientation. If it had been women dancing the way those men were dancing on Friday, it would've been just as disgusting. Believe me!
I had wanted to talk about No. 10 next (currently my favourite club in Las Gidi), and about our brief run in with Sisqo (he of 'Thong Song' and 'Unleash the Dragon' fame) on Friday night, but this post is already too long as it is, and I'm running late for a very important date!
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