Sloping round a wet, cold Manchester City centre is a fairly regular part of a Cooktwit day. He needs to recharge his batteries for the afternoons shift ‘downt pit’, (or office as it’s sometimes called). A quick luncheon is called for. Soup, salad or a sandwich being the norm. Tucked away round the back, next to University Challenge outfitters ‘Jack Wills’ a stark shop front homes into a view. It’s a view that wasn’t there a few weeks back (10 weeks to be a little more accurate). It’s bears a sign of clean, black script and says ‘Rapha’. In the window, sleek cycles climb the walls; a solitary cycle jacket in lime completes the display. I venture in intrigued.
Smart frontage
An athletic young bean manned the as yet empty coffee point on the ground floor. Though a quick glance around confirmed this is a quality space. I shimmered up the stairs via the black and white contact graphics.
Contact graphic, H van, branding
The space opened, revealing a smart serving counter at ten to, whilst a gleaming stack of garment rails headed out at quarter past. A panoramic view of the King Street emporiums beckoned to the left. I headed down there and hitched up to the high gloss touch down bench replete with high tech racing cycles. Bespoke tables dotted themselves around, welded frames providing each with the necessary support. The tables themselves double up as display cases, showcasing vintage cycling apparel. It’s all rather pleasing.
Vintage display
Having surveyed the land I decided to pitch in with a bracing lunch. The menu is divided into pre and post cycling workouts. The pre bits offering such sporting favourites as porridge, eggs and blueberries whilst the post-match action centres on deli end sandwiches. It is here that the Cooktwit to his aim. A mozzarella, roasted pepper ciabatta drenched in pesto seemed to fit the bill. It came warm (having been lightly squashed in some sort of flat iron arrangement) with a pleasing assembly of leaves, each soaked in an appropriate dressing. A strong coffee in the ‘Rapha’ branded cup and saucer accompanied.
Rapha coffee, the sandwich
I’m not going to bore you and say it was the best sandwich I’d ever had, but nonetheless I can confirm that the raw materials were of the highest order. The whole ensemble easily matching my standards of delivering the right quality product at the right price (£4.50) at the right time.
As I say it’s a high end deli offering that can be acquired in many places but it’s not everywhere you can then fondle a pink soft shell, or soak your hands into a soft merino, neck warmer. As a keen cyclist it is fair to say I was equally impressed with the after match window shopping. As it was almost Christmas when I ventured in The Flame was duly informed that if she was struggling to acquire a gift of sufficient standing this was the outlet she needed to subscribe.
The garments
So there you have it another albeit rather informal purveyor of fine goods with which one can enjoy a leisurely lunch. Well worth a trip. And they even do bottles of Ticketybrew beers if you fancy adding a little extra to the meal. It’s good stuff I’ll certainly be back.
“An American and Canadian diner in an office block in Manchester! It works”
I fancied a treat, normally The Cook Twit is scheduled for a light, healthy snack. Trooping round the back streets of Manchester on a cold, winters lunch time I happened upon relative newcomer Moose Coffee. It’s an American style diner that started life in Liverpool of all places and by all accounts to much acclaim. I decided to give it a quick go. Twice!
Outside looking in
It doesn’t exactly scream “come in” at you from the outside. The overriding colour is brown. Set into the grey concrete of an office block you could miss it if you glanced the wrong way at the crucial moment. Once inside the ‘Brown and Moosey’ theme continues. Beige, brown with a hint of mint echoing the rather clever ‘coffee bean with antlers’ branding on the menus, cups and operatives attire.
Brown, functional interior
If a little dull it’s really all rather calming if I’m honest. Its lifted a little by the witty, ‘moosey’ appendages which adorn the walls at various points. I settled easily and comfortably at my central table for one.
Then it’s the menu. And blimey what a menu. Extensive and filled with a myriad of stuff you would struggle to get elsewhere. Whilst breakfast dominates the left hand side of the card, it is thankfully served pretty much all day. And given the variety and quality of combos on offer there is something for everyone including veggies.
I went for the ‘New Jersey Moose’. Two free range poached eggs on a potato hash, griddled with garlic, onion and mustard, then set on a toasted bagel and smothered in their hollandaise sauce. It arrived in good time and presented simply on a white plate. If I’m allowed to quibble it was a little under seasoned for me (Oooh get you, who do think you are Gregg Wallace – Ed) but, as with most establishments of this ilk, small, table top, containers are provided which allow the client to enhance the sodium content accordingly (do you mean they had a salt-cellar? – Ed). That said it was delish. Washed down with a rather fine black coffee the overall impression was that I’d had a rather scrumptious lunchette.
Clever branding, eggs, Heuvos Rancheros
And then blow me down and smash me across the face with a wet haddock I deliberately went again a couple of days later! I had agonised whether to have the ‘Manolito’ the first time. The classic ‘Heuvos Rancheros’, two warm tortillas, smothered with re-fried beans, two over easy eggs, salsa, grated cheddar and sour cream. I had mine topped with griddled chicken for an extra ten bob. It might look a bit of a mess in the pictures but my lord it was good. I’m sure there was the odd jalapeno in there for extra piquancy. I washed it down with a snickers milkshake for good measure. What a treat!
Snickers milkshake, Moose coffee to go, Homemade cakes for after
Settling the bills sobered things up slightly, £9.10 for the eggs and coffee, £10.50 for the Heuvos Rancheros and milkshake. They are not figures I can weigh in with everyday. But there is no doubt I’ll be back to try more of the ‘brunchy’ goodies on offer. Theres at least a dozen more things to go at.
Moose appendages
Moose Coffee give it a try, (if you can get in) it’s one to watch.
“Fast, great food, but don’t get in the wrong queue!”
Friday lunchtime is down as a big treat for The Cooktwit. In order to maintain the racing snake hips and the thunderous six pack (pack it in – Ed) Monday to Thursday are days of rest in the food dept. These days are spent either fasting (see my take on fasting here) or munching on grass. Weather permitting I search out some decent streetfood, (though since the loss of “MummaSchnitzel” that’s becoming a little tough) after that invariably I end up at Katsouris Deli. It’s housed in a grand old building on the corner of Deansgate and John Dalton Street. It’s an offshoot of the original Greek deli that marks the entrance to the famous Bury market.
A fine exterior
Entering at either entrance you invariably meet a lengthy queue. Don’t despair! If its hot food you want simply hang in there and walk at a steady pace. You will soon hear the shriek, like a ‘banchee’ with an ingrowing toenail, “NEXT!”
The lengthy queues subside quickly – honest!
Be ready though, woe betide that you get close to the hot counter without knowing what you want! Ive seen grown men weep and skulk sheepishly out into the street with little more than a bag of crisps! Such is the rabid efficiency of a lunchtime service ‘tyrekickers’ are quickly shown the door.
But, once you’ve done your homework, the rewards are bountiful. A flavoursome feast for little over a fiver is there for the taking. The decor and furniture is functional. A periphery of vinyl banquette, supplemented with central round tables and bistro chairs provides a good deal of standard seating. I prefer to sit on the high stools which hedge up to the touch down bench which runs all down one side. From here one can gaze into the bustle of the busy street outside. The fun is boundless watching people getting run over at the busy crossroads, dodging the green lights and cyclists running the red lights. That said if you really want action there is some payment seats outside where you get the sound as well!
Signage, Pork and greenery
Basic high level signage gives you the combo’s available. The hot carvery section below lets you see what you’re getting. Spicy paella rice (no seafood though), salad, jacket potatoes or various ‘bunnage’ are the ‘carby’ accompaniments to your meat.
My usual is the salad which you serve yourself from the catering bins that run down one side. I pick the protein from the carvery, sliced pork, gammon, lamb, pulled pork, ham, chicken piri piri, big frankfurters its all top stuff. They all come with their own trimmings, apple sauce, barbecue sauce, onions, stuffing. The salad offer is also top draw. Big chillies, boiled eggs, humus, potato salad, bags of greenery, mainly rocket with sun-dried tomatoes, parmesan, chick peas, olives all with a mediterranean bias.
The salad bins, roast pork and bags of greenery!
If I’m short of funds you can’t beat the soups. there are normally two on offer, homemade, tasty and £2 a pop whether served in a big paper cup or in a big dish, and it comes with a few swabs of bread to mop up.
So there you have it, a quick Cook Twit recommendation on how to get yourself a decent feed on a busy lunchtime in down town Manchester. There are obviously lots more to go at, but so far this is as good as it gets for me. Give it a go.
“Just been kicked in the Baltics! And it was good!”
Some of you may know I work dead centre of Manchester town. Indeed if you google Manchester you get within 20 yards of where I work, Lloyd Street near Albert Square. It’s a rather austere thoroughfare that connects the thriving, shop laden bustle of Deansgate and the spiritual heart that is the magnificent town hall. Sat quietly beneath the action lies the glowing red embers of a new vodka bar from the east (and I don’t mean Hull).
The large menu, Red exterior
The Baltic Cellar is set low beneath Lloyd House. You step downwards from the street. I’ve been to Lithuania a couple of times. The dark red and brick interior, dimly lit takes me straight back to the underground caverns of Vilnius. Rich red banquettes mark out the eating areas whilst a cavernous wooden floor leads to an impressive bar. It’s well finished, no up cycled chairs, exposed cable trays and scaffolding pipes here. It’s all rather agreeable really.
Smart red interior
As it is new it has been pushing its lunchtime menu. Two courses for £10.95. Nothing too special there I hear you cry. Latterly though, it’s been peddling this deal at half price. Two courses for just over a fiver, now that is fighting talk. The menu is certainly different. If I was ever on Saturday Kitchen my food hell would be beetroot. ‘Borsch’ the beetroot based soup of Russia is a feature here so I gave that a miss, but there’s a lot to go at.
After asking for volunteers in the office I eventually convinced twenty one plucky souls to venture into the bowels of the building and give it a try. To help out I nipped down, grabbed some menus and gave the ‘Baltic Cellarists’ the heads up. “We’ll be down in half an hour, can chef manage it?” We trooped down. I handed in our list. Valentina and Neesha swept into action, several bottles of ‘Kynep’ (Polish beer?) with matching tankards were soon in check. The happy throng settled into their matching bays, chirping to each other gaily beneath the chilled dance beats wafting from the PA.
Spicy beef stew, Chicken stew, chicken cutlets
I had spicy beef stew. Like everything it arrived on a flat brown platter. I had it with brown rice; I could have had rice, buckwheat, chips, salad or mash potato! To be fair it wasn’t that spicy, but it was tasty enough. The fresh, pleasant garnish seems to be standard on all dishes. Shredded carrot in garlic mayo, tomato, lettuce and cucumber. Whilst for me it lacked a little in presentation and style, I seemed to be in the minority. Working with a team of flashing young blades, the younger palettes chomping through chicken cutlets, chicken and mushroom stew, pork stroganoff, dumplings and (for the veggies) carrot and mushroom cutlets all had the thumbs firmly up and raved most of the afternoon, so who am I to say? As you can imagine turning up with a party of twenty one, we did stress the crew a bit! The food arriving in spasms. It was all hot though.
I would say for £5.45, two courses is a bargain, I would question whether the Manchester office brigade will be queuing up when it’s back at £10.95? For that the service has to be snappy and the food bob on.
Tibetan caviar, Champers
That said a few days later I ventured in once more. This time as a guest at the launch party. The pre gig splurge promising flames and mystery! I joined the queue on the roped off red carpet, I felt like a film star! The flames roared from the arms of a scantily clad, pirouetting nymph. All this while we were ticked off the list. Flames and drama, on Lloyd Street! As it was I ventured in behind BBC sports presenting legend Mike Bushell. We slugged a few glasses of champers together, very pleasant. Valentina, Neesha and the crew balanced trays of Tibetan caviar, smoked salmon puffs, cheese and bacon wrapped olives. The packed bar cleared them out.
nymph, throng, drink
Before sitting down for the taster grub, the nymphet had morphed into a slinky body stocking and with the aid of some ancient farming implements she started to contort into shapes that I would have doubted possible from anyone in human form. The throng looked on agog.
Russian sausage, soused herring, nice cakes!
With most of the visitors now soaked in vodka, fizz and birch sap (yes, birch sap!) it was time to sit. We soon settled into our booths of six. More vodka in various flavours was gleefully imbibed. Courses of Russian salad, charcuterie, pickled mackeral and cheese was up first. In fairness it was all pretty good. The charcuterie to my palette as good as anything from Italy or Spain.
We then turned to a taster of seven mains, Chicken Cedar (creamy sauce and nuts), Beef Goulash, Chicken Mushroom, Vegetable Ragu (braised cauliflower and more in a tomato sauce), Pork Stroganoff and Bigos (stewed sauerkraut, cabbage, smoked sausage, ribs and mushroom) all delivered in a ‘brown, trivial pursuit, segment’ arrangement. Our posse pawed in for a morsel each. To be fair there was no complaints on anything here. The meats tender and moist all slicked in a tasty sauce. Goulash won for me. Decent chunks of tender beef in a well seasoned creamy sauce.
The mains, beer
A brawny, Viking like helper homed in with a skewer of Chicken and salmon Shashlik. This another highlight. Evidently shashlik is a Baltic charcoal pit. Both efforts were superb, the chicken especially, clearly marinated in something very nice, the flavour and texture then further enhanced from its soak in the fire breathing cauldron. Top stuff.
After more vodka games and with the tummy starting to swell alarmingly in came the selection of Baltic desserts! As ever, The Cook Twit, for you darling readers, had to dig deep and open up the reserve ‘sweet’ stomach. Morsels of Honey cake, cheesecake, chocolate cake and napoleon cake were each delicately forked across the taste buds. And very nice too. The cheesecake wasn’t quite the ‘baked’ type that it should be, but for me European desserts are often a bit sweet and different to ours.
I do recall in the vodka ‘mist’ with the place full and rocking it was a very pleasant place to be. Soft, euro beats filling the gaps between the partying chats. With the lights dimmed the vibe was top notch. I could easily see me, The Flame and a few chums on a cold winters night slugging a few vodkas, noshing a hearty soup and a plate of goulash. Whilst Manchester wallows in its top notch ‘dirty food’ emporiums, it could be that the Baltic Cellar is the place for a change. Let’s hope the Baltic Cellar can get the booths full again and get more nights like this.
I’ve started going to these little markets that have been popping up in the North West over the last couple of years. The combination of Artisan producers coupled with the latest hip, street food purveyors, a foodies dream they doth make.
Traders and the welcoming tunnel
The Flame on the other hand doesn’t quite share my enthusiasm. Working on a scale of 1 to 10, a market being 1 and Fortnum & Mason being a 10, The Flame rocks in at a strong 8. Probably John Lewis territory! So when I said let’s have a ride out to Levenshulme Market it’s fair to say the scheme I had in mind was well short of The Flames idea of a nice ride out.
Bread and Asian Street Food
Still after an uneventful 45 minute sortie down the M62 we parked up on a fairly uninspiring Levenshulme high street. We did toy with the idea of going by train. The market is held on Levenshulme railway station car park which is a five minute jaunt from Manchester Piccadilly. The sun was shining (which probably helped to the keep spirits up) as we ventured down a narrow alley, the neat, off white, Bedouin tents wafting in the breeze each housing an eager artisan, patiently waiting to offload their wares.
Beetroot burger, bangers, cake
First thing that hits is the smell and sound of a gentle sizzle. The sizzle of heat burnishing the soft flesh of a previously happy beast or just as likely the nutritious seed of a fertile plant. If you’re looking for a plastic hot dog on a claggy roll, a splurge of damp onions and a dash of ketchup, this is not the place for you. Much more likely is the delicately spiced haunch of a tiger prawn or a soaked pulse wrapped in the gossamer of a recently culled vine, or the thickly scythed rasher of marmite cured bacon. This is quality stuff.
Beer, Tea and cake
We ventured around the bijou, eclectic combine of salt of the earth Samaritans, each teasing you in with a morsel of the bootie. Our tact was to sweep round taking stock of the offers before settling in a corner of quiet contemplation with a pleasing brew from the ‘The Buttery’. It is there that we decided where the Cooktwit coffers were about to be placed.
Typical advertising. Twitter is used a lot
We succumbed to a modest haul in the end but could have easily done more. A rabbit pie, tarte au citron and a scone from the said Buttery started things off. The lemon and scone part of the scheme, superb, the rabbit less so. Not quite matching my pie benchmark set by the ‘Great North Pie Company’. A walnut sourdough, delicately laced with garlic from Trove proved to be a worthy buy, as did the the three seed apricot granola from ‘Morning Glory’, the venison scotch egg from ‘Moocher’, the white chocolate blonde cookie from ‘The Cake Pod’, the Cumberland sausage from ‘Bobbys Bangers’. Particularly impressive was the treacle cured bacon and the marmite cured bacon also from Bobby.
Gin juniper ice cream!
Fine craft ales could have been quaffed but sweetness won the day as I rounded off proceedings with my first ice cream from ‘Ginger Comforts’. A little gin, juniper and cherry number I recall. Very pleasant.
The modest haul
All in all a very pleasant hour was spent. There was maybe fifty stalls selling game, bread, cheese, wine, tea, cakes and plenty more. Street food vendors were on hand if you needed something for lunch to put you on. Even the Flame was impressed. The market is on every Saturday from March to December. It isn’t always food. It alternates between craft and vintage wares. As part of the day out we mooched round Victoria baths after. That’s worth a punt as well.
“A quiet, intimate, plush space with some beautifully presented plates” On the face of it a bit of a boring Tuesday night was on cards, but this was different. The Cooktwit was having another year grafted onto his CV. To celebrate The Flame breezed into town to take me out for a slap up scran. Having tossed a coin between many offers, the penny finally settled on Michael Caines Restaurant which is housed deep in the bowels of the Abode Hotel up at the Piccaddilly end of Manchester. After a quick livener at ‘Beef and Pudding’ the architectural, sunlit frontage of the Abode homed into view.
The historic exterior
Avoiding the cafe grill bit to the right we aimed left and sunk the several flights of stairs to the altogether swankier outlook of the restaurant. Mind you it took a few delicate minutes to bypass the suited greeters as our online booking was lost in the ether. As it was early, (six thirtyish) we were soon guided to a suitable spot. We entered the dark, hushed arena. Brown and grey hues were thoughtfully punctuated with spots of orange. Orange is the signature colour here. The smart Caine’s logo as well as the staff ties were all decked out with it. High end furnishings meant our table was a good size and the seating comfortable. The flame faced outwards from a plush banquette. I faced the mirrored wall on a four legged tub. This is swanky with a capital ‘S’. We both felt we should have put our posh frocks on!
Orange, The Who, orange brown and swanky
Once seated a complimentary peach and sherry cocktail served to get the spirits zinging. We then surveyed the clear, sparse menu. We had already stated we were going for the special ‘Spring into Summer’ menu. £24.95 for three courses. Choice of four starts, four mains and four desserts. Bit stingey on choice I suppose, but we were both able to select something that suited. We listened in to one or two others. The maître di (s) were overheard describing the tasting menu and the a la carte. Sounded good. Once we had selected, our passionate, knowledgable sommelier swept over to help chose a nice glass of wine to suit our choice. We also elected to have the substantial bread course (£1.50 each).
Cocktail, bread, coffee
Within a short sketch the first course shimmered into view. The flame went for the salmon mouse which came with pickled beetroot and a raisin vinaigrette. I had the confit duck terrine with an elderflower and champagne jelly and a peach purée. Both dishes were sublime, both in presentation and taste. My duck dish was a gamey delight, edged beautifully with spots of peach. We were both well chuffed. We mopped up with the warm homemade breads. Mains were equally good. The flame had her favourite, chicken, albeit this one was rolled up in a ballotine. Beautifully scented with tarragon, it was seated next to a pea purée and a white wine sauce. I managed a slice of the chicken. It was perfect, full of flavour and not too much tarragon. I had the cod, which was surrounded by pan fried gnocchi, green beans, mushroom purée and a chicken jus. The fish was perfectly cooked, each see through flake. The gnocchi together with the fish was a tad unusual. The gnocchi having a dense texture. The whole lot washed wonderfully with the mushroom sauce. The Chardonnay helped as well!
After managing to hold back our attentive and eager service we finally went for a dessert. After the initial disappointment of being told chef would not serve the lemon tart (as it was not up to scratch!) I went for my second choice, caramel tart with mascarpone ice cream and grated lemon. The flame had the ‘Opera gateaux’. I think I won here. My tart was superb, the delicate, crispy, sweet crust had to be broken through before combining with a smudge of the ice cream. A fine end.
Happy Birthday, Gateaux, Caramel tart
We ended the scheme properly with a decent coffee and petit fours. I think someone had tipped chef off that it was my birthday! We both nodded to say that yes this was a very nice meal. The flame really felt it was her sort of place. Despite the headline price of £24.95 each, the costs soon ratchet up, £4.50 each for the coffee! The bill came to £90 including a 12% service. Pretty good really and to be fair the service was top notch. The waiters and waitresses were plentiful, all attentive, efficient, knowledgeable and never missed a beat. I’d recommend for a special occasion. You could pop the question here! And as a rocker they even had a pic of the ‘orrible ooh’ on the way to the loos. Can’t say fairer than that.
“A surprising little find just off the beaten track”
I may have mentioned earlier, as well as liking his grub, The Cook Twit likes his heavy metal and tries to keep his beer belly in check. A hot, humid, drizzly Monday eve presented a bit of a problem. Devotion to his cause meant he had to trek along to extraordinaire rock god Sebastion Bach whilst juggling a notion of keeping his weight in tune with a ’52 diet’ fast day. The breakfast and lunch had passed with ease having merely chugged some porridge and an apple. The dilemma what to have for tea. Young Seb was treading the boards at The Academy on Oxford Road, I know there is plenty of quickie food joints up there, pizzas, kebabs, burgers all standard student fayre. Cutting to the chase I slipped off the main drag and stepped early doors into hip joint The Deaf Institute.
The historic exterior
I believe it is a cousin of more mainstream city centre stalwarts Trof and Gorilla.
The outside looks good. It occupies a grade two listed building finished in 1877, that was formerly the Adult Deaf and Dumb Institute. It still has a brilliant, carved moniker sat above the doorway which says “Deaf And Dumb”. Also above the door is a carving of a hand on a book which was the emblem used at the time on badges worn by the deaf.
Inside is just as good. High ceilings, ferocious wallpaper, well worn schoolboy furniture, trendy chandeliers, it is a grungy delight. Deep bass, thumping chilled out sounds oozed from the transistorised amplification. Not many in, but hey it’s drizzly and it’s Monday. Still I’m happy, a copy of ‘The Skinny’ and a black coffee, I’m sorted. (Coffee!!! – Ed)
Ferocious wallpaper
I still have to eat though, how do I get something for three hundred calories? I surveyed the hard to read, black type on red, graphic menu. Some great stuff on there. It’s a limited offering. Breakfast , burgers, hot dogs, a Sunday roast and some salads.
The hard to read funky menu
I went for the ‘Crunchy Mexican Streetfood Salad’ (£5). I added a grilled lemon chicken breast for an extra £1. The salad was essentially a mound of grated white and red cabbage, carrot. radishes, coriander, jalapeños, lime and brown rice. It had a few chick peas as well. It came with an oily, but mainly vinegary dressing. I have to say it was lovely. Fresh, zingy, crunchy with a healthy ‘chillified’ kick, it was absolutely lovely. The chicken was a tad overdone for me, I have a knack of cooking it still moist which is rarely replicated outside.
Zingy salad, awesome smoothie
I’m not sure it truly met my three hundred calorie target, but I’m sure it was less than the burger and fries!
They have a great cocktail and beer menu as well. They have tons of bottled beer from all over the world including some decent American pale ales. As I was keeping off the alcohol I had a blueberry and banana smoothie (£3.50). It just hit the spot. It set me up wonderfully for a sweaty metal night. It all came to just over a tenner. It’s gone on my list. If you’re heading up to the Student area from town to a gig, you can do worse than nip in to The Deaf Institute for pre gig livener. I’ll be going again defo.
The Deaf Institute
135 Grosvenor Street
Manchester
M1 7HE
T: 0161 276 9350
Salvis Cucina (kitchen in Italian) is a new, rather understated eatery that has sprung up in the nondescript concrete avenue of John Dalton Street in Manchester. I sportingly took The Flame there as recompense for a forthcoming road trip with a couple of gentlemen friends to watch a bunch of rock debutants in North London outpost Enfield.
The outside
Salvis sprang forth in the mind as one or two local work pals have raved over their pre existing ‘Mozzarella Bar’ down the other end of town in the ill fated Corn Exchange Triangle. Salvis are an Italian dynasty that has purveyed quality Italian ingredients in Manchester for a few years now. And after our meal I wholeheartedly suggest they continue.
Decor is rather modest, the odd flash of colour from a strategically placed painted chair. The open kitchen dominates, the hardworking chefs plunder their skills amongst a plethora of shaving, slicing and turning machinery. It’s a pleasing sight.
Menu, colourful chairs, the kitchen, the specials roll
Our table was preordained after I had ventured in earlier in the day. Our table was set right up against the semi height glass frontage. As this was a sunny eve our table was streaked with fresh sunlight and fresh(ish) Manchester air. It was wonderful. Our delightful Italian waitress plied us with water and wine and took our order after explaining the specials in the most delicate Italianate English. To further help the specials are scrawled on a large brown paper roll. Nice touch.
Our antipasti soon homed into view. Mine first, ‘Cappachio Di Nanzo Rucola E Grana’ (beef, rocket, Parmesan, drizzled with olive oil, balsamic and lemon £8.50). It was wonderful, ‘waffer’ thin slices of raw beef with a cheesy, oily, herby coat. As a treat I did ask if I could try some smoked mozzarella as I was intrigued. Rather than the slither I anticipated I was graced with a fully dressed ball in a separate bowl. It was a bit too much to eat in one lump but I loved the smokey rind, definitely one to bear in mind.
The antipasti
The flames starter was a bit of a strange one. Entitled ‘Timbalo Di Venture Con formaggio Di Capra E Pesto’ it was subtitled as mixed grilled vegetables stacked with goats cheese and topped with pesto (£8). It turned out to be three deep fried orbs set on a base of dressed leaves and a super homemade pesto. It wasn’t what was expected but it was still delicious and was gleefully mopped up. The grilled veg were merely slithers mixed in with the cheese and deep fried.
We both went for simple pasta dishes for mains but even these were a step above the norm. Mind you I could argue they should have been at £11.50 and £13 a plate. It isn’t cheap, but ye gods they were both sensational. The flames ‘Pasta Con Pesche Spada, Melenzane, Scamorza E Pinoli’ (swordfish, aubergine, pine nuts and smoked mozzarella) probably shaded it. The pasta itself beautifully cooked and seasoned. The tastes and textures sublime.
The mains and the tiramisu
I had a pasta off the specials board. ‘Pasta alla Salvis Whit Salsiccia et asparigi’ (sausage and asparagus). Finished in a tomato sauce (or ‘sowse’ as our waitress called it) it was still a simple pasta dish but somehow it just tasted so much better than most I’ve ever had before. I can’t really explain why but it was. You’ll just have to try yourself!
I as usual I rounded off with a desert for research purposes. I run a personal competition to find a tiramisu to match my childhood version as provided by Culcheth heroes ‘Don Luighi’. I think I have found a joint top version. It seemed a bit too thick at first but deep down the ‘V’ shaped flask the moist, boozy, creamy loveliness came bounding through. A triumph at any price but at £4.50 it had no equal.
Smoked mozzarella
Whilst us chaps all know brownie points have ceased to be legal tender in most relationships there is no doubt Salvis worked its magic on The flame. The Gentlemans weekend continued without a hitch and there is no question we will be back. Going forward I can see this being one of our favourite staple restaurants. Highly recommended.
Always had a soft spot for Gorilla in Manchester. Set across from former ‘grab a granny haunt’ The Ritz, it is the natural port of call when The Cooktwit indulges in one of his other passions – rock music. Having been a nightclub, The Ritz has now morphed into a fully fledged, live rock venue. If a former rock titan has seen fit to grace The Ritz on their way down from the lofty heights of success, The Cooktwit and his chums have been there ready and waiting, air guitar in hand.
Trendy, The Ritz, trendy roof and upstairs diner,
Gorilla is also a hop, skip and a jump from Oxford Road rail station, meaning our merry throng can be on the train home with ‘The Final Countdown’ encore still ringing in our ears.
However, a little ritual has developed, the Gorilla bar provides a thirsty rock troupe with good beer and has even given way to provide a pre gig snack in the shape of a trusty burger, shaped and seasoned by the fair hand of Chorlton butchering legend WH Frost. I have ventured these delights on to the palate of a good few of the ‘hoi poloi’ and have all agreed these are the work of an angel. They are juicy, pink and sized correctly for a fine feed.
The cocktail bar
In the guise of ‘Billy no mates’ I have on several occasions ventured alone into Gorilla. I’ve always found it to be a friendly and welcoming den. The bar tenders, encapsulated behind their three sided counter, often festooned in either facial hair, tats or piercings, or all three, are never anything other than friendly, efficient, jolly and professional. Indeed it’s quite a treat to watch them conjuring up their extensive cocktails.
But it was a different occasion this time. This time I trooped in with The Flame. We had just been up the road to The Opera House to watch an afternoon performance of ‘Rock Of Ages’. It was basically a spectacular romp through all the 80’s hair metal tunes you can think of, coupled to a series of jokes and raunchy dance routines. Indeed being a gentleman of a certain age and feeling somewhat hot under the collar, it was critical to reach Gorilla (the nearest bar) to cool the shock of seeing over a dozen power ballads and a veritable phalanx of near naked ladies clasped to the gills in suspenders belts! We arrived just after five and bagged a table right by the window facing out to the infamous Ritz. An American ‘Red Hook’ Pale ale was quickly acquired to apply the ‘cooling’!
The menu
The Gorilla decor ticks all the trendy bar boxes. In fairness to Gorilla I reckon they wrote the trendy bar book. Unmatched, up cycled furniture, craft beer, industrial lighting, exposed ceilings, retro branding, food served on wooden planks, plenty of organic, veggie, lentily stuff on the menu. The menu itself, along with a vintage drink booklet, is thoughtfully printed on lined paper with an old ‘typewriter’ font. So the trendy bar boxes all ticked, it’s all here and I think its great, and thankfully so did The Flame.
As great as the burgers are I decided to have a change this time. I went for a simple chargrilled half a chicken (£12). It had been marinated in thyme, garlic and lemon and I have to say without any doubt this was the finest piece of chicken I have had in years, if not ever. To say it was succulent, moist and tasty is not really doing it justice but it’s all I can think of. It came with a handful of watercress, on a plank, with two wonderful dips. A garlic mayo one and a chimmichurri (herby, olive oily) one, both very nice. I had some fries on the side (£3).
The chargrilled chicken, dips, chamoula kebab, the lot
The Flame had a Chermoula Chicken Kebab (£10) which was toasted in an African spice rub, it came with a puy lentil, tomato, cucumber, and green herb salad, harissa yoghurt and a grilled flat bread. She had a roasted squash side to keep it company. Though I say so myself it looked the business and was absolutely bang on to how The Flame likes her food. She was well chuffed. We swapped a little bit. To be fair even she admitted my chicken was best, but I had half a wrap with all the trimmings and it was heavenly. All in all two great mains.
As is the norm I was forced to have a desert for research purposes, so I had the pecan pie and whipped cream (£4.50) while the flame had a standard black coffee in a mug. The pie was ‘delish’ although the base was a little tough and needed a good hacking with a fork. The bill came to £44.60 for the two of us with the drinks.
Pecan pie and beer
I think we all know Manchester has plenty of gourmet burger outfits who all do a grand job, but spare a thought for Gorilla. As I mentioned I’ve had quite a few here and they have been consistently superb. Judging by the number of them being carried aloft from the kitchen they are still hitting the spot. So there you have it, another recommendation, Gorilla it is!
It’s Friday, it’s raining, I’m carousing the alleyways of Manchester, the objective, something, quick and tasty to keep the cook twit ticking along until the toil of honest graft (you work in an office! – Ed) switches into a torrent of unbridled wonderlust that heralds a new weekend.
Hark, what have we here? It’s the old Jack Spratt gaff with a new sign. It’s now called ‘The Splendid Sausage Company’. I wonder if it is splendid? Let’s find out. I gingerly headed in alone. There wasn’t many people in. A sprightly young waitress, decked in black, with a large white moustache emblazoned across her chest, bound to my rescue. Still doubting whether this was a good move I asked to see the menu. The young blade quickly explained that what we sell here are Gourmet sausages, locally produced as well. I was made to feel rather special and so I thought why not? I nestled onto a small table by the door and ordered a diet coke (Well we don’t want to overdo it do we?).
A Moustache and an OSB banquette
As much as I liked the Jack Spratt grub the decor was a little strange to be honest. The bits of foliage that used to straggle round the large front windows have gone. It would appear the red paint shop has done well. Most of the walls get the treatment along with sporadic members of the chair department. The old banquettes down the left have now been clad in (wait for this) ‘Orientated Strand Board’ or OSB, (I checked this up at B&Q!) to limited effect. The statement piece of the new set is the moustache specials board, the joke moustache seemingly the splendid sausages playful marketing tag. Whilst still on the decor a little bird tells me the red ceiling in the ladies loo is quite something! All in all it looks jolly enough and suits the mood and the menu.
The loo ceiling! (Library pic)
And so to the menu!. Let’s not beat about the bush it sells hot dogs so it’s a simple affair. The first side (of the two sided sugar paper print out) explains the routine you need to go through to enhance your hot dog experience. 1) chose your sausage, of which there are ten, including a veggie one. They seem to build up from the humble pork sausage up to a spicy one via a bit of Spain, France and Morocco. 2) from there you add two toppings. Alternatively if your a bit lazy and you can’t be bothered choosing, side two of the tablet quotes some custom built combinations (I think you mean ‘combos’, get down with the kids – Ed) with names like ‘Danger Dog’ and ‘The King’. Rather like an ‘Almost Famous’ menu you then get numbers by the side, like 8.5 and 9. Sadly these are not marks out of ten. A short inquiry with one of the mustachioed crew revealed these numbers represent the price in pounds sterling! £9 for a hot dog!
The simple menu
I went for the Spanish version which contained peppers and sun dried tomatoes. I topped it with caramelised onions and spicy red and green peppers. I then lashed on some PB mustard for an extra edge. I washed it down with my can of coke complete with straw! The whole ensemble complete with the now obligatory brioche bun, came resplendent in its own plastic basket (another nod to Almost Famous, are they related?). If I’m brutally honest a hot dog would be pretty far down my list of gourmet food. But to be fair it was pretty good as hot dogs go. A far cry from the rubbery fairground version. The sausage was nice and spicy, the toppings plentiful and tasty.
The Spanish Dog
The bill total was £9. Seven for the dog, two for the coke. Was it worth £9? I’m struggling a bit there. It was all over in a few minutes. The desert menu looked good though and I understand it gets a bit more grown up later in the day selling decent cocktails. Would I go again? I may try a Danger Dog but I think that would be it for me. I think its one for the kids this. It did fill up while I was eating and was pretty much full just after one o clock so it seems to be catching the imagination. So good luck to it I say, keep the dogs barking!
the splendid sausage company
unit c
11 st james’ square
john dalton street
manchester
m2 6wh
The Cook Twit 