CityLife

OVER exposure and under delivery often go hand in hand and bar owners can be the worst culprits. Bar launches are prime candidates for being hyped out of all proportion, with a sinking sense of disappointment left to settle over the opening weeks. With this in mind, it’s refreshing to come across a bar that rolls the other way. Zero hype surrounded the opening of Corridor in December, but that didn’t stop the buzz, which started among industry insiders and is building powerfully through word of mouth. Glow of red Corridor’s a new project from one of the former partners in Socio Rehab, which gives you an instant heads up as to the direction. Though directions – of the physical kind – may be less clear. Corridor’s off the beaten track to say the least: down Blackfriars Street and around the corner towards the back of the Lowry Hotel, tucked away on a side street, with only the glow of red lighting and the tiniest of exterior signs to let you know you’ve arrived. We were almost surprised we didn’t have to drop a password at the door. Speakeasy vibe Inside the speakeasy vibe continues, lent by the out-of-the-way location, amped by the low slung red pendant lights, the brick walls, the intimate square-shaped booths and the serious drinks. Set in an old textile warehouse the décor is one part sleaze, one part glamour, one part this-means-business. This is a cocktail lounge for late night sophisticates and down to earth connoisseurs, with a jazz, soul and funk soundtrack to aid the discovery of your inner David Niven, Or Ron Burgandy. Whichever lounge lover you choose to channel, do them and yourself justice and make time to savour the back bar. Cutting edge Owner Ian Morgan’s bartending expertise has won him awards; Socio established his cutting edge credentials; and the brand owners have sat up and taken note. Witness the range of premium brands, from the obvious to the cutting edge: artisanal concoctions in limited production making their first foray into the market through the best quality bars – that will do their brands justice – of which they’ve rightly identified this as one.

MY apologies to tubers everywhere for not celebrating National Year of the Potato 2008 sufficiently. I also ignored the Keith Chegwin-fronted National Chip Week in February. The problem is that these promotional windows of opportunity for even the humblest of foodstuffs do crop up with increasing regularity. Still who’s to begrudge a moment in the sun for the Parsnip Marketing Board or Duck Eggs of England (no, not the national cricket team)… It’s all too much for an addled foodie who has only just worked out the cunning double meaning of ‘‘Go to work on an egg’’, the Fifties Fay Weldon-scripted ad slogan (British Egg week, by the way, was last month, if you missed it). Bewildering array This is all my scrambled way of informing you that next week (November 23-29) is National Curry Week. But don’t expect sizzling balti frenzy down the Curry Mile, which really doesn’t need the extra promotion. It does need a bit more surprise element among its bewildering array of restaurants, both the formica-driven and the Bolly faux glam. My advice has been to look elsewhere. Obviously EastzEast. In 2006 it became the first Indian to win the CityLife.co.uk Manchester Food and Drink Awards Restaurant of the Year title. The Punjabi mini-chain has since expanded into a second style-conscious, if slightly barracks-like outlet, by the Irwell on Blackfriars Street, and ther’s a Preston outpost in the pipeline. Neon glamour For neon glamour with consistent if unsurprising food (like EastzEast skewering vast naans on a metal frame, so they cool too quickly), visit Akbar’s on Liverpool Road, Castlefields. For surprising Southern Indian, Sanmini in Ramsbottom is the revelation. So where does that leave Dilli in Altrincham, four years on from its arrival? Still sticking to its Ayurvedic guns, naturally. To recap, this sanskrit philosophy (Ayur=life, Veda = knowledge) compares the human body to a leaf that shrivels up through lack of vital moisture. Its practices are to restore those lost juices My companion, Bandit Queen and I chose to rehydrate in advance with a couple of hoppy Belgian beers in the nearby Morte Subite bar and chose not to get too philosophical about what was to come. Welcome compliment The place, of course, is still saddled with my verdict as a fledgling food critic: "the tastiest Indian food I’ve eaten since I was in Mumbai.’’ Chef/manager Ravi Bajaj trained in Mumbai with the famous Taj hotel group, so that must have been a welcome compliment. The reason to go back and reassess Dilli was Ravi’s latest annual overhauil of the menu. The décor, alas has not been reassessed. Stamford Street is identikit British High Street and Dilli’s upstairs dining space is similarly cold and scuffed. Seafood, street food The downstairs dining room, with its dun hues and carved Mogil traceries, does not lift the spirits, either. Fortunately the new menu does, even if you regard the Ayurvedic sschtick as niche marketing hokum (BQ does). Bandit Queen and I actually arrived a week before the new menu kicked in, but Ravi obliged us with a way over-abundant preview of what was new but basically a variant on the Dilli template – seafood, street food, earthy, authentic. That we could accommodate pudding was tribute to the kitchen’s subtle wiles. Juicy inspiration Pudding wasn’t the kind of rice-pudding or garish sweetmeats overload. Tandoori char-grilled pineapple with a ginger, honey, lime and black pepper dressing was a juicy inspiration. Bandit Queen, back from guerilla camp in a remote mountain fastness, admired its simple virtues. Simple virtues are probably what Dilli does best in its panoramic trawl across the Indian sub-continent. Our best starter was Samosa ki chaat £4.55), a Delhi street snack where the veg/chickpea filling in a delicate casing, dressed with swirls of yoghurt, mint and tamarind, reminded you what a samosa should be. The tandoor oven was much in evidence. The tiger prawns marinated in black pepper and spices were unexciting, the Adraki lamb chops ((£6.95), slow-braised in nutmeg and ginger, were better if a little mean on flesh. Dominant cardamom Lamb reappeared in the mains. At £9.95, the off-the-bone Gosht Banjra was similarly spiced, mace is only nutmeg by another name, but cardamom dominated the spicing. All this satisfied Bandit Queen’s carnivore craving, but, as previously Dilli’s veggie offerings were more impressive (it has won best veggie gong at the CityLife.co.uk Manchester Food and Drink Awards). Palak Poriyal (£5.50) was a cunning Southern-style spinach stir-fry with garlic, mustard seed, red chillies, split Bengal gram and grated coconut matched by an equally lovely Hyderabadi Yellow Dhal (£4.75). Piquant unripe mango This was red and yellow lentils cooked with green mango (the piquant unripe mango that is the basis of mango chutney), with mustard seeds and curry leaves. Both were aromatic and satisfying, no mere accompaniments. Dilli has always featured salmon, prawns and lobster on its annually changing cartes. Lobster Hara Pyaz, fresh crustacean stir-fried with spring onions and garlic, was simple cooking for a hefty £19.95, but that was its strength. No masking by over-spiced sauces, lie so much Indian cuisine. Dilli is staying the course. Now maybe it is time to spruce up the restaurant. The makeover of Michelin-stated Juniper along the line shows that Altrincham doesn’t have to be dowdy.

THERE has never been a better time to sample on the cheap the best that Manchester’s restaurants can offer. Harvey Nichols, Michael Caines at Abode and Ithaca are all extending their special dining offers. It’s not a spirit of goodwill, more slight desperation to get bums on seats. It is easy though to turn up and spend a large chunk on extras. £8.95 for two courses for Ithaca’s Japanese fusion treats was terrific. Better quality But a third course pud, a £10 chocolate fondant, was as huge a tariff as succumbing to better quality wine because the lunch was such a bargain. So the prospect of wine inclusive made the current Malmaison Brasserie ‘2000 & Wine’ offer very inviting. Two courses from the Homegrown and Local menu, celebrating local producers, would normally cost you £29 – for the same amount, same choice, you also now get a bottle of house wine and coffee. Past master No hidden extras, apart from a 10 per cent service charge. Chef Kevin Whiteford is a past master at providing consistent hearty brasserie grub on the main menu, but you are not trading down with the Homegrown as we discovered. Even the house red, a South African cabernet, wasn’t the pup we expected, offering some simple, ripe fruit. So the whole thing was a bargain (aided by some unusually smart service), if not a culinary revelation Chewy but tasty Starters? My daughter’s goat cheese and red onion tart was creamy and smart, my Goosnargh chicken liver pate with grape chutney and brioche ditto. The mains were better. My Old Spot pork loin steak was chewy but tasty, the cider sauce and mustard mash spot-on (sic) accompaniments, while her sea trout fillet was surprisingly fleshy on a petit pois base. We resisted pudding and pudding wine. We are learning to live with the recession! Toast Roast To download a voucher for 2000 & Wine’ you have to register at www.malmaison.com/register. The offer isn’t applicable on Saturday evenings and on certain dates. Malmaison are also running a special Sunday deal called ‘Toast Roast’, where for £15 person on that day you get soup, Sunday roast and a a half bottle of house wine.

IT'S been obvious to anyone with an eye for the impressive, the inspiring or just with a nose for a damn good party that the Pavilion which has been nestling in the shadow of Urbis for most of the year is a space that’s just begging to be taken over. And it’s to Ear To The Ground’s credit that they’ve seized the mantle and put the giant tent to good use. The concept? Well, in essence it’s the much-loved Canteena in its winter woollies. A temporary, themed bar/music space - only this time instead of being military-themed and hot and sunny it’s a faux-winter wonderland, all white and icy blue. Impressive job The Castlefield institution’s windswept, icy younger sibling if you will. In the manner of whatever the polar (sorry) opposite of a desert oasis is on entrance, they’ve done an impressive job. A long wooden walkway flanked with picnic-style benching and pine trees leads you up to the space itself, making you feel like you’re entering the realm of the Ice Queen. If the Ice Queen lived in central Manchester and wore clothes from the Northern Quarter that is. Inside, among the fairy lights and projected snowflakes, it’s more of the same: dominated by the ‘north pole’ itself in the middle of a huge circular lighting rig festooned with inverted Christmas trees (which we’re hoping isn’t some form of Norwegian Satanist symbol) plus signs to major cities which – though we’re not sure if they’re factually accurate – are sure to be useful for the frozen traveller. As are the wooden benches around the perimeter. Winter-themed cocktails At the antler-covered bar, the drinks offer feels pretty solid for a pop up drinking hole. As well as the Guinness (extra cold, of course), Carlsberg and Grolsch on tap there are a range of winter-themed cocktails: a Jack Daniels, honey, lemon and clove Whiskey Toddy and a Vodka, caramelised apple juice and cinnamon Winter Crumble being highlights. And the food menu – all meaty stews and broths – demonstrates the same substance and flair. Paradoxical warmth So far, so festive… so familiar? Well, kind of. The theme, drinks and general vibe are ringing a (jingle) bell: reminding CityLife firmly of the Christmas markets. Feeling cold after a day pottering round the stalls? Move into the paradoxical warmth of the North Pole, on to the cocktails and thaw the chill by cutting some rug. Organisers promise a laid-back mix of tunes, one-off DJ performances and club nights. And get there soon: it’ll all be gone come New Year’s Day. THE North Pole Winter Warmer: Festive drinks get a modern Mancunian spin at the North Pole thanks to the creative talents of Northern Quarter bar manager Adam Binnersley, who’s been drafted in to run the bar. Hence the mulled wine sweetened with Vimto, and the delicious Winter Warmer: the sweetness of caramelised apple juice combining beautifully with distinctly Christmassy cinnamon and vodka, in this case Finlandia (who’re sponsoring the outlet). Our top tip? For a tasty variation, try making this with bison grass vodka Zubrowka, that’s flavour profile is the perfect complement to apple.

THIS is a new age of austerity, we are told. So how does one justify spending £135 for a Saturday evening dinner that was really quite straightforward in most respects? It’s not as if I was wearing a top hat and tails and troughing like some engorged Victorian mill-owner – but mills of the dark satanic variety had preyed on my mind all day. I’d spent the afternoon wandering among the wearying work-in-progress that is the gentrification of Victorian industrial heartland Ancoats. I appreciated the tarting-up and pedestrianisation of the terraces behind the old Daily Express Building, where once, as I slaved over a hot deadline, local scamps lifted up my parked 2CV and turned it around by 90 degrees. Another time a tramp broke in and had a snooze on the backseat, - happy days. This was the Little Italy commemorated in the current (and superb) Museum of Science and Industry exhibition. Among the rubble We were bound for the New Islington Festival, a rallying call for regeneration among the rubble. En route, my companion, Prophet of Doom, led me into the glass-roofed entrails of the Royal Mills. Beautiful brick, windows that would spill light into what must be spacious, well-appointed apartments, but all a tad eerie. All around a lot of developments seemed stalled. Here was where folk once built Manchester’s wealth and never benefited. Doom naturally fears the worst for it becoming a new Jerusalem in these straitened times. Beautiful music The festival was a celebration of ‘Urban Folk’. The brief: traditional and cutting edge sharing a stage and making beautiful music together. All to encourage folk to move into the area. How updating the Manchester Shanty, clothing trees in artistic knitting or frolicking in pedaloes in the wide-open spaces of Cotton Field Urban Park was going to help I couldn’t quite fathom. It all felt like Chorlton on sea. A pint of Marble’s finest in a plastic glass, a drenching from a sudden squall and we were off. Ocean liner The lit-up Lowry loomed like an ocean liner across the Irwell. Docked in an equivalent cradle of the Industrial revolution, it’s all just more…well, finished. The last time I reviewed the River Restaurant the England football team was encamped there under the supervison of Old Owl Sven, that inveterate diner-out. In the kitchen was the brilliant Eyck Zimmer, East German-born with an imaginative, slightly skewed take on English food. Now he’s gone and in his place is his former banqueting chef, Oliver Thomas. It was his debut menu we were there to test out. Culinary cudgels Snipers had called it a safe appointment. Why not a big name waltzing in from outside to take up the culinary cudgels? Well, we’ve had those before, the cudgels soon abandoned. It was encouraging that the corporate food at The Lowry was always the best in town. Further encouragement came from a recent lunch where a waiter filleted a Dover sole with great finesse. It was ample and succulent. But it did cost £29 (we were celebrating a birthday), which was a warning. A cursory look at Oliver’s menu (does everyone ask for more!) revealed a similar ‘back to classic basics’ approach. Fine, well-sourced raw materials simply cooked. It reminded me of the agenda put in place by master restaurateur/author Mark Hix at fellow Rocco Forte hotel, Brown’s in London. It is a hard act to get right. The food has no hiding place – or ‘garnish with foam’, as it is known. Slick of sharp dressing Doom went for Whitby dressed crab and that’s what came – brown and white separated by a slight fence of toast, a slick of sharp dressing. Gorgeous, but sourcing rather than saucing. And it was £13.50. At a quid cheaper, my lamb sweetbreads were more of a dish. I had been tempted by fried Burford brown egg with Bury black pudding and baby squid, but a fricassee involving sweetbreads, peas, girolles and wild boar bacon was as inevitable as Doom quoting Friedrich Engels at me across the table. Sheer greed ‘‘From the first day to this, sheer greed was the driving spirit of civilisation,’’ if you must know. I still wolfed the sweetbreads which, despite a flabby texture were offaly good with salty tang from the wild boar bacon and an earthy underpinning from the wild mushrooms. Our wine was a direct, fruity red from Spain’s Ribera del Duero region – Mesoneros de Castilla Roble 2004. A firm wine with lots of (attractive) smokiness and herbs. It cost £23; Marks and Spencer stock the 2006 at £7.19. It matched the sweetbreads beautfiully, similarly my 400g Aberdeenshire fillet steak on the bone (£29.75, ouch). Rare but not true blue, it was handsome well-hung piece of protein and the bearnaise had a tarragon presence. Struggled to separate The Doom-laden One’s Welsh saltmarsh lamb cutlets (£23.75)were served too rare. He struggled to separate flesh from bone. Accompanied by the lightest of bubble and squeaks, the kidneys, a couple of which I speared, were rubbery. Puddings were each £7, a mound of summer pudding for him, a chocolate mousse for me. Both attractive, both dishes I’ve done at home just as well. All quite odd. I just wonder if head office is ruling the roost just a little too much after the maverick excitements of the Eyck era. The dining room operated as usual with an impersonal precision. It was too inclement to dine on the terrace, as during much of the year, so we sat in the corner of that expansive, art-laden dining space, and felt slightly guilty. Perhaps a little more fantasy in the food might have distracted us. Even Victorian cotton barons relished a touch of fantasy. Disabled access: The Lowry Hotel is fully accessible for all guests, there are 12 disabled car parking spaces at the front of the hotel. The valet parkers will ensure they park and return your vehicle as and when requested. There is a ramp to the hotel entrance and large lifts and entrances to ensure there are no access issues.

GRADO is nominated for wine list of the year, (as well as newcomer) in Citylife.co.uk Manchester Food and Drink Awards. Winners will be announced at Monday’s Gala Dinner in the city’s Palace Hotel. Throughout the festival, Mon-Fri, lunch and between 5pm and 7pm, the paul Heathcote-owned Spanish restaurant on New York Street, behind Piccadilly, is showing its credentials with a four-course tapas and wine matching menu, costing £22 per person. We cheated by ordering an extra helping of Pimientos Padron, those ticking time bomb, salty green chillis from Galicia that became so popular for a while M&S stocked them. Grado’s are the real thing, in ever batch a mouth scorcher. Painful but sublime, I got the hit this time. Gambas la Plancha with aioli (grilled prawns with garlic mayonnaise were charred and sweet dipped in their slick emulsion and slightly overwhelmed the wine match, Mas Macia Cava Gran Reserva 2003, which is £5 by the glass on the wine list. I found the next wine, Albarino Orballo 2007, nowhere to be seen on the usual wine list, slightly soapy but this trendy white’s mineral edge coped well with decidedly spicy stuffed squi with chorizo and tomato. Tangles of stewed piquillo Tangles of stewed piquillo peppers provided another authentic spice quotient to swirlsd of slow cooked lamb belly. A comforting Rioja Crianza 2004 from Monte Real was perfect with it. Monte Real Reservas are among the pricier items on this all-Spanish list, but if you want a splurge here, they come highly recommended. Boutinot wines provide the very superior Fernando de Castilla wines. I’ve been to their Jerez bodega (owned by a Norwegian!) and there isn’t a dud wine. Among the pick is their Perdo Ximenez (£5.50 a glass), that sweetly medicinal marvel that may be the world’sa greatest chocolate wine. Expensive though it is, in Andalucia they spoon it over vanilla ice cream. Here, to finish a gorgeous simple lunch it partnered a deep chocolate mousse with plump marinated raisins. A lovely lunch and a reminder of the range of offers across the city that underpin the festival headline events. And don’t take place in a tent!

APART from real life of course, these days we get the bulk of our family dramas courtesy of the soaps but back just post-war the stage was still going strong in this department and this prime example of the now notorious three-act well-made play still manages to demonstrate why the genre was so popular. We are in a Norfolk vicarage on a snowy Christmas Eve in 1947 where we meet the elderly widowed Rev Martin Gregory and find out all about his relationship with his three grown-up children. It transpires that, despite the best of intentions, the vicar has managed to fail his family, who have hidden their problems from him, until now that is. For, as relatives arrive for the Christmas celebrations, skeletons come tumbling out of closets and dad is at last forced to face the facts. Dated format The play, by a now largely forgotten Wynyard Browne (himself the son of a Norfolk clergyman), is not just satisfactorily assembled but also quite sharp in its exploration of religious doubt and the truths that families conceal from each other. Within the context of its dated format it does manage to establish characters with some depth and make you care what happens to them. This touring production comes from Midlands-based Middle Ground Theatre Company, who have had various casts hawking it around the country for the last decade. Unnervingly eccentric This time around Philip Madoc takes the lead and gives a sometimes unnervingly eccentric performance as the father who needs to let one daughter go and reach an understanding with another. He is backed by a cast of several TV faces, including Zoie Kennedy (The Royal) as the daughter who has stayed at home and Corrinne Wicks (Doctors) as the daughter who didn’t and is now struggling to cope with heartbreak. The Holly and The Ivy runs at The Lowry until Saturday, February 21.

A LOT can be learnt about a band from how they react to situations of an unexpected nature. So, when part of the air conditioning system swings down half way through the Noisettes’ gig vocalist Shingai Shoniwa isn’t in the slightest bit phased. “Oh. Let’s just get rid of that,” she says, pulling it from the ceiling and chucking it on to the stage. A venue has never been so affably dismantled, for sure. It’s this kind of ability to shrug off the unexpected, and injury, which has seen the Noisettes through to where they are today. Sublime pop-punk With one album already under their belts, the sublime pop-punk What’s The Time Mr Wolf? and a second on the way this month, it’s a complete mystery as to how they still manage to float under the radar. In fact, on a ranked list of injustices, the fact that The Noisettes’ name doesn’t register more of a reaction from the general public must be pretty near the top. Shingai’s performance was a demonstration of her sheer flexibility, both physically and vocally, as well as being a health and safety officer’s nightmare. Effortless charm No sooner had Shingai thrown off her pumps than she was assailing the stage and all its various peaks and troughs with effortless charm, like a game of three-dimensional Twister. Although there were smatterings of What’s The Time Mr. Wolf? to be heard, notably the album’s stand-out track Scratch Your Name, it was clear that The Noisettes’ agenda was very clearly set on their new material. Particularly second album Wild Young Hearts, which when writing took them right back to the drawing board. Second time round it’s less about thrashing aplomb (although drummer Jamie Morrison still gets his fair share) and more about soul, pop-hooks and melody, which are delivered by the bucket-load. Drizzled in soul Nothing sums this up more astutely than opener Wild Young Heart, a jaunting pop anthem, drizzled in soul and reeking of danceability. At one point Shingai literally takes to the floor, in an attempt for ‘the small ones at the back to get a look in’ and dragging her mic cable (and her willing audience) along in toe and flanked by her camera-wielding aunt. If 2009 is set to be a great year for the girls, with Lady Gaga, Little Boots and La Roux all touted for the big-time, then it can’t be too far a stretch of the imagination to entertain a similar success for the Noisettes. Shingai certainly knew how to win over The Ruby Lounge.