Food Archives - Neil Sowerby

Bacalhau to the future – the time I shared salt cod with Cristiano Ronaldo

The salt cod milestones of my life? We’ll stick with three. Flash back to 2006 when Portugal knocked England out of the World Cup on penalties after Wayne Rooney was sent off. It prompted a notorious wink from his Manchester United team-mate Ronaldo. Not long after, at an intimate Sunday preview of a new Portuguese restaurant on Bridge Street, I was introduced to the still gauche CR7.

Neither of us was going to step over the chance to order Salt Cod Gomes Sa, served with poached egg, crushed potatoes, black olives and spring onions. The Bacalhau was as good as his mum Dolores used to make in Madeira, he told me. And Wayne was still a pal.

A decade later, at a Naples restaurant devoted to what the Italians called Baccalà, I was treated to a six course tasting menu of the stuff, culminating in a dessert that paired the salt cod with chocolate and pine-nuts. Reader, I gagged.

Of course, on markets across the Med, you’ll find those unappetising yellowy strips of dried fish caked in salt that need to be soaked before cooking. The ubiquitous treatment is what the Provencals call Brandade de Morue and the Spanish Brandada de Bacalao. It’s there (main image above) on the new spring menu at Exhibitio n on Peter Street in Manchester, where the Baratxuri kitchen has smoked the potatoes for the whipped olive oil emulsion and boosted it with Basque chorizo. The fish flakes offered intense flavour that has finally won me over to salt cod’s charms.

Keen to dissociate itself from your average food hall, Exhibition is offering a single combined à la carte fusing Baratxuri with fellow fixtures Jaan by Another Hand and OSMA . It is a game to guess which dish came from which chef. Just don’t peep at the latest counter your server is arriving from.

All three operators are a destination in their own right and for OSMA it will be their sole outlet after closing their acclaimed Prestwich restaurant in search of a new city centre equivalent. Spoiler alert. Billed as Scandi-influenced, at Exhibition they puzzlingly offer tuna sashimi and panko chicken thigh tonkatsu. Now that’s what I call mix and match.

Why Bacalhau à Brás remains Ronaldo’s comfort fave

Well over two decades later, as a muscled-up veteran Ronaldo plies his trade for Saudi Pro League club Al Nassr FC, traditional salt cold remains an essential part of a rigorous high protein diet dedicated to career longevity. It may be his one (slight) self-indulgence. Indeed at the CR7 Corner Bar & Bistro Baixa inside the superstar’s Pestana CR7 Lisboa boutique hotel you can order Bacalhau à Brás. Wash it down with a ‘Ballon d’Or’ cocktail.

Brás or Braz in English alludes to its inventor, a bar owner in Lisbon’s Bairro Alto. Brás has since become a technique that can be used to cook various types of fish and even vegetables. It has an onion, garlic, and potato base that is held together by creamy scrambled eggs. The olives are optional.

Buy salted cod (or its Northern European counterpart, stockfish) at Manchester’s Arndale Market or Out of The Blue fishmongers in Chorlton. Essential before you start give it a 24 hours plus soaking. Now create your own Bacalhau à Brás.

INGREDIENTS

500g potatoes

400g salted codfish

1 large onion

2 garlic cloves

5 tbsp olive oil

1 bay leaf

5 eggs

Salt and pepper to taste

Parsley, spring onions and olives.

METHOD

Peel the onion and thinly slice. Set the oven temperature to 230°C.

Peel the potatoes and slice them into thin strips, then into sticks of equal size. Rinse the sticks thoroughly, drain, and pat dry with absorbent paper or cloth. Place them in a bowl and top them with about 3 tbsp of olive oil. Place the sticks on an oven tray sprayed with olive oil. Check that they don’t overlap. Cook until golden in batches, flipping halfway through.

Place the cod in a pan, pour boiling water and keep the heat on a high flame. Cook for around eight minutes. Drain, reserving the water in a bowl.

Heat 2 tbsp olive oil in a large frying pan and over a medium heat.Fry the onion until it becomes transparent. It should take roughly six minutes. Cook for three minutes more after adding the garlic and bay leaf.

Manually shred the cod, eliminating any bones or skin. Introduce the cod into the onion mixture, stirring occasionally and cook for 5 minutes.

Pour the eggs into a small bowl and whisk them together. Incorporate them into the fish mixture. Cook it on a low heat while continually stirring. The eggs must be cooked while remaining fluffy. Stir in the potatoes and season with black pepper and salt to taste. Garnish with the parsley, spring onions and olives.

9 April 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Food, Restaurants

On a rewarding London spice trail I went crackers for starry Anglo Thai

Dusk in deepest Marylebone. Surprised to see swanky Seymour Place still retains an old school hardware shop. It’s shut for the day, so no chance of an impromptu ‘four candles’ purchase. Across the street is my destination – a restaurant years in pop-up gestation, that has won a Michelin star just three months after opening. Anglo Thai’s mission statement? Thai cuisine cooked with British ingredients.

So I have to thank Devon for the Brixham crab and Exmoor caviar that combine in a signature dish that has been a constant on chef John Chantarasak’s journey here. It is as ravishing as the arty upmarket beach-shack fit-out. White crab meat in a coconut cream, topped generously with the fish eggs. To be spread over a coconut ash cracker shaped like some religious symbol. I worshipped it.

John himself is the embodiment of the hybrid. Born in Liverpool to a Thai father and English mother, he was raised in the Wye Valley. Great British Menu 2020 claimed him for Wales, six years after he returned from Bangkok to work at Som Saa in Spitalfields (founded by two Englishmen). Out of all this sprung the peripatetic Anglo-Thai pop-up with sommelier wife Desiree.

Along the way they fashioned their culinary ethos, built around modern fermentation techniques (John makes his own fish sauce from kitchen scraps) while limiting the amount of imported raw materials. Fresh galangal, lime leaves and lemongrass are still flown in, but chillies can be grown seasonally in the UK and souring agents such as lime and tamarind can be replaced by British-grown sea buckthorn, rhubarb and under ripe gooseberries. Similarly ivy pollen honey from Glastonbury can be substituted for palm sugar. I’m less sure, on the evidence of my Anglo Thai dinner, of serving our heritage grains instead of rice. I love Hon Mali, the pandan scented jasmine rice from North Eastern Thailand. Barley not so much.

Mentored by David Thompson, creator of groundbreaking Nahm

John’s Bangkok grounding combined its Cordon Bleu school and a stint at Nahm restaurant with David Thompson, the Australian Thai cuisine guru. The bright pink dust jacket of his encyclopaedic Thai Food has sat on my kitchen shelf since it was published in 2002 (the hefty, heavily illustrated slab that is Thai Street Food is consigned to the attic), the year after he opened the original Nahm restaurant inside Belgravia’s Halkin Hotel. Like Anglo-Thai, it swiftly won over Michelin, becoming the first ever Thai restaurant to be awarded a star.

We once ha d a luxury stayat the Halkin and, even if the dining room was a bit shiny Bangkok boudoir, Thompson’s fine dining interpretation of dishes from across the regions felt revelatory. A world away from the pub Thai green curries that were already traducing the tradition. I was already sourcing my own spice paste ingredients but was five years away from visiting the distant reaches of their culinary homeland.

Not all the critics were so impressed with Nahm. A splenetic Jonathan Meades wrote: “Nahm’s cooking is all legerdemain, trickery, disguise, technical flashiness for its own sake; take the extraordinary waffles or rösti-like things made with rehydrated fish – the skill is patent, but the result is boring. Nothing tastes of itself. Most of the dishes taste of chilli, which is used with coarse abandon.”

Jay Rayner was kindlier, but shared Meades’ suspicion about a Sydney-born chef being master of all things fish sauce and lemongrass. Had they never heard of Pacific Rim? Whatever, for him, the whole operation smacked of colonialism. And the food? “There were a couple of high points. But it did not redefine my understanding of Thai food. I was left with those familiar flavour memories: of sweet and sour, of nut and chilli and coriander, just as I am after any good Thai meal.”

In 2012 Thompson closed the Halkin outpost two years after opening a second branch of Nahm in Bangkok. This soon earned a star and then a place in the World’s Top 50 restaurants. That’s all in the past and late last year Thompson, now in his sixties, returned to London to launch a version of his Sydney casual diner Long Chim.

It occupies the ground floor of Soho Greek/Turkish spot Hovarda. A Thai pop-up, who would have thought it? Alas, my plans to check out Long Chim during a recent London visit were stymied by the dreaded ‘closed on Monday’. Instead I went on a pilgrimage to four Thai restaurants across the capital that have reordered the way we think about the cuisine. Two hold Michelin Bib Gourmands, Anglo Thai that shiny new star.

Try Thai? Here are the four hot spots I sampled on a flying visit

Long Chim means ‘Come and Try It’, but of course I couldn’t. Kolae at Borough Market had the advantage of being open on a Monday. It is a spin-off from Som Saa, which translates as ‘bitter orange’. Kolae itself means ‘fishing boat’ but also refers to food from southern Thailand that is marinated, basted, grilled, slathered and drenched in a paste of coconut curry. That is very much its focus.

Kiln in Brewer Street, Soho gets its name from a furnace, appropriate to its take on the fire-based cooking of Northern Thailand. Two dozen walk-in covers, most on the counter by the grills, does raise a punter sweat. All part of the excitement, when you eventually bag a seat. It doesn’t match Kolae, though, for the regular whoosh of wok flames.

My third new wave Thai (open Monday evenings, there is a God) was Kiln’s stablemate, Smoking Goat, which shares the same in your face prepping and duplicates some barbecue items (the naans are all their own). It started off in Soho’s Denmark Street but now is a linchpin of the Shoreditch hipster scene, more barlike as befits a homage to Bangkok’s late night canteens (sic). I loved the fun of it.

As you may gather, Anglo Thai is a very different beast. Not just through its slogan ‘Rooted in Thailand, Uniquely British’ but because of its casual fine dining feel, with a £110 tasting menu and serious, mainly natural, wine list in a 50 cover space conceived by Thai-American designer May Redding. Obviously at some expense to the investors, the MJMK restaurant group. Grace Dent, a fellow fan, swooned over ‘strategically placed Lampang Province ceramics’ and ‘flattering Ban Pa Ao lighting’. I was impressed by the strategically informed staff.

So what were the highlights of my new wave Thai spice crawl?

KOLAE

Start your meal in this bright 80 cover space (above) in a former railway arch with the grilled mussel skewers (£6). They have been steeped in a nutty marinade, grilled twice over a smouldering coconut, then enhanced by a squeeze of calamansi lime. As well as stone grinding their own curry pastes the team prepare fresh coconut milk every morning and this imparted a vivid freshness to my southern gati curry of tiger prawns with cumin leaf (£17). Initially gentle, both dishes left a chilli hit on the palate. Sourcing is important. Meat comes from Swaledale in Yorkshire, fish from the South Coast each morning. Veg is UK organic, their new season rice is from ethical suppliers Paddi.

KILN

I was warned my venison jungle curry was not for the faint-hearted. I handled this North Thai style challenge (£16.20) well; my neighbour at the counter was left gasping for water after the spice kick of his som tam of radish and beetroot. Always the salads. Kiln remains cheerfully uncompromising. They too source day boat fish, their Tamworth pigs (pork is a key menu element) are bred specially for them by Fred Price in Somerset, the cull yaw mutton comes from a certain Mike Chatfield. I was lucky to squeeze in at the counter on arrival. A squad of besmitten walk-ins waited their turn with supreme nose-twitching patience.

SMOKING GOAT

Cull yaw in ‘sai oua’ Northern Thai sausage form (£4.90) was one of my starters at Smoking Goat, where I mounted my latest counter stool. I also felt I had to try the sweet and smoky house special of fish sauce chilli wings (£3.90) – perfect bar food for the new West Coast IPA in my life. But what made the trek into Shoreditch memorable was a turmeric pepper BBQ gurnard (£17), the whole fleshy fish splayed out for easy access. With strips of naan and a winter radish som tam with citrus eclectically sourced from Valencia’s Todoli Foundation I constructed my own sustainable fish butties. Bliss.

ANGLO THAI

Fish was a main in Anglo Thai’s beautifully presented 10 course tasting menu. A tranche of pollock in a lake of orange curry. At all the previous Thai stop-offs I had avoided the souplike sour curries. Now was the moment of reckoning. After a Carlingford oyster dressed in fermented chilli with sea buckthorn it was the spiciest dish on the menu, mitigated by sweetheart cabbage two ways, including a cute impersonation of a stuffed banana leaf.

An intriguing substitute for satay sauce was made from sunflower seeds to accompany a grilled Jerusalem artichoke dish. Very true to project, yet Todoli citrus again, made an appearance with lemongrass and pine in a pre-dessert. Anglo-Spanish?

This was Thai food on a different level. Rather than compare it to the other three, fine in their own way, restaurants look for comparisons to the Michelin starred Indian cuisine of Chet Sharma at Bibi over in Mayfair. My recommendation: visit both for equally thrilling spice-driven food.

A country of many cuisines – read up on Thai food heritage

Chef patron Chantarasak has found time to write his own recipe book, Kin Thai, and modestly recommends David Thompson’s magnum opus. I look no further than Austin Bush’s duo of intensely researched travelogues – The Food of Northern Thailand (2018) and the The Food of Southern Thailand (2024). This American expat is based in the country, a fluent Thai speaker and a compulsive traveller, who has has contributed to Lonely Planet and rival guides to South Eastern Asia.

His latest book is a visual revelation, too. His photography skills capture the vividness of diverse dishes such as Pork Braised with Soy Sauce, Pepper and Brown Sugar; a Rice Salad with Budu Dressing; a Spicy Dip of Smoked Shrimp; and Simmered Black Sticky Rice with Taro and Jackfruit. In Southern Thailand Chinese, Malay and Muslim cuisines come together in one cultural melting pot.

24 February 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Food, Uncategorised

A tale of two Sohos: anarchist assassins and hospitality incubators

Ravioli di zucca, you should be my Proustian madeleine moment when Lina Stores expands into Manchester this spring. Fingers crossed these little pasta parcels of pumpkin and ricotta make the cut, to be served doused in butter, sage and Grana Padano.

For a while this old favourite of mine no longer seemed a fixture on the menu of the Italian icon that has swollen since my first encounter in Eighties Soho. Just as I have, thanks to a lifetime of carbs. At the last count Lina currently comprises three delis and seven restaurants across London with a further three outposts in Japan – a statement in itself.

The original family deli, where they used to bag up the ravioli for me (in sheets of greaseproof sprinkled with Parmesan) still occupies its corner site at 18 Brewer Street. Here fresh pasta continues to be made, under the perfectionist eye of consultant head chef Masha Rener, who perfected her dough skills in Umbria. The premises themselves have set the design template for the burgeoning Lina chain (the first spin-off restaurant was in nearby Greek Street). Think signature pistachio-green exterior and colourful floor to ceiling shelffuls.

No Manchester expansion ill omens, I hope, in the presence next door at no.16 Brewer Street of Randall & Aubin. That fellow Soho fixture opened 30 years before Lina in 1911 as London’s first French butchers, supplying Sir Winston Churchill and both the Ritz and Savoy.

In 1996, under new ownership, it reopened as a seafood-led restaurant, while retaining, even gussying up, the original Edwardian features. That incarnation is still there but R&A over-stretched themselves with an ill-starred Manchester franchise in 2016. Within a year the liquidators were called in and it was salvaged before finally limping off into the sunset. Kaji, formerly Musu, now occupies the Bridge Street site.

The other day I passed Lina Stores’ starkly functional new venue on Quay Street, its huge expanse of glass mirroring the Opera House opposite. At 150 covers, it doesn’t yell ‘just like Mama used to make’. Nor does the all-day, breakfast to cocktail ethos honed across South Ken, Marylebone, Kings Cross, Broadgate Circle et al.

Lina’s arrival in Manchester mirrors that of other reassuring mid-size brands from The Smoke – Flat Iron, Blacklock, Caravan following in the footsteps of Dishoom, Rosa’s Thai, Honest Burgers and, on a different level, the mighty Hawksmoor.

How Lina’s pumpkin ravioli were my Eighties lifeline

My own Lina loyalty was always tenuous. I’d followed the national newspapers south when they’d shut their northern offices. Just a four day week toiling in The Street of Shame but still three nights away (and too much time spent in Fleet Street watering holes) before an all too fleeting long weekend with my family in the Pennines. It couldn’t last.

Back then pasta, parmesan and pesto, let alone fresh basil, weren’t staples of the supermarket shelves, even if chemists shops were no longer the source of our olive oil. That’s where Soho came in as a place to stock up on Roman and Tuscan exotica (of the culinary variety). Lina Stores wasn’t even my deli of choice. That honour went to I Camisa & Son around the corner in Old Compton Street. Like Lina, it had changed hands but felt immutable. My life didn’t as I clutched my consignment of San Daniele Prosciutto and Parmigiano Reggiano and sprinted for Euston.

Soho retains my affection to this day and I’ve waxed nostalgic about its legacy on this s ite while championing today’s culinary heroes – Jeremy Lee at Quo Vadis and Tomos Parry at Mountain, Oisin Rodgers’ Guinness-centric Devonshire and Noble Rot occupying what was the Gay Hussar… not forgetting the searing take on Northern Thai from the team at Kiln.

Of old haunts, my sole constant is the 150-year-old Maison Bertaux in Greek Street for café au lait and croissant. Since 1988 it has been in loving English hands, two sisters steeped in its culture, so changes have been sympathetic. Compare with its one-time rival in Old Compton Street. Patisserie Valerie.

From small-scale brand building in the late Eighties it rose to nearly 200 branches nationally before plunging dramatically in the last decade with much publicised financial nightmares and wholesale closures, among them the lacklustre Deansgate, Manchester cafe.

Lina Stores has been a quite different proposition, having got into bed with White Rabbit Projects, a self-styled ‘hospitality incubator’ whose CEO is former Soho House commercial director Chris Miller. His team have obviously brokered the big investment in what was solely a family-run deli for decades. Cannily the Lina website comprehensively surveys that Little Italy legacy, celebrating both the folksy side and the start-studded patronage.

It may just be me but I love this anecdote: “In the mid-20th century, the rooms above the delicatessen were used for auditions and rehearsals for nearby theatres in the West End. Later, they were rented by John Calder, who ran his publishing business from there. Many faces visited Calder over the years, including Samuel Beckett, who often came over from Paris and stayed overnight, playing Calder’s Bechstein grand piano into the early hours.”

Soho was once packed with food stores. Confusingly there were two Camisas – I Camisa and Fratelli Camisa. All down to the brothers Ennio and Isidoro Camisa, who created the business in the 1920s. Later after wartime internment they fell out and becoming bitter commercial rivals with separate Soho stores. How very Italian, you might say. Now neither survives in tangible form. Fratelli, once of Berwick Street, went online long ago, while I Camisa, having won a stay of execution for two years after support from the Save Soho campaigners, shut for good in the autumn.

When I walked past the other day it was shuttered up and sad. Still Old Compton Street, with its strong gay community, remains a vibrant stretch. Camisa’s neighbour has recently been reborn as Poppie’s, a chippie with a retro seventies vibe. In the 1950s it was the 2is coffee bar, where the young Cliff Richard was discovered. So many Soho ghosts.

Anarchy in W1: King Bomba v Mussolini

One of Soho’s real old school delis was King Bomba (above). The quarter had been home to North Italian immigrants from the late 19th century, many fleeing political unrest. That was the certainly the case with King Bomba founder Emidio Recchioni, born near Ravenna in 1864. Originally a rail worker/activist, his anarchist beliefs led him to found a radical newspaper, swiftly suppressed. Summary executions were carried out on his comrades and Recchioni was implicated in an assassination attempt on the Prime Minister. Acquitted, he still served harsh jail terms before fleeing to London at the turn of the century.

In 1909 he opened his groundbreaking grocery – where else – in Old Compton Street. Profits from Parmesan and pasta helped fund the exiled radicals who made it their rendezvous. In 1932 a failed attempt on the life of Mussolini was linked to Recchioni after the hired assassin was tortured into a confession. This unrepentant anti-Fascist’s British passport spared him retribution. Two years later he was dead, buried in Kensal Green Cemetery; King Bomba lived on until 1971. I wonder if ravioli di zucca was on the menu?

20 February 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Food, Restaurants

The Sampa basement tapes – Caroline Martins’ 10 Brazilian food tips

At the end of a copacetically intimate Chef’s Table dinner deep under Manchester’s Northern Quarter our host, Caroline Martins, whispered to me that liquid nitrogen was back on her S AMPA bucket list. Which might mean the return of the psychedelic Jackson Pollock inspired dessert that wowed the crowd at the supper club she used to run at Blossom Street Social in Ancoats.

Maybe you recall this Brazilian chef’s signature splatfest on a platter that owed as much to the visual alchemy of Chicago super chef Grant Achatz as Pollock’s Abstract Expressionist peak.

Our gourmet chihuahua Captain Smidge admired it from a distance. He wasn’t allowed a taste of the basil custard and coconut yoghurt scrawled across a huge black base or the dotted cubes of coconut candy, cassava biscuit and guava/banana candy. Definitely too rich for him the centrepiece – a smashed ‘bowl of, containing passion fruit mousse, rose petals, coconut granola, meringue and marshmallow.

Not just any chocolate. This was Dormouse, crafted inside the Great Northern by the city’s artisan chocolatier par excellence, Isobel Carse, using imported Brazilian cocoa beans. Great to see it remains a constant now Caroline has shifted her operation to Calcio on Dale Street, the sports she runs with husband Tim. It comes in the shape of another edible artwork – a chocolate and guava ‘mushroom’ mimicking a fly agaric.

That was the dessert climax of a 12 course tasting menu, served in the basement of the bar – remarkable value at £58 a head (drinks pairing, mostly Latin American wines and spirits just £35, mixed cachaças £35, soft £25). When we first visited the new venue the former Great British Menu contestant had cornered off a section of the screen-filled bar proper; the new set-up is far less distracting.

Still, when I nipped upstairs for a ‘comfort break’ midway through I came upon a screen showing the Championship derby between Preston and my team, Blackburn Rovers. I might have been torn if the feast that was being served down the stairs was not so captivating. Eight diners at a counter, close to the kitchen action, being talked through ingredients and techniques with a vivacious passion.

In this latest manifestation of her talent Caroline, a former scientist from São Paulo, has restrained the molecular gastronomy wizardry without sacrificing the intense flavour profiles. Less showy now but her devotion to the exotic produce of her South American food heritage is, if anything, more evident.

She is keen to point out: “It is a deeply personal project, blending the rich culinary traditions of my hometown (Sampa was the city’s nickname), with incredible local ingredients and suppliers.”

Evidence the ex-dairy cow ribeye sourced from cutting edge Littlewoods butchers in Heaton Chapel, out of which she conjured a remarkable steak experience. A big shout out also for the locally traceable ‘Dan and the Bees’ raw honey, Chalkstream smoked trout and, further afield Eduardo Souza ethical foie gras from Spain’s Extremadura region. I first read about the latter in Dan Barber’s groundbreaking The Third Plate.

Key ingredients on the above menu, though, come from Brazil. I couldn’t resist requesting her to talk me through them.

Requeijão

“That’s a Brazilian-style cream cheese we make in the house by splitting whey/curd from Jersey milk using lime juice. After that, I emulsify the curd using butter. That’s a very traditional technique from in the state of Minas Gerais in Brazil. It goes well and is spreadable for bread and toast, but it also goes well with smoked fatty fish – that’s why I used it with smoked chalkstream trout.”

Cassava

“A Brazilian tuberculous vegetable. It’s very starchy and grows well in tropical countries. In Brazil we use more cassava than potatoes. I like to employ it in different forms. For the scallops I made a puree and used as a mousseline. We like to use it as a crumble for meats and fish (farofa). During summer it makes natura, chopped with mayo – like a potato salad.”

Biquinho pepper

“That’s a variety of chilli pepper used in Brazil but not very common to see here in the UK. They are sweet and fruity, with very mild hot notes. I like to use them because they are mild and don’t interfere with the flavours from other ingredients. They are also easy to ferment and preserve. I get my biquinhos fresh from Brazil and ferment them in 3 per cent brine for 1 month. After that, I preserve them in sugar cane vinegar. With a smoked quail egg they made a perfect canapé.”

Heart of palm

“In Brazil we use the whole palm tree: the fruits for palm oil, the leaves to make recyclable plates/cups/forks for takeaways. We use the cores of the tree (heart-of-palm) by cooking them for hours in a pressure cooker until tender, then preserve in 3 per cent brine. I like to use heart of palm with scallops because the texture and mild sweetness reminds me of scallops.

Guava

“Delicious tropical fruit – I usually see white-flash guavas here in Europe. But in Brazil we only use the pink-flesh guava. That’s my favourite fruit. I grew up eating guava fresh from the trees. In Brazil we use it fresh, or we make a paste called goiabada. For your meal I used fresh pink-flesh guava as an ice cream for dessert and also goiabada on top of the Extremadura foie gras.”

Acai berry

“That’s a berry from Amazonia, rich in antioxidants. Some people say they are one of those “superfoods” hence there are so many businesses profiting from acai bowls. In Brazil they are traditionally served with fish as pastes, marinades or in sauces, etc… With the hake I served it as a caponata by marinating black olives in acai puree and then chopping it. The ‘earthy’ notes from acai complement fishes such as hake that have mild fat content.”

Brazilian green fig

“Brought to Brazil by the Portuguese when they colonised us. It’s a green fig slow cooked for hours in sugar syrup, then preserved in the same syrup. When we make it, I like to shave some cumaru (tonka bean) in the syrup to add another tasting dimension to the preparation.”

Canjica

“It’s a white corn, traditionally used in sweet preparations, but I’ve also been using it in savoury dishes. You had it cooked as a risotto, with lots of butter. I love the texture and the neutral flavour profile. It complements strong meats such as the wild mallard duck. I’ve been growing koji on canjica and it’s starting to taste great! I might use it as a petit four by dipping it in dark chocolate (inspired by chef Gareth Ward from Ynyshir. He does it with barley).”

Coalho

“Colaho is a popular Brazilian cheese similar to paneer in texture. Everyone barbecues it because it does not melt away under strong heat. It’s usually served with steak in barbecues, that’s why I wanted to use it with the dairy cow ribeye, mixing it with winter truffle to stuff a raviolo.

Pão de queijo

“A Brazilian cheese bread made from cassava flour, eggs, milk and cheese. In Brazil we use ‘canastra cheese’, but here in the UK I like to use mild cheddar. It’s one of the staples of Brazilian gastronomy. Each family has their own recipe. Mine comes from my grandmother Thereza. She lived in the state of Minas Gerais (where pão de queijo was invented).”

SAMPA Brazilian-British Fusion Chef’s Table ,Calcio bar, 24 Dale Street, Manchester, M1 1FY.

9 February 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Food, Restaurants

Winsome restaurant looks a perfect showcase for top chef Shaun Moffat

It was a wild boar that brought us together – in the shape of a glorious Barnsl ey chop. The dish confirmed the impressive culinary credentials of Shaun Moffat, then head chef at The Edinburgh Castle.

Hence this rhapsody: “I enjoyed one of the great meat dishes of my life upstairs at the EC – a wild boar Barnsley chop. Proper beef dripping chips and mixed kale on the side and a big puddle of Shaun’s sauce, concocted from a stock from duck carcass and pig trotters, mirepoix and herbs, then reduced and infused with pepper dulse, lemon thyme and a snifter of Julian Temperley’s Somerset Cider brandy (we enjoyed a shot later with our post-prandial madeleines).”

Such prowess earned the Ancoats hostelry a swift entry into the Top 50 Gastropubs and Shaun Chef of the Year at the 2023 Manchester Food and Drink Awards. As a senior judge I had a say in the latter.

Shaun also oversaw stablemate The Lamb of Tartary. When that shut last year he jumped ship for glitzy Manchester newcomers Maya. Small world: its chef Gabe Lea swapped to the Castle, where tenures have been as brief as Watford football managers’. Shaun’s talented predecessors included Iain Thomas (The Pearl) and Julian Pizer (Another Hand) were both Best Chef contenders at the recent MFDF Awards. I understand Gabe may be moving on, too.

*An ebullient Shaun celebrates winning Manchester Chef of the Year*

A Winsome welcome for the wild boar whizz

Against this rollercoaster backdrop it’s great to seeShaun reemerging as Chef Patron of an exciting new Manchester city centre restaurant opening this spring. It’s called Winsome (maybe not a name for your pet wild boar but hey) and promises ‘Northern hospitality at its heart… British cooking in the kitchen, Old World wines on the shelves, passion, care and detail in delivery.”

You’ll find Winsome on Princess Street (adjoining the Whitworth Locke Hotel) it sounds a perfect fit for the Moffat magic in the way that Maya wasn’t. The dream is to replicate the quality of previous stand-outs on his cv – the London likes of St Leonards, John Salt Hix (all now shut), Berber & Q and the marvellous Manteca.

The next step, Winsome, will provide him with a team geared for similar excellence.

*Shaun flanked by and Tom Fastiggi and Owain Willliams*

The drinks programme is in the expert hands of Tom Fastiggi, previously of Schofield’s Bar and extends into Whitworth Locke’s Atrium hotel bar, which excites Fastiggi: “The Atrium space truly gives a unique feel to this bar. It’s a great new addition to Manchester’s hospitality scene.”

Completing the team will be Owain Williams; founder of Belzan in Liverpool, Madre and Manchester’s Medlock Canteen.

7 February 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Beer, Food, Restaurants

How I grew to love the Bermondsey bounty at Borough’s expense

A Pondicherry fish curry in a French bistro, basmati rice from remote Piemonte flatlands and a raft of six pale ales each made from different Kiwi hops – all part of a delicious dash for freedom from the crush of Saturday afternoon Borough Market.

OK, I should have known better with a few daylight hours to spare in London. A wonderful Waiting for Godot with Ben Whishaw and Medieval Women: In Their Own Words at The British Library had quenched my cultural cravings. Now for quality time with gourmandise.

On my last capital visit I’d found much to admire at Camille at 2-3 Stoney Street opposite the food mecca, so Gallic symmetry demanded I check out Café Fr ançois further along at 14-16 (restraining my urge for my habitual pint of Harvey’s Sussex Best in The Market Porter at no.9). The pub was heaving anyway, like the inside of the Market, which I had made the mistake of trying to traverse untrampled.

Overtourism is a buzz word of the moment, but who would wish to revert to earlier times at Borough Market? Maybe not the 12th century beginnings on this site when bartering turnips for gruel was trade. No, before 1998, when the old fruit and veg market was on its knees, undermined by the power of the supermarkets. Then the decision was made to switch upmarket into a bazaar of artisan foodstuffs to tantalise the tastebuds of the chattering classes. A plan that has worked so brilliantly that it is wise to choose your moment to duck the tourist hordes. The prices, though, remain on the ambitious side, even if you roll up on a Tuesday morning. Weekends are just mayhem as the queues for average ‘street food’ stretch as long as, well, a street.

A parade of fine new restaurants is a reason to brave the Borough overload

In contrast, a big plus at Borough in recent times has been the arrival of proper restaurants on the edge of the market. Also on Stoney Street, stripped back Sri Lankan diner R ambutan, which I ea gerly anticipated and then enjoyed immensely.

The most hyped recent arrivals have been Akara, https://www.akaralondon.co.uk/ a West African cuisine sibling of Michelin-starred Akoya in Fitzrovia and Oma, https://www.oma.london/ a high end Greek place from Smokestak and Manteca founder David Carter.

A theme here is: big acclaim elsewhere, let’s bite on Borough. Hence Café François, which has sprung from the fancy success of Maison François near Fortnum and Mason. This more casual spin-off is also styled as an all-day Gallic-inspired brasserie and the simple, classic plates sport the joint’s name. More casual it may be but the designers have been given free rein to transform this former Paul Smith store. Stylewise it’s head and padded shoulders above anywhere else in the foodie ‘hood.

Further good news? It’s also fun with exceptional service despite it being flavour of the moment. A well thought out French flavour. Well so is Cafe Rouge. Except the François food is light years better. It’s never going to be Bouchon Racine but it’s not aiming for that crowd (well mine and Jay Rayner’s crowd). Henry Harris’s determinedly old school French bistro above a pub in Farringdon would never run to a glass-fronted dessert kiosk stuffed with patisserie and Paris-Brests. Open from breakfast, Café François is still going strong for mid-afternoon sugar rushes.

Arriving around then I perversely ordered a curry. So should they rename it Café Indienne? Don’t forget there is a very French foothold in the Sub-continent, around Pondicherry. Hence the Vadouvan as their contribution to Indian cuisine – featuring a smoky spice mix and plenty of garlic and shallots. Quite mild this £24 bistro version with plentiful monkfish and a scattering that made an orangey mess as I prised them from the rice.

More colonial influence the presence of a soft shell crab bánh mì on the menu; the Vietnamese love (and supply most of France’s) frog’s legs but the crispy cuisses de grenouille are served with a trad sauce ravigote.

Eclectic touches aside there is a solid bistro/bouchon feel to the menu. A starter portion of exemplary if mustardy tartare du boeuf cost me £18. I drank one of my favourite rosés, Domaine de Triennes from Aix-en-Provence.

Enjoyable but my beating Borough Heart belongs to Camille. It’s a promenade de cinq minutes from La Gare de London Bridge; turn into Stoney Street, veer immediately left and you are in some modest estaminet on the Left Bank back in the Fifties. In truth it’s a plain room, untouched by any cute designer’s hand.

Ignore the melee outside and tuck into escargots, crispy pig’s ear, frisée and apple, and smoked eel devilled eggs, as I did, before Highland Angus tartare with chestnuts and topped with a fluffy cloud of grated Lincolnshire Poacher. A tie on the tartare with its rival down the street.

Chef Elliot Hashtroudi, once of St John, is on top of his Gallic game. As dusk dropped and candles were lit I started humming La Vie en Rose. But that was a while back. On this November Saturday it was time to make my escape from Borough Market. One Underground stop away is Battersea. Present Oyster Card.

Hardly the New Frontier but Bermondsey has a pioneering buzz

I had two reasons to go to Bermondsey – the K ernel Brewery Taproom and the Ham & Cheese Co, neither or which I’d made it to previously. Indeed the Taproom is a smart newcomer, opened only in August. Not every venue in this end of town is now confined to an arch.

Ham & Cheese is. It does what it says on the label imports the finest charcuterie and cheese from Italy. Plus olives, oil, pulses, rice, capers and much, much more, all sourced directly from producers that genuinely qualify as ‘artisan’. I discovered it through the charcuterie for platters they supplied to Coin in Hebden Bridge down the Valley from us. Regular online orders proved a lifeline throughout the lockdowns. My only caveat you could only buy my favourite Mortadella whole – 2.3kg for £65. They recommend eating it with three days, too and there was a further obstacle – I don’t own a commercial slicer.

Gioia! On the counter at their base in Dockley Industrial Estate there sat a hunk of mortadella to be sold by the 100g and cut wafer thin. Is per favore.

Their source in the Bologna Apennines, Aldo Zivieri, keeps his rare breed Mora Romagnola pigs or free range large whites in 40 hectares of pristine woodland and slaughters them at 14-16 months in his own small abattoir before applying traditional charcutier’s skills.

My prime mission was accomplished too. The new season’s extra virgin olive oil had arrived only five days before from the Abruzzo. It is made from a tough little olive called intosso, which only yields fruit above an altitude of 350m. A labour of love indeed. It has only survived as a varietal thanks to pressure from the Slow Food Movement. When I got home and opened the bottle of Casino di Caprafico the colourswas vibrantly, verdantly green with a huge, grassy perfume. At £42 for 75cl it’s a luxury to be sprinkled sparingly, but when even commercially produced olive oils are soaring price my advice is bugger £10 Berio.

I went for Abruzzo oil and came away with Piemonte basmati

A final surprise package, literally, was – alongside the customary Carnaroli rice for risotto – was Riso Gange with its remarkable back story. Let me quote the Ham & Cheese Co notes on this aromatic basmati style long grain rice also grown in Piemonte by Igiea Adami…

“In 1821 Igiea’s distant relative, Paolo Solaroli, was exiled to India for his revolutionary ideas. There he made his fortune, married an Indian princess, returned to Piedmont in 1867 and bought the tiny hamlet of Beni di Busonengo to grow rice. It is in an area of wild flatlands called the Baraggia, now a nature reserve, where poor, clay soil fed with cold waters channeled straight off the Monte Rosa massif in the Alps provides the perfect growing conditions for rice.”

And it was suitable for the ‘Riso Gange’. Each pack that Igiea sells she donates money to the Indian charity Samparc in Calcutta. Just before I wrote this piece I used it to make a kedgeree and it worked a dream.

The Ham & Cheese store only opens for a few hours every Saturday; the nearby Kernel Brewery Taproom closes Monday and Tuesday but is open up to 10 hours a day the rest of the week.

At least until the end of 2024 Kernel is hosting a kitchen residency with Yagi Izakaya, serving Japanese-inspired comfort food such as gyoza, udon and karaage. It would be intriguing to see how such dishes match with Kernel’s classic dark beers. I couldn’t resist sampling the 7.1 per cent Export Stout 1890 but balked at the 9.5 per cent Imperial Russian Stour, cleansing my palate with one of six individually hopped NZ pale ales. I took my server’s advice and went for the Rakau. It was a resinous treat. Does Kernel ever brew a dull beer? It has been 16 years since Evin O’Riordan started brewing at his original Druid Street site and it remains the benchmark for all the other breweries along the ‘Bermondsey Beer Mile’. Many were lined up in the Enid Street arches (including the London outpost of Manchester’s own Cloudwater) as I walked back to Borough Market, hoping in vain the hordes might have dispersed.

Some special treats to add to your Bermondsey basket

My tip: stop off at the Maltby Street Market on the Ropewalk for your street food, having stocked up at some of the classy food outlets clustered around Ham & Cheese and Kernel on the Dockley Road Industrial Estate. Most of therm do online retail. I liked the look of The Fresh Fish Shop at Unit 8, foraged mushroom and truffle specialists The Wild Room at Unit 3.

In the adjacent Apollo Business Park I recommend Maltby and Greek at Arch 17, a real Hellenic Aladdin’s Cave (sic) from the UK’s leading importer of Greek foods with an impressive wine selection, too, and at Arches 1-11 the cheesy cornucopia that is N eal’s Yard Dairy. Less hectic than the Borough branch, naturally. I rest my case.

FACT FILE

I stayed at the Z Hotel Covent Garden, 31-33 Bedford St, London WC2E 9ED, a delightful bolthole which backs on to St Paul’s Church and overlooks Covent Garden Piazza. It’s a haven of quiet despite being in the heart of the tourist action (you’ve gathered I don’t like crowds). There’s so much to do in this area of great restaurants and theatres, including the Royal Opera House. For my Borough Market/Bermondsey break-out I caught the Jubilee Line at Westminster.

29 January 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Drink, Food, Restaurants

All the winners from The MFDF Awards 2024 on a night of New Century celebration

A starry newcomer and a revitalising pioneer of the region’s food culture were the big winners at the 2024 Manchester Food and Drink Awards. Tom Barnes, once a linchpin of Michelin 3-star L’Enclume in Cumbria, won Best Chef and Best Newcomer for Skof after just six months in the city, while Sam Buckley’s Stockport flagship WhereThe Light Gets In was named Restaurant of the Year for the second time in three years. Sam also took the Outstanding Achievement Award for eight years of innovation, championing sustainability and helping put Stockport on the culinary map.

And, of course, the 18 categories up for grabs in front of 350 hospitality professionals at the New Century Hall, weren’t all about big hitters. The presence of ‘Affordable Eats’ and ‘Best Takeaway’ offered their own statement on the strength of the local scene in the face of continuing pressures on the industry. On the day of the Awards the Almost Famous burger chain went under.

The 135 contenders in the MFDF Awards were selected by a panel of judges made up of leading food and drink experts, writers and critics. Shortlisted venues were put to the public vote via the MFDF website where thousands of food and drink fans voted for their favourite winner. Scores from a mystery shopping visit, carried out by members of the judging panel, were also combined with the public vote for some of the awards to determine the winners.
Here is this year’s awards list in full (for addresses visit this link:)…

Restaurant of the Year – Where The Light Gets In

Shortlisted: Skof, Higher Ground, Another Hand, The Pearl, Restaurant Örme, Mana, Adam Reid At The French , Where the Light Gets In.

Chef of the Year – Tom Barnes (Skof)

Shortlisted: Iain Thomas (The Pearl), Joe Otway (Higher Ground), Sam Grainger (Medlock Canteen), Patrick Withington (Erst), Danielle Heron (OSMA), Sam Buckley (Where The Light Gets In), Julian Pizer (Another Hand) , Tom Barnes (Skof).

Newcomer of the Year – Skof

Shortlisted: The Pearl, Medlock Canteen, Onda Pasta Bar, Tawny Stores, Caravan, Hakkapo , Flat Iron, Skof.

Takeaway of the Year – Fat Pat’s

Shortlisted: Chips @ No. 8, Ad Maoira, Maida Grill House, Lucky Mama’s, Codi’s Kitchen, Mrs A’s Kitchen, One Sushi , Fat Pat’s.

Foodie Neighbourhood of the Year – Prestwich

Shortlisted: Monton, Salford, Urmston, Levenshulme, Altrincham, Denton, Sale, Prestwich.

Independent Drinks Producer of the Year – Cloudwater Brewing Co

Shortlisted: Pomona Island Brew Co, Sureshot Brewing , The Salford Rum Company, Steep Soda Co, Pod Pea Vodka, Hip Pop , Balance Brewing & Blending, Cloudwater Brew Co.

Independent Food Producer of the Year – Great North Pie Co

Shortlisted: Companio Bakery, H.M.Pasties, La Chouquette, The Flat Baker, Long Boi’s Bakehouse, Yellowhammer, Half Dozen Other, Great North Pie Co.

Coffee Shop of the Year – Another Heart To Feed

Shortlisted: Grind & Tamp, Fort Coffee, Allpress Espresso, California Coffee & Wine, Bold Street Coffee, ManCoCo, Oscillate Coffee, Another Heart to Feed.

Food Trader of the Year – Honest Crust

Shortlisted: House of Habesha, The Little Sri Lankan, Cardinal Rule, Ad Maoira, Jaan By Another Hand , Baity, House of Bun, Honest Crust.

Pop up or Project of the Year – Love From

Shortlisted: Bungalow at Kampus, Tartuffe, The Landing, Root to Flower, Sampa, Manchester Wine Tour, Midori Didsbury at Wine & Wallop, Love From.

Affordable Eats Venue of the Year – Nell’s Pizza

Shortlisted: Café San Juan, Wow Banh Mi, Hong Thai, Salt & Pepper, Nila’s Burmese Kitchen, Mia’s Arepas, Sips & Dips, Nell’s Pizza.

Plant-based Offering of the Year – Maray

Shortlisted: Lily’s , Wholesome Junkies, Allotment Vegan Eatery, Walled Gardens, Little Aladdin , Herbivorous, Sanskruti, Maray.

Food and Drink Retailer of the Year – Lily’s Deli

Shortlisted: Ad Hoc Wines, Out of the Blue Fishmongers, Littlewoods Butchers, Wandering Palate, New Market Dairy, Petit Paris Deli, La Chouquette.

Pub or Beer Bar of the Year – Mulligans

Shortlisted: Heaton Hops, Port Street Beer House, North Westward Ho, The City Arms, The Britons Protection , The Old Abbey Taphouse, Café Beermoth, Mulligans.

Bar of the Year – Hawksmoor

Shortlisted: Red Light, Flawd Wine, Speak In Code, Project Halcyon, 10 Tib Lane, Stray, Sterling Bar, Hawksmoor.

Neighbourhood Venue of the Year – Bar San Juan

Shortlisted: Restaurant Örme, OSMA, Ornella’s Kitchen, The Oystercatcher, Yellowhammer, Fold Bistro & Bottle Shop, The Jane Eyre Chorlton, Stretford Canteen.

Great Service Award – Schofield’s Bar

Shortlisted: Flawd Wine, The Pearl, Higher Ground, Skof, 10 Tib Lane, Adam Reid At The French, Ornella’s Kitchen, Schofield’s Bar.

The Howard and Ruth Award for Outstanding Achievement – Sam Buckley

Recognising people who have contributed something outstanding to the hospitality industry in Greater Manchester.

28 January 2025/by Neil Sowerby

Books, Food, Wine

Random reads – my recommended books of 2024 (and a reminiscence)

I make no apology for kicking off my books of 2024 round-up with the reissue of a foodie classic first published in 1950 – a time when we weren’t deluged with cookbooks from every corner of the globe and olive oil and garlic weren’t a staple of our national diet. Alongside it a history of that same English food, whose riches have rarely been given their just recognition…

A Book of Mediterranean Food by Elizabeth David (Grub Street, £14.99 reissue) and The English Table by Jill Norman (Re aktion, £17.95)

For nigh on 30 years my most cherished foodie keepsake was a browning programme from Elizabeth David’s memorial service on September 10, 1992. The great and the good of the food world were in attendance inside St Martin-in-the-Fields. Plus me taking a break from the very different world of Robert Maxwell’s Daily Mirror to honour the great cookery writer, credited with introducing grey Post-War Britain to the sun-dowsed delights of Mediterranean and French cuisine.

Still today a standard-bearer for her values, Jeremy Lee was also in attendance, as a young chef. When he came up to Manchester to guest at Bistrotheque in Ducie Street Warehouse the dinner’s theme? Why, Elizabeth David as Muse! Alas, I took that precious memento to show Jeremy and somewhere on the way home I mislaid it.

A hardback version of her debut, A Book of Mediterranean Food, has not been available for decades (my dog-eared Penguin paperback is from 1975), but facsimile specialists Grub Street have remedied that and, with its original John Minton illustrations, this reissue would make a lovely Christmas present for a new generation.

Just a little taster from it, on Greek meze: “Your feet almost in the Aegean as you drink your ouzou; boys with baskets of little clams or kidonia (sea quince) pass up and down the beach and open them for you at your table; or the waiter will bring you large trays of olives, dishes of atherinous (tiny fried fish like our whitebait), small pieces of grilled octopus…”

Remember this was a pre-package holiday era when such travel was generally the preserve of an elite. She feels the need to explain meze as similar to hors d’oeuvre.

At that distant memorial service, Jill Norman, editor of both Ms David and Jane Grigson, gave an oration. She quoted from the author’s anthology, An Omelette and a Glass of Wine: “Came 1846 the year that Mr Alfred Bird brought forth custard powder, and Mr Bird’s brainchild grew and grew until all the land was covered with custard made with custard powder, and the trifle had become custard’s favourite resting place.”

It is proof that in her later years Elizabeth David (wryly) researched our own native food culture and Jill Norman has followed in her footsteps with some distinction. The English Table is her own contribution to British food history. It’s a crowded field, mind, going back to the days of Dorothy Hartley and Florence White and, more recently, Pen Vogler and Diane Purkiss… plus Manchester-based Dr Neil Buttery, who conducted a fascinating recent interview with Jill on his British Food History podcast.

Now 84, she has taken on a big task to compress a couple of millennia’s worth of food-related social history into some 250 pages. She is ferociously well-read but recognises that in earlier times printed recipes were rarely representative of what most folk ate. In her final chapter she briefly addresses contemporary issues of ultra-processed foods and the need for biodiversity (insect-based anyone?).

A swell of local pride for me when she promotes Incredible Edible, the hands-on community growing movement that started in my home town of Todmorden 15 years ago. Back to basics is a good mantra to have.

Crazy Water, Pickled Lemons by Diana Henry (Octopus, £26) and Dinner by Meera Sodha (Penguin Fig Tree, £27) xx

Another welcome reissue, this time from the 21st century. Diana Henry lacks the high profile of a Nigella or a Jamie but through nine books and a her Daily Telegraph column has been quietly influential. Crazy Water was her 2002 debut, where she acknowledges the influence of Claudia Roden (another Jill Norman signing) in her own incursions into Middle Eastern and Mediterranean flavours. She is rightly fascinated by evocative names; ‘crazy water’ is an Italian dish of sea bass poached in a salty, garlicky broth by the fishermen of the Amalfi coast. Pungent flavours in the recipes are matched by the piquancy of her traveller’s tales. Ms David would surely have approved.

Meerha Sodha is familiar from her own weekly column in The Guardian’s Food supplement – the New Vegan. Her first two award-winning books sprang from her family’s diaspora – they fled from Uganda to less exotic Lincolnshire, where she was born and learned to cook Indian at her mother’s side.

The award-winning Mother India and Fresh India are among the most thumbed through, stained volumes on my kitchen shelves, The fourth, Dinner, continues the plant-based trajectory of follow-up East, offering 120 user-friendly recipes celebrating ‘the most important meal of the day”. That gives a clue to the once hidden, personal calamity at the book’s heart. To quote her chilling Dinner introduction: “A couple of years ago, I lost my love for food. I didn’t want to shop. I didn’t want to cook. I ate for necessity, not pleasure.”

Well, all of us food obsessives have had these days? No, this was true depression,, a can’t het out of bed breakdown – payback time for her over-zealous rise as a food writer. Heart-warming is the way she fought back finally when, realising her husband was himself cracking up after supporting her, she cooked a dinner that brought the family together. This book is a record of how each evening she rediscovered cooking for pleasure. The pleasure is now ours. This is genuine comfort food to batten down the hatches with against a hostile, demanding world.

The Food of Southern Thailand by Austin Bush (Norton, £35) and The Book of Pintxos by Marti Buckley (Artisan, £30)

Two very different writers who have settled in a distant country and charted its cuisine in minute but vital detail. Both happen to be American – Bush from Oregon, Buckley from Alabama. Bush has contributed hyperactively to Lonely Planet and rival guides to South Eastern Asia, but until this year his magnum opus was The Food of Northern Thailand (2018). Based in that country and a fluent Thai speaker, he has now followed it up with The Food of Southern Thailand, spotlighting a cuisine more familiar to Western holidaymakers on the surface, but Bush’s expeditions carry him far beyond Phuket resorts’ green curries ands pad thais. It is a visual revelation, too. His photography skills capture the vividness of diverse dishes such as Pork Braised with Soy Sauce, Pepper and Brown Sugar; a Rice Salad with Budu Dressing; a Spicy Dip of Smoked Shrimp; and Simmered Black Sticky Rice with Taro and Jackfruit. Chinese, Malay and Muslim cuisines come together in one cultural melting pot.

Marti Buckley has been based in Donastia (local name for San Sebastián) for over a decade and I used her debut food volume, Basque Country as a guidebook on a walking tour of that gastronomically rich region. Pintxos dives even deeper via the Basques’ small plate answer to tapas. Rich social history sits on the counter alongside some alluring recipes; I’m taking this one with me on my next trip. Not that I’ll be ordering my pdet phobia, Russian salad. Sorry, Marti.

Between Two Waters by Pam Brunton (Canongate, £20) and Ultra-processed People by Chris van Tulleken Penguin, £10.99pb)

The main image for this article is the view across Loch Fyne from Inver to the ruins of Old Castle Lachlan. It’s lifted from this unique restaurant’s Facebook page. It’s always difficult to illustrate a book review article beyond a parade of covers. On the Inver site alongside a delectable food shot I was struck by this quote from chef patron Pam Brunton:

“The fish and the artichokes grew up a few miles from the restaurant. The sauce –made from the smoked bones of the fish and seaweed from nearby waters – is spiked with exotica from landscapes further away: verbena berries and fragrant bergamot juice, lifting the mellow autumnal umami. The crispy artichoke skins rustle like leaves in cold sunshine. Hardly post anything about food anymore – every time I come on here I’m consumed myself by thoughts of war and political collapse.”

Can’t imagine Nigella Lawson coming out with that, but then she would never have published Between Two Waters. It’s both a memoir of how Pam and her partner created their remote restaurant a decade ago, challenging punters’ expectations and not compromising on their ideals, and a rallying cry, tirade in parts, against how ‘Big Food’ has damaged the way we farm and cook and eat, severed our connection with nature.

A former philosophy student, she name-checks Descartes and Locke along the way as she lays into salmon farming, the grouse shooting industry and much, much more. She’s proud about buying organic and local, and Inver’s Michelin Green Star for prioritising sustainability. Sounds preachy? No it’s one of the most timely and important food books of recent years, tender and down to earth to when she explores her family roots in Dundee, rhapsodical about the staples of Scottish peasant cuisine. Just don’t get her started on the Highland Clearances.

Medic turned author Chris van Tulleken (above) took his crusade against ultra-processed foods and the damage they do onto BBC 2 the other night.

“This was explained to me by a scientist who works in the food industry,” reported Van Tulleken. “I said ‘but if I’m making a chocolate brownie at home, surely it is basically the same as one I buy in the shop?’ And he explained there are two really important differences. Firstly, the shop-bought one will use much more fat, salt and sugar.”

“The second difference is the shop-bought one will use additives which we don’t at home – these are ingredients that aren’t available to us – different fats and sweeteners, emulsifiers, stabilisers, colourings and flavourings.”

Such products are geared to engaging your appetites commercially, while neglecting your health. Not that the the oafish Rod Little, reviewing it in The Sunday Times, was convinced. Conspiracy theories he hinted at. The food industry is obviously keen to downplay what academic research compiled by Dr Chris has indicated. It scared the life out of me. Just buy the book and you may be too.

One Thousand Vines: A New Way to Understand Wine by Pascaline Lepeltier (Mitchell Beazley, £45) and Perry: A Drinker’s Guide by Adam Wells (CAMRA, £17.99pb)

I first encountered Pascaline Lepeltier when she wrote a foreword for (and contributed greatly to) Alice Feiring’s groundbreakingThe Dirty Guide to Wine in 2017, the ultimate terroiriste manifesto. Now Anjou-born, Chenin championing master sommelier Pascal has produced her own erudite overview, challenging pre-conceived ideas. US-based Pascaline also had a background in philosophy and her book ranges across botany, ecology, geology, how perception works in judging wines, the language of wine. It’s a unique work of synthesis, but never dry. Or should that be sec?

Earlier in the year I had the pleasure of interviewing Adam Wells about apple cider’s often neglected country cousin. The mission of Perry is to change all that. I described it as “a hugely evocative beacon of hope that manages to be more celebration than elegy. It’s a wonderful, revelatory read.” It has also added to my drinks bill as I’ve striven to fill the gaps in my knowledge. A trip to the orchards of Herefordshire was particularly fruitful. Do read about my adventure s and check out the thoughts of Adam. Last word with him: “Great perry takes consummate care and attention. Which is all the more reason to celebrate the remarkable fact that it even exists.”

Vertigo by Harald Jähner (WH Allen, £25) and Borderlines by Lewis Bastion (Hodder Press, £25)

The history of 20th century Europe continues to fascinate me. Aftermath was Harald Jähner’s eye-opening account of ‘Life in the Fall-out from the Second World War’, where he retraced a decade of ruins and restoration in his native Germany. More ambitiously, with Vertigo, he tackles the rise and fall of the Weimar Republic between the debacle of the Great War and the rise of Hitler. It’s more than just Cabaret decadence; a wealth of research reveals a society rich in innovation but wracked by internecine strife. The redrawing of borders after 1918 contributed to major tensions across Europe. In his quirky but sobering travelogue fellow political historian Lewis Bastion journeys to 29 key European borders to question what national/racial identity is all about it. Historical, it couldn’t feel more topical.

The Heart in Winter by Kevin Barry (Canongate, £16.99) and Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout (Viking £16.99)

Colm Tóibín now ranks among the Irish literary greats and Long Island, his sequel to Brooklyn, was ‘eagerly anticipated’ in this household, but disappointed us both. Neither of us either can see what the fuss is about Sally Rooney, so Intermezzo was never likely to make my stocking. Step forward Sligo’s ever-surprising Kevin Barry and his wild western tale of lovers on the run in 1890s Montana. Opium-raddled wastrel Tom Rourke and mail order bride with a past Polly Gillespie high-tail it out of a mining town with a saddle pack full of dollars and a price on their head. Plot and language are as leftfield lyrical and inventive as ever. I love the pure Barry blarney of “Tom Rourke salted the eggs unambiguously”.

Since her 1998 debut novel Amy and Isabelle Elizabeth Strout has ploughed a very different literary furrow exploring the separate but eventually interlinking lives of two protagonists, Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton, one a cantankerous schoolmarm, the other a New York based writer, scarred by a poverty-stricken childhood in Illinois. Their parallel lives, and all involved with them, interlock finally in small town Maine. Strout mines a rare richness out of theconnections. Classic.

9 December 2024/by Neil Sowerby

Food, Restaurants

Instagram glam and serious grub are not odd bedfellows. Discuss!

It’s beginning to feel a lot ike Christmas, Bring on the twinkly lights and the cocktails. Fun as well as food is part of the festive feast…

‘Parallel universes’ spring to mind. The restaurant and chef of the year shortlists for the recent This Is Manchester Awards had only a single nomination in common with similar categories in the Manchester Food and Drink Awards, whose results will be announced in January.

That was Skof with its profile hard to ignore. At the helm Tom Barnes, who ran the 3 Michelin starred L’Enclume for Simon Rogan. Yet even this seems an afterthought on a list majoring in fancy venues. Take your pick of the other restaurants from 20 Stories, Australasia, EastZeast, Fazenda, Fenix, MAYA, MUSU, Ribeye, San Carlo Alderley Edge, The Ivy Spinningfields.

Skof can’t be accused of such flash, rehashing that old bare brick/post-industrial trope. Another recent incomer Blacklock the chops specialist follows that interior template too as they bid to ‘fit into’ Mancunia.

The Manc Mykonos – Fenix rising

The boot, spangly, on the other foot, step forward F enix as ‘Leading Restaurant (Formal)’. Yes formal can include a shimmeringly glam take on some Mykonos windmills of the mind, featuring curvy, sea cave surfaces, an ‘olive tree’ and lighting that glows like an Aegean sunset in the bar, while the upstairs restaurant boasts “ash-toned driftwood dining chairs paired with decadent marble tables and refined tableware.”

Still I don’t have insurmountable issues with that choice. Across three visits I have had some outstandingly good refined Greek food. And the cocktail offering is playfully mythic. I’d recommend Heracles’ Eighth Trial.

It also shared (strangely since it opened last November) the ‘Outstanding Debut of the Year’ award with Sexy Fis h, which I’ve visited twice for cocktail and fine wine related dinners. Yes, that fantasy on the former Armani site is all about Instagrammable piscine pzazz. but I didn’t feel a fish out of water. It was fun with some fine Japanese-inspired food, even if it lags behind the menu at nearby three AA rosette MUSU (or KAJI as it has morphed into, still lavishly glam, too, even when promoting fire-based cooking as one element,

Still this is a shark eat shark world in the tussle for the glitzy dollar. Leaving aside Sexy Fish’s relentless stablemate The Ivy, the golden touch, homegrown at that, seems currently to belong to the Jones Brothers.Trading as the Permanently Unique Group, Adam and Drew have already successfully extended their upmarket Chinese brand Tattu to London and plans are advanced for a Fenix and a Louis to follow.

Elevated veal shank and broken down tarts

Ah, L ouis. Maybe it was the crooning or the presence of celebs I couldn’t recognise (good luck with the Jungle, Colleen) but only the rip tide of Champagne buoyed me through the launch party in Spinningfields. A return visit to road-test the Italian-American menu has won me over big time. It was a comped meal with the inclusion of one of my favourite Chiantis, but such largesse would never subvert my critical faculties.

The osso buco alla milanese was especially magnifico. This rich, braised on-the bone veal shank dish with saffron risotto was a favourite of Frank Sinatra’s. So it’s perfect for Manchester’s own homage to a colourful New York past where guys dined dolls after Manhattans on the rocks. Such affectations may grate with some folk but when paired with spot-on service go with the flow.

Slow-cooked shank, pulled lamb this time, shows up in a Fenix dish that has survived the recent menu change. A parsnip bechamel, truffles and mushrooms are baked with it tarte tatin style in delicate pastry. It is served on crockery appropriate to its name, Broken Down Tart, a playful nod to the Greek tradition of plate smashing. I preferred it to the inevitable plate of wagyu.

Let’s get lit up for Christmas… and the Octopus Oasis

Fenix also upholds another swanky tradition by draping its facade in a myriad seasonal lights. Celeb haunt Rosso back in the day exhausted considerable wattage in the same way and its successor up in Spring Gardens, Cibo, offers a more muted version. Neither can provide a back storey to match Fenix’s. Their lights are “inspired by the story of Karavari – a Greek custom where children carried illuminated boats while singing carols to bless the sailors of the Aegean seas”.

Meanwhile, back at Sexy Fish, where the decor is an entire Aegean Sea in its own right (check out the Octopus Oasis, next to the main bar).I do recommend a generous wine and matching food event in the Tropical Reef Private Dining Room that should be a regular fixture in the New Year. It’s called ‘Wine and Waves’, the latter their name for the those Japanese-influenced small plates.

Some seriously goo/d wines featured in the W&W debut – Krug Champagne, Leflaive Burgundy and and a glorious Alsace Riesling from Rolly Gassman, presented by knowledgeable head sommelier Davide Rinaldi.

If that’s not your £125 a head bag, book in for Sexy Fishmas: “Immerse yourself in a sparkling holiday wonderland with a limited-edition omakase menu and festive cocktails, surrounded by thousands of golden fish baubles for a truly unforgettable Christmas experience.”

MUSU is now KAJI and Moffat is at MAYA

A real fish, in the shape of a giant bluefin tuna being butchered, was one of the unlikeliest restaurant attractions in 2024 Manchester (followed by a meal) and we may not see such sell-out session again as the John Dalton Street venue reinvents itself as the Musu Collection. Sushi/sashimi led omakase will return inn 2025 along with a basement fined dining showcase for new chef Steve Smith. For the moment he’s leading fire-based dining experience K AJI in the main dining room, which has re-jigged its giant screen-led decor without shedding the glitz. A relaunch meal showed no sign of slipping standards.

Smith made his name helming Ribble Valley gastropub. Interesting to see how it goes. Ditto with Shaun Moffat, whose very British approach and technical skills at the Edinburgh Castle gastropub in Ancoats won him Chef of the Year in the 2023 MFDF Awards. He’s now charged with turning around the kitchen at MA YA.

When I reviewed the place under previous chef Gabe Lea I was disturbed by an interior so penumbral I couldn’t read the menu. Little has changed it appears, reading a review of the new regime by the brilliant Olivia Potts for Manchester Confidential…

“The enormous cocktail bar at the centre of the room is beautiful, all gold and glass and plush stools, but it’s also dominating and it leaves the dining room feeling cramped. Diners are squeezed in closely and I almost knock over the wine glasses on our table when I sidle in, which I feel very stupid about – until the table next to us does exactly the same thing when they sit down. It does rather feel like eating a sit-down, three course dinner in a cocktail bar, rather than a dining room.”

Baby Daisy or Barnsley Chop – take your pick

I introduced Olivia to Shaun’s food back at The Edinburgh Castle and I too am a huge fan, in particular of his immaculate sourcing. How all this switch will pan out, it will be interesting to see, at an entertainment destination currently promoting (get your glad rags on for December 13) “Internationally renowned Burlesque artist, Baby Daisy, performing a brand new show created exclusively for MAYA. Playfully called MAYAnage et trois, guests can expect an evening of glamour, sensuality and dazzling allure.”

But will there be a Wild Boar Barnsley Chop? That was the Moffat EC dish that convinced me of his exceptional talent, honed by running East London kitchens such as Manteca. Funny old world. One floor of MAYA, inside a listed building, does that distressed brick/post-industrial schtick.

Cast your MFDF Awards votes online now

As a long-serving judge I might biased but these eight nominations for Restaurant of the Year are where the food does the talking:

Adam Reid At The French, Another Hand, Higher Ground, Mana, Restaurant Örme (Urmston), The Pearl (Prestwich), Skof, Where the Light Gets In.

The closing date for votes is midnight on the 10th January 2025. Vote for your winner in all 17 categories h ere.

5 December 2024/by Neil Sowerby

Food, Travel

Go with the flow – a delicious Dordogne foodie journey

Pilgrimages are not uncommon in the Dordogne. The region is on a main Camino de Santiago route and has boasted its own essential holy stop-off for 1,000 years, Rocamadour. My quest was of a more earthly nature – to discover if French food really is a shadow of its former self. Rivals Spain and Scandinavia, with their own different approaches, have stolen much of its culinary thunder in recent years, while Italian produce fills everyone’s larders.

Surely the Dordogne, bastion of regional tradition, built on foundations of foie gras, confit and every speciality you can squeeze out of a walnut, would uphold the reputation of La Belle France (even if for a substantial period of its history it was ruled by England)?

It certainly has sublime terroir on its side, yet as it turned out the most interesting meal of the trip was served in a dull street in Brive-la-Gaillarde – what counts as a big city in this agricultural region, its airport the gateway to places more immediately touristique. We flew in from Stansted with Ryanair.

Martel’s Lionhearted legacy

Half an hour’s drive south, this is a harmonious melange of pale stone and red tiles, restaurants and cafes clustering around the rustically timbered 18th century market halle. Facing it is our introduction to the local cuisine, a bistro called Le Petit Moulin.

Chef/patron Adrien Castagné’s mission is to celebrate local products. Even the wine we taste is from his own family vineyard – an organic Cahors. It’s softened by Merlot but is mostly Malbec, a reminder the grape existed long before Argentina monopolised it. Of course, for starters I had to order a tranche of the family foie gras and it was sensationally creamy.

Across the cobbled square sits the turreted Maison Fabri, where in 1183 Henry Curtmantle, estranged elder son of Henry II, perished of a fever, thus speeding Richard The Lionheart to the throne of England and the rest is history, as they say. Hard to credit mellow Martel with such a turbulent past but that’s the reason the Dordogne features so many castles on crags.

Rocamadour – it’s a bit steep

Even the Cité Réligieuse of Rocamadour is a cliffhanging fortified site, scaled by 216 calf-stretching steps called the ‘Grand Escalier’. Hard to credit that medieval pilgrims used to mount it on their hands and knees. Today’s funicular cut into the hillside was sorely tempting, but that rich lunch had to be worked off.

Out of season is the best time to visit the complex of seven sanctuaries, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, which attracts 1.5 million visitors a year. The big draw is the miracle-working, walnut-sculpted Madonna in the Chapelle Notre Dame. Tourist emporia tat aside, the whole Rocamadour experience is spectacular, if a mite spurious. A sanctified fourth century hermit called Amadour is the alleged founder but he may well just be one of those Dark Ages figments.

A rural retreat with a Michelin star

Rocamadour is not a place to seek out Michelin-starred dining. For that drive 20 minutes north west to the Pont de l’Ouysse. This quietly chic four star hotel, in the same family for five generations, is as delightful as its situation, alongside a ruined bridge (hence the name) over tributary of the Dordogne River. From my room terrace I looked on the perched castle of Belcastel (main image above) to the sound of the rippling stream.

Chef Stéphane Chambon and his brother Matthieu, front of house, worked across the globe before returning to take over this stalwart one-star establishment from their father Daniel. It is not cutting edge bells and whistles, mind. Stéphane’s focus is on extracting the maximum flavour from some seriously fine raw materials. A duck carpaccio oozing a walnut dressing sets the pattern for a beautifully balanced dinner. My only regret was that Stéphane’s celebrated Hare Royale wasn’t among the mains. Note that this establishment is open only from April to early November.

A cracking time in Walnut Central

Both here in the river valley and further north in the Perigord Noir, around Sarlat, walnut trees dominate the landscape, as they always have. So valuable was the oil in medieval times it was used as currency, its health-giving properties have been equally treasured and in 2002 it was granted AOC (Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée) status, protecting its authenticity and quality.

It’s the traditional mills, strung out along the Route de la Noix and serviced by some 40 sq km of orchards, that really benefit. We popped in on the tiny Moulin de Maneyrol, where Charlie Le Gallo presses award-winning artisanal oils after crushing with traditional grindstones.

Elsewhere, around Sarlat, the walnut products, (like the foie gras too) are manufactured on a more industrial scale. I enjoyed walnut cakes and breads but walnut wines and liqueurs weren’t really for me – even from the celebrated Distillerie Denoix in their historic Brive premises.

Towering mystery of Sarlat’s Lanterne des Morts

Sarlat-la-Caneda, to give it its full title, is much more bustling than of yore. On our visit in-season asparagus and strawberries joined the inevitable walnut oil, confit, magret de canard and foie gras in all its guises on market stalls beefed up for a ‘Festival du Terroir’.

Yet stray beyond the Place de la Liberté and surrounding lanes and Sarlat still charms. Behind the Bishop’s Palace you’ll find the curious, bullet-shaped Lanterne des Morts tower, built in the 12th century. Purpose? Lost in the mists. Its lawn was a perfect spot for my baguette of torched foie gras and a local craft beer.

The centre is full of eye-catching buildings, notably the narrow French Renaissance masterpiece, the Hotel de Maleville and the gabled, mullioned Maison de la Boetie, once home to the humanist poet Etienne de la Boetie, bosom buddy of the great Michel de Montaigne. For a full view of the medieval cityscape, with its signature ‘lauze’ heavy limestone roof slabs, take the ‘Ascenseur Panoramique’ a glass-sided lift built into a church tower.

And then I fell for ‘sleeping beauty’ Collonges

All was redeemed next day at Collonges-la-Rouge, prime contender for most beautiful village in the region. Swamped in high season, obviously, but even then manages an odd bucolic serenity, its sandstone houses and remaining towers glowing rosily among meadows and orchards.

It is so beautifully preserved because its original raison d’etre, wine, was scuppered by the 1880s phylloxera vive bug epidemic and it all fell into a long sleep until the Sixties when forward-looking souls rescued it from further dilapidation.

Among those saviours was the Breuil family, who run Le Cantou in the heart of the hamlet. Camille Breuil’s parents converted the family home into an inn in 1961 just as tourism was starting to develop; she took over in 1985 and steered it towards gourmet dining. Now it’s being handed on to the next generation.

After perhaps the best foie gras starter of the trip my main of lamb sweetbreads was divine, washed down with a classic Cahors red, Chateau Pineraie, on ther vine-shaded terrace.

Relax on the river at La Roque-Gageac

La Roque-Gageac battle Collonges for loveliest village plaudit. It is very different, its ochre houses spectacularly set into a cliff on the north bank of the Dordogne. Alas, the road that separates village from river is invariably rammed with tourist traffic. Do as we did and book a lazy 55 minute trip downstream on a motorised replica of the Dordogne’s traditional ‘Gabares’ river boats. The more energetic could hire a canoe and take in the village spectacle from the opposite bank.

Actually the most stunning view is from the high belvedere of L es Jardins de Marqueyssac a couple of miles away. Walk through a maze of 150,000 topiary boxwood trees, surrounding a rather modest 17th century chateau (its castle neighbours are all more monumental). Beyond the peacock-haunted formal gardens you’ll be rewarded with vertiginous views of La Roque-Gageac, the river and a landscape dotted with Chateaux – Fayrac, Beynac and Castelnaud (whose owners restored Marqueyssac).

The region does deal in the spectacular but it dances to a quieter beat in towns such as Terrasson-Lavilledieu with its Romanesque stone bridge across the Vézère or villages such as Curemonte with its niche drinks offerings – ‘straw’ wine and dandelion liqueur, best sipped on the ridge with a view of the picture-perfect hamlet.

Marvellous market day in Brive-la-Gaillarde

No one would call Brive picturesque, but I loved walking into its well-preserved centre at breakfast time just as they were setting up the market, live chicken stall and all. The Marché Georges Brassens in the Place de de la Guierle is called as the droll Fifties chanson singer, who name-checked the town in a 1952 song, Hécatombe, about a market brawl.

Open on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays it’s a more laidback place, give or take a spot of haggling. Workaday rather than Sarlatesque touristique, it is a reminder of the splendid fresh produce the French take for granted.

If that was a clincher for traditions being upheld, our dinner destination was proof that open-minded chefs exist too to take advantage. Maybe Nicolas Eche would baulk at a ‘fusion’ tag, but the menu at his bistro En Cuisin e is not afraid to add exotic spice to its market-driven raw materials and yet also here are French classics, pig’s trotters and ris de veau, delicately deconstructed versions. The wine list supports regional wines that often go under the radar in the UK. A red Pécharmant Les Hauts de Corbiac was the perfect accompaniment to both my Limousin beef carpaccio with herring eggs and a main of ‘Veau, bas carré confit et grillé legumes du moment, curry vert, royale de moelle’.

So veal ‘several ways’, seasonal veg but with bone marrow and a Thai-inspired green curry. France still rules – with a little assistance from the global marketplace, naturellement.

3 December 2024/by Neil Sowerby

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Anarchy in W1: King Bomba v Mussolini

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A Winsome welcome for the wild boar whizz

How I grew to love the Bermondsey bounty at Borough’s expense

A parade of fine new restaurants is a reason to brave the Borough overload

Hardly the New Frontier but Bermondsey has a pioneering buzz

I went for Abruzzo oil and came away with Piemonte basmati

Some special treats to add to your Bermondsey basket

FACT FILE

All the winners from The MFDF Awards 2024 on a night of New Century celebration

Random reads – my recommended books of 2024 (and a reminiscence)

Instagram glam and serious grub are not odd bedfellows. Discuss!

The Manc Mykonos – Fenix rising

Elevated veal shank and broken down tarts

Let’s get lit up for Christmas… and the Octopus Oasis

MUSU is now KAJI and Moffat is at MAYA

Baby Daisy or Barnsley Chop – take your pick

Cast your MFDF Awards votes online now

Go with the flow – a delicious Dordogne foodie journey

Martel’s Lionhearted legacy

Rocamadour – it’s a bit steep

A rural retreat with a Michelin star

A cracking time in Walnut Central

Towering mystery of Sarlat’s Lanterne des Morts

And then I fell for ‘sleeping beauty’ Collonges

Relax on the river at La Roque-Gageac

Marvellous market day in Brive-la-Gaillarde

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