One of the delights of our recent trip to Bologna was emerging from our apartment one Sunday morning in search of coffee to find a buzzing organic market on our doorstep. Just 12 hours earlier the Piazza Aldrovandi  had been swarming with carousing students; now it was celebrating the equally vibrant food culture of the Emilia Romagna region.

On a dairy stall we encountered a tub of Squacquerone. Surely this was the tangy soft cheese layered with prosciutto di parma and arugula (rocket) on the piadina flatbread we had snacked on in the Quadrilatero gastronomic quarter? A purchase and post-coffee tasting confirmed it.

Squacquerone di Romagna is a wobblier more spreadable version of the Lombard soft cheese stracchino, matured for a maximum four days, often less. 

It has PDO status, exclusively produced in a well defined area between the Ravenna, Cesena, Rimini, Bologna and Ferrara provinces, and between 64 Porrettana trunk road and Po river. Four cattle breeds, including Frisona Italiana (Friesian) provide the rich milk, the native lactic enzymes joined by natural whey starter, veal rennet and salt. Result: the final product, shaped by the molds, it is poured into, is slightly sourish from brining, but also delicately herbaceous. 

Under my radar till Bologna and I’m now trying to source it in the UK. Perhaps like the Lambrusco wine that accompanies it som well, it doesn’t travel well.

En route to Impala through London’s Chinatown you run the gauntlet of lacquered roast ducks garnishing restaurant windows. From the humblest establishments to the Four Seasons, which trumpets its version as the world’s best. Switch from Wardour Street to Dean Street and you enter a different dining realm. It’s hard to resist dropping in on Jeremy Lee’s cosseting Quo Vadis, but make the effort and before you emerge onto Oxford Street duck (sic) into the aforementioned Impala, living up to the recent hype, not least because of its own signature duck dish.

Just six weeks after opening, this refurbished garage leapt into the National Restaurant Awards Top 50 at no.15 and at the ceremony its creator Meedu Saad was named Chef to Watch. Not that he’s emerged out of the blue in Soho. He has long headed the kitchen at Northern Thai-inspired Kiln, which is part of the Super 8 group, encompassing nearby Mountain, both East London manifestations of Brat and Kiln’s live-fire precursor, Smoking Goat in Shoreditch.

I’ve eaten at all of them, yet none had prepared me for Impala, which references  Egyptian-born Meedu’s own Cairo meets Tottenham upbringing. The name doesn’t spring from the antelope but from the cherry-red 1964 Chevrolet Impala his family drove during his summer holidays in his homeland.

When Super 8 founder and business partner Ben Chapman asked him what new project might be nearest to his heart he didn’t hesitate in saying North African.

Impala is all that but it’s far more, offering a creative fire to match the wood-burning ovens out of which emerges Aish Baladi, signature wholegrain and bran bread – puffed up pucks of loveliness.

We used it to scoop up smoothly pounded (and we don’t mean liquidised) white beans infused with wild herbs and topped with briny bottarga – an appetiser that road-maps the whole Med. More uncompromising were our kibbehs of white crab and sun-dried wheat parcelled in a shiso leaf cone. The chilli hit had me gulping my glass of Aligoté. Not just any Aligoté; Sylvain Pataille’s. Impala’s is a seriously good wine list and the cocktails tempted, too, from a smart bar that’s worth a visit in its own right.

Warily we sidestepped sweetbreads with pickled green chillies or beef tartare laced with baklouti chilli, even though that Tunisian speciality pepper is not high on the Scoville scale, while spiced ox tongue with bird’s tongue pasta lost some allure when we discovered that’s the Egyptian name for orzo.

So the half duck to share, it was. Surprisingly substantial bird and worth 68 quid. Sourced from Cornish butcher Philip Warren, it is dry-aged, brined, stuffed with a black lime spice paste and molasses and hung over embers, its dripping juices incorporated into the final fig sauce.  A final crisping in that ferocious oven imbues it with its mahogany hue. All the fanned slices required for accompaniment was a simple salad of tomatoes cumin and aromatic herbs.

In a launch interview Saad played up the five years of on the ground research that went into Impala, travelling to Istanbul, Athens, Tokyo, Marseille, Italy and the south of France, but mining his memory bank is equally important. 

He recalled a summer in his mid-teens, staying near Ismailia with his cousin and helping out on a mango farm. At lunchtime, there would be these lavish meals of  roast pigeon, roast ducks, rice and fruit. “I knew I needed a dish that one, was delicious, and two, really came from a place in my mind that had a lot of memory.”

Check out Impala website for a list of suppliers stretching from a Tunisian family harissa producer to the great David Lowrie in Fife for fish.

Such wide-ranging sourcing came together intriguingly in one dish – molokhia (braised jute leaf) and cull yaw. The latter, I knew, tender mutton from ewes that are too old for breeding. From Matt Chatfield, a Cornish colleague of Warren’s, you’ll find it across some of London’s finest restaurants. But molokhia? One of many spellings of what turns out to be a nutrient-packed green vegetable found across the Middle East, North Africa and beyond. Egyptians were cultivating it back in the times of the Pharaohs. Typically, it makes a gelatinous soup; here encasing the slow cooked yaw (ewe). Not a pretty dish, it was vividly earthy and herby. The whole menu, I suspect, would yield similar surprises. Impala so lives up to the hype.

PS: Thanks, Impala, for the birthday candle on the sole pudding, a gorgeous date and pistachio tart.

Loyal readers will recognise I rarely publish new openings-on-the-horizon stories, but in one special case (I’m salivating already) I’ll make an exception, to trumpet the return of OSMA this autumn. It has been almost two years since the acclaimed restaurant abandoned its site on Bury New Road.

To get there entailed a bit of a trek from Prestwich Metrolink, but chef patron Danielle Heron’s food made it all worth while – among the best in the region, testimony to a culinary voyage that involved working at three Michelin star destinations L’Enclume in Cartmel and Maaemo in Oslo.

Danielle’s partner Sofie Stoermann-Naess is Norwegian and the Scandinavian vibe (OSMA is a portmanteau of Oslo and Manchester) will inform the pair’s new Northern Quarter home inside the One Port Street apartment block… and Boutikk, a city centre grocer and provisions shop, next door to the restaurant. Manchester is so short of premium provision stores, so this adds to the excitement.

Provenance always played a big part in OSMA’s success. Guests at Mark II can expect fresh seafood, local meats, seasonal vegetable dishes and the return of some of OSMA’s most-loved dishes. Their sharing Sunday roast will also make a welcome return.

 

While former Bury Grammar pupil Dani oversees the food offering, Fie will lead the front-of-house experience, as well as Boutikk. A first-of-its-kind concept for the area, Boutikk will offer seasonally sourced vegetables, dairy, fruit and a fresh meat and fish counter, where chefs will be on hand to advise customers on product selection, recipes and cooking techniques. The store will also feature freshly baked Scandinavian-style bread, all inspired by the food culture and shopping traditions of Sofie’s native Oslo.

OSMA, which originally launched in 2020, was listed within the Michelin Guide within a year of opening, leading to Danielle to take part in both Masterchef: The Professionals, and Great British Menu where she reached the finals in both shows. Of the opening, Dani and Fie say: “We’re so delighted to be reopening OSMA, we’ve missed it every day and to be bringing the restaurant back into such a vibrant part of the city centre is beyond exciting. We will miss our community in Prestwich but we’re only a couple of miles down the road. “Bringing a shop like Boutikk to Manchester has been a dream for such a long time – we feel that there is a need and a want for this kind of produce in the city centre so when it became apparent that we could create something alongside OSMA we jumped at the chance.”

Summer – time for chilled soup? Not same old Gazpacho or Vichyssoise, mind. Both of which I can at least pronounce. Unlike Šaltibarščiai, Lithuania’s legendary ‘Pink Soup’, whose annual festival drew a record 176,000 visitors to the capital Vilnius the other weekend. I wish I could have joined them. Maybe next year. Meanwhile I’m making my own. Simple recipe later.

Basically it’s a Borsch, the bright hue coming from its beetroot base. Other Baltic and Slavic states boast their own takes on such a refreshing chilled potage. The Poles call it Barszcz or Chlodnik, the Russians Svekolnik (the Ukrainians don’t).

Borscht, the hot variety I conjure up through the year, benefits from a rich meat stock, whereas Šaltibarščiai folds diced beetroot, spring onions and cucumber into Kefir, that fermented milk drInk created by lactic acid bacteria and yeasts that thrive at room temperature. Yes, it’s probiotic and good for your gut.

Ever since I witnessed the great Jonathan Meades – in one of his Magnetic North BBC documentaries – visit the Hill of 100,000 Crosses in the north of Lithuania, a  pilgrimage site and symbol of resistance against Russian occupation. I’ve been hooked on its history. The country’s pagan heritage, too. Known as “Europe’s last pagan kingdom,” Lithuania was the last nation in Europe to officially convert to Christianity in 1387.

Surprisingly Vilnius offers a riot of ‘wedding cake’ Baroque churches, which every late May play second fiddle to a mass of folk in bright pink costume slurping ice-cold soup

This year around 35,000 visitors from abroad were able to participate in the Pink Parade held on water, the signature costume competition, a giant four-storey tall pink slide, and culinary interpretations spread throughout the city. The sheer scale was reflected in 355 mapped locations offering šaltibarščiai-themed food, activities and events, culminating in the Best Pink Soup Costume Contest. The ‘traditional egg topping’ is on my garb bucket list.

Food trucks stationed around the White Bridge epicentre of the Pink Soup Festiavl used more than 4 tonnes of kefir, which was the main ingredient for almost 6.5 tonnes of šaltibarščiai devoured across the weekend. 

Nearly 16,000 people dressed in pink took part in the 10.5 km IKI Pink Soup Walking Competition across the city alongside more than 600 pets. Later, participants exchanged their steps for almost 50,000 fruits, and other ingredients used to make Lithuania’s iconic cold soup, including 4,000 cucumbers, 2,000 beets, and 4,000 bundles of dill.

• The 2027 edition of Vilnius Pink Soup Fest, the fifth, will take place on May 28–30, returning to its traditional last-weekend-of-May slot, and symbolising the beginning of summer season in Lithuania.

How to make Lithuanian Šaltibarščiai

first of all I consulted my Baltic food bible, Amber and Rye (Murdoch Books, £25) by Zuza Zak.She refines the recipe by creating an add-on fermented beetroot elixir, which I might use another time but had no patience to wait the five days it would take to bubble up. So here’s a simpler take on this classic dish that I Googled…

It supposedly serves four, but is ample for six. Spoiler alert: be careful with your colourful beet dicing. I splattered my chinos.

Ingredients

1kg kefir

200g beets, boiled or marinated

200g fresh cucumbers

six spring onions chopped

a pinch of fresh dill

2 eggs

salt, to taste

For serving

400g potatoes, boiled

dill, chopped, to taste

Method

Finely chop the vegetables and dill. Mix them all in a large bowl. Pour the kefir over the vegetables, flavour with salt according to taste, mix and let stand for several minutes (the longer the mixed vegetables stand, the tastier it will turn out).

Pour the soup into bowls, cut the boiled egg in pieces into the bowls. The cold soup is served with dill-speckled hot boiled potatoes on the side.

 

It was the unlikeliest bonding in cinema history. Danny de Vito and Arnold Schwarzenegger teaming up as Twins in the 1988 movie. It ought to have been boloney, but retains an easily digestible charm. Unlike the US sausage of that name that is a pallid, industrial copy of true Bologna sausage – the sacred Mortadella.

Bologna, of course, is Mortadella Centrale, Italy’s food capital. Inside the trattoria, Drogheria della Rosa, it appears I am  in the realm of Hollywood legends, too. Read the clippings. Drogheria devotee Arnie’s tip-off led to dinner visits from Danny and later Francis Ford Coppola.

But this converted pharmacy is no obvious celeb haunt. Indeed founder Emanuele Addone (above) takes centre stage. His “You’ll enjoy this  Montepulciano d’Abruzzo with your osso buco and vitello tonnato” is an offer we can’t refuse. Still, this is a benign Godfather. The whole experience radiates warmth. Under Emanuele’s twinkly but watchful eye service for our dinner is super-efficient. It all belies the cluttered, offbeat setting, featuring shelves of the original apothecary’s bottles.

The menu feels a step away from the rigid Cucina Bolognese template that dominates around the Piazza Maggiore and deep into the heart of the city’s gastronomic quarter, the Quadrilatero. 

Not that you’re likely to be disappointed by the pasta on offer in most places. It’s a spectator sport to see the sheets being rolled out in pasta shop windows. Just don’t expect spaghetti with your bolognese ragu. They are strict about pairings; it has to be fresh tagliatelle, which holds the sauce better. 

Even more seriously, there is specific legislation about the dimensions of each pasta type and we discovered tradition demands (mostly ignored) that the Emilia Romagne classic lasagne be only served on Sunday.

At the Drogheria my pasta course  was the archetypal Tortellini in Brodo, where hand-rolled tiny pasta parcels are simmered and served in a clear chicken and beef broth. The best fillings combine pork loin, prosciutto, mortadella, and Parmesan. 

Make your mind up about the legend behind its creation. After a battle the gods Jupiter and Venus retired to a country inn between Bologna and Modena (where balsamic vinegar comes from). The innkeeper spied on the goddess of love through a keyhole. All he could see was her navel. In his infatuation, he sculpted a pasta replica.

Confession, I prefer the larger Tortelloni encasing perhaps spinach or pumpkin. The Montepulciano, by the way, was an inspired accompaniment at just 25 euros.

Earlier in the day, whisked in by the monorail from the airport, we had undergone everyone’ds Bologna wine initiation – a visit to the Osteria del Sole in the Quadrilatero. The selling point of this 15th century tavern haven on the Vicolo del Ranocchi is good affordable vino to wash down food you can bring in without charge. It certainly hides its light sotto un moggio (under a bushel); twice we had walked past. Saturday lunchtime, so it was heaving.

To share we took the Emila Romagna region’s favourite flatbread, piadina, packed with prosciutto di parma, the soft cheese squacquerone and arugula (rocket), and sank tumblers of local Lambrusco and Pignoletto, each lightly frizzante.

Around the corner you’ll find the Mercato di Mezzo (the Middle Market), which dates back to the Middle Ages and was transformed into the city’s first covered market after Italian Unification. These days it operates as an eating-in exhibition space.

I much preferred the less touristy Mercato delle Erbe along the Via Ugo Bassi, which lives up to the greenery in its name. Altro is its own collection of eateries, the pick of which is Banco 32, a vibrant seafood bar attached to that rare Bologna animal (sic) a fishmonger. 

Still Bologna’s best known food stores are in the Quadrilatero and charcuterie and cheese rule the roost. Swanky Tamburini, with its own cafe, is the most high profile, but Salumeria Simoni is certainly the mortadella mecca, even hosting its own food tours to explain the superiority of mortadella tradizione.

Yes, even the Italians can pass off sub-standard, Spamlike versions. At its best it lives up to the 16th century version documented by Bartolomeo Scappi, personal chef to Pope Pius V, and writer of groundbreaking cookbook Opera. His mortadella method involved finely chopping lean pork and fat with two knives rather than grinding, and seasoning subtly with spices to create a delicate, cooked sausage, wrapped in caul. Pale pink, it should be laced with bright gleaming spots of fat.

No wonder one of the nicknames for Bologna is La Grassa (The Fat). The others are La Rossa, for both its communist leanings and terracotta red rooftops, and La Dotta or The Learned because the city’s university is the oldest in the Western world.

The need to house the students led to the expansion of residential space and so the construction of the 40km of porticoes in the city centre alone. It rained on and off during or stay, so were were more than grateful for these distinctive covered walkways.

The are particularly attractive around the angular Piazzo Santo Stefano, home to my number one must-see in Bologna – the labyrinthine complex of medieval churches, cloisters and crypts named after that saint. It originally consisted of seven churches. Four remain and they are the very definition of ‘hallowed spot”. It’s such a contrast contrast to the monumental Cattedrale di San Pietro and Basicilica di San Petronio. In Pilate’s Courtyard, see if you can spot in its alcove the 16th century ‘Crowing Rooster of St Peter’.

Once you’ve got the taste for porticoes, it’s worth making the pilgrimage to the 18th century Santuario della Madonna di San Luca, a pink Baroque basilica on a hill top 10km south west of the city. It is a fair walk out before you test your calves ascending the world’s longest portico – 3.8km uphill all the way under 660 Unesco-protected arches. If you’re not up to it, there is a little tourist train. You’ll be met by a grand view across the city to the distant Apennines. 

Our reward for our own strenuous  efforts was a late Sunday lunch back in town at the Trattoria da Me. Michelin-mentioned, with a new generation in the kitchen, its food is decidedly more contemporary, but it still honours lasagne as a Sabbath special. So that was our starter and its light layers and textures were a revelation.

En route from Santuario, we had stopped off for an IPA at another beacon of new wave Bologna. Self-styled ‘independent and rebel bakery’ Forno Brisa, has five outlets, offering their own sourdough, cutting edge coffee and a very un-Bolognalike vibe. Ditto Il Punto, the city’s best birra artigianali pub. Excellent craft pours in a heavy rock ambience, five minutes walk from the Trattoria da Me. You have to venture further out to sample the wood-aged wild ales and sours at the Ca’ del Brado taproom.

We were staying on the fringe of the beautiful Piazza Aldrovandi, just beyond the night-time hubbub of this cluster of al fresco bars and street food. Buzziest spot, another crack in the bulwark of trad Bologna, the Ragū & Draft kiosk, combining the city’s signature meat sauce in buns or on tagliatelle with draught cocktails. Walk north from here up the Via Giuseppe Petroni and in 10 minutes you’ll experience a very different cocktail setting. At aperitivo hour where better to sip your negroni than  Le Stanze, inside the vaulted former chapel of the Palazzo Bentivoglio? Pull up a bar stool against a backdrop of faded 17th frescoes.

In complete contrast is the bar of the art house Cinema Modernissmo. Originally  it was an underground theatre of a medieval palace that was demolished in the early 20th century. The cinema it became finally closed in 2007, but with the backing of Martin Scorsese reopened three years ago and it is a glorious city centre bolthole. After exploring a free exhibition on the great French director Agnes Varda we each sipped a sbagliatio. One plus of viewing a film (a portion of which are in English with Italian subtitles) are the food boxes, which could include tortellini – naturally.

Step outside onto the Via Rizzoli and turn your head right. Ahead of you lie the Asinelli and Garisenda towers, currently closed to the public, but enduring symbols of this city full of surprises. 

La Grassa, La Rossa, La Dotta, Las Sorpresa.

 

It is not surprising that the Roux Brothers, Michel and Albert, creators of Le Gavroche and a whole UK culinary dynasty, made their name as pastry chefs. Indeed over 30 years ago they penned a definitive book on pâtisserie and in 2008 I remember interviewing Michel Senior as he toured his Pastry: Savoury and Sweet. Another great, now departed French chef I have encountered was Joel Robuchon, who at 15 started his multi-starred as a pastry chef. It’s a skill set at the core of haute cuisine.

Albert’s son and inheritor of Le Gavroche, Michel Roux Jnr served his own apprenticeship in the art and science of sugar, flour and butter. Who would not want such a legend as a kitchen mentor? Well, there’s now a chance as Le Cordon Bleu London launches its new Pâtisserie Scholarship Competition, giving aspiring pastry chefs the opportunity to win a prize package worth more than £75,000. 

As part of its annual scholarship competition, the new initiative has been created to identify and support the next generation of pâtisserie talent through a combination of professional training, mentorship and hands on industry experience. Applications are now open and will close on Friday, May 29 2026. 

Previous annual scholarship competitions from the institute have offered career-launching opportunities across a range of culinary disciplines. 

The overall winner will receive a 12-month prize package, including a place on Le Cordon Bleu London’s Diplôme de Pâtisserie (intensive) and Diploma in Pâtisserie Innovation, beginning in January 2027. 

The prize will also include an internship at CORD by Le Cordon Bleu restaurant and mentoring from Michel Roux and Chris Galvin (of MIichelin-starred La Chapelle), dinner at the 3 Michelin-starred Sketch Lecture Room and 12 months accommodation from Londonist.

Roux says: “The competition offers a life-changing opportunity for an aspiring chef to gain valuable training and industry experience, and a secure foothold on the first step of their career in hospitality.”

The scholarship will also recognise additional talent through second and third place prizes, which will also offer courses. 

The final will take place at Le Cordon Bleu London, followed by an awards dinner at CORD restaurant. The winner will begin their studies in January 2027. 

I am still a boy, only occasionally needing to scrape the downy bum fluff off my chin. “So you fancy a half pint of my foaming ale, do you, sonny?” smirks the landlord across the pumps. My school pal Hoppers looks even more callow, so he has pushed me forward to get us served. Only the third pub I’ve ever managed it in and I am still struggling to actually like the forbidden fruit of malt and hops. Ah, the bittersweet joys of under-age drinking long ago…

Fast forward half a century and more and there’s a different sort of epiphany going on in the same hostelry, The Freemasons At Wiswell, these days the very model of a country gastropub. Wiswell rhymes with ‘swizzle’, but you won’t be cheated by the offering at this destination on the fringe of the Ribble Valley.

The British morel season is vernal and short, April the apogee. Often found clustering under hedgerows, the ridged and pitted fungi are a prized delicacy. I am unsure where chef patron Mike Shaw sources his from. I should’ve asked. The dish he has just served, a morel stuffed with scallop in a vin jaune sauce as part of a six course set menu, is a portal into fantasy Gallic Michelin territory. 

Greenfield-born Shaw has served his time at Raymond Blanc’s two-star Manoir and worked with Richard Neat in Cannes when that maverick Pied à Terre founder  became the first Englishman to win a star in France. The classic training has always been evident in Shaw’s subsequent cooking nearer home. I’ve always been in awe of his patisserie skills. Now his new tenure at The Freemasons looks like taking this acclaimed food pub with rooms to a different level.

Under a previous incumbent Steve Smith it repeatedly featured in Top Gastropubs lists. Indeed it became the 2015 Waitrose Good Food Guide’s Number One Pub in the country. At one point it even leapfrogged the Michelin-starred Northcote down the road in the Estrella Damm Top 50 Restaurants list. Great times, but it has been in the comparative doldrums since. Now the revival is definitely on  the way.

Not that it is forsaking its look of a film set for some Hollywood-imagined country inn It boasts more stag’s heads than you can shake a fox’s brush at and innumerable Dick Turpin meets Jorrocks country prints. You could imagine the Pickwick Club getting exceedingly jolly in the formal upstairs dining areas, which have been tarted up even more. The inn is a conversion of three terraced cottages, one of which was once a Freemason’s lodge apparently. Four beautifully appointed bedrooms have been created out of neighbouring property and remain a huge plus.

We’d have happily hunkered down in one after six fabulous courses for £85`:

 Wye Valley asparagus, miso caramel, miso hollandaise; duck liver, blood orange, golden raisin, heritage carrot; Cornish crab, apple, pickled kohlrabi, preserved lemon, oscietra caviar; stuffed morel, scallop, artichoke, walnut, yellow wine sauce; salt marsh hogget, loin, braised belly, sweetbread ballotine, aubergine, tongue sauce; pistachio parfait poached rhubarb.

All lovely, but the star was that stuffed morel. Hand-dived dived scallops are made into a very light mousse, seasoned with sea herbs, steamed for 8 minutes in the morel,  left to rest and then glazed with a double veal stock reduction. Shaw sits it  on a Jerusalem artichoke puree and serves with a sauce made from a grand cru vin jaune, that oxidised wine speciality of the Jura. It’s finished with walnut oil.

This is the chef’s take on the kind of dish you might have found on the menu at Nico Ladenis’ London three-star late in the last century. In Padstow today Paul Ainsworth might stuff his mores with chicken mousse, with cured winter truffle, confit shallots and duck liver. Which all sounds a mite over-rich. In contrast Mike Shaw’s is light and spring perfect.

Freemasons at Wiswell, 8 Vicarage Fold, Wiswell, Clitheroe BB7 9DF
01254 822218.

Rick Stein, little old name dropper you. I first encountered Dhokla in his 2013 cookbook spin-off India. He wrote: “I got this recipe from Chirayu Amin, the former chairman of  the IPL (Indian Premier League Cricket). This grandee had invited our Rick to the launch of his kitchen annexe. Among the dishes served was this savoury cake bread speciality of Gujarat; millionaire foodie Amin topped it with prawns, sacrilege in what is arguably the Sub-Continent’s most vegan state.

Featuring it in her BBC series Flavours Of India (available on IPlayer) Madhur Jaffery declared: “If there is  an haute cuisine for vegetarians – ancient traditional foods with outstanding flavours and textures, all based on sound nutritional principles – it can be found here.” And Dhokla is a perfect example.

Gujarat is where the Patel family hail from. Its plant-based cuisine is the wellspring of their Michelin Bib Gourmand restaurant Prashad in the West Yorkshire hamlet of Drighlington. This in turn has spawned one of the most inspired hospitality collabs of recent times – Bundobust. Prashad founder Kaushy Patel’s son Mayur joined forces with Bradford bar owner Marko Husak to perfect their Indian veggie street food meets craft beer formula. It started in 2013 in Leeds and followed it up with two Manchester outlets and Liverpool.

Now the boys have shaken it up, unleashing a menu for 2026 packed with surprises. 16 new dishes to pick from. Some are reinvented returning classics, others feel newly minted. They call it: “The most Bundo version of of Bundo and everything we wanted it to be when we first dreamt it up back in 2013. 2013!! Mad. More shareable, more new flavours, textures, more Too Much Spicy, just more Bundo.”

They have been launching it in stages. In Leeds on April 13, Liverpool the 20th with Manchester following on the 27th. If you thought their food offering had gone a little predictable think again. I certainly have done after a preview at their original Mill Hill site five minutes from Leeds Railway Station. Fond memories for me here. I was the first critic to review it. Maybe Dhokla was on that original plastic menu card. I can’t remember. It has always been a Prashad signature dish and you’ll find a recipe in their cookbook.

Well it is here now as Dhokra Chaat and is springily gorgeous. This Gujarati steamed savoury cake is made with a gram flour batter, also known as Khaman, which is fermented overnight before steaming. Bundo infuse the mix with ginger and turmeric and serve it with fresh onion tossed in a mustard tarka with a garlic, coconut and coriander chutney.

The revamped menu is the product of patient research around the UK’s Desi hotspots and forays to India. Testimony to this is Litti choka. It is popular in eastern Uttar Pradesh, western Bihar and certain Nepalese provinces. Why have been hiding this secret so long? Basically, these are fire-roasted dough balls, made from black gram flour and filled with masala spiced crushed peas and raisins. As is tradition, they are served on a warm smoked aubergine and tomato spread.

I love the back story of another menu newbie. Galouti Kebab was created as a soft,  shallow-fried meat and papaya patty to cater for Lucknow’s toothless Nawab, Asad-ud-Daula. Bundo substitutes masala mushroom and rajma and serves on a puri with pickled red onion and spinach and mint chutney. 

Conservative Bundophiles, don’t fret. This is not a total overhaul. I can’t resist ordering old favourites that have been there from day one – the best Okra Fries around – dusted with kala namak and amchoor – and pomegranate-speckled Bhel Puri, puffed rice and samosa shards made tangy with tamarind.

The Pav Bhaji has featured in various guises over the years, but the latest might be the pick. Here it comes toasted and slathered in masala butter, to scoop up a spiced buttery mixed veg masala topped with fresh cucumber and onions.

It’s still all small plates, but with a certain heft to them. Take the latest variation on Paneer Tikka – two chunky skewers of barbecued halloumi-like Indian cheese, mushroom and pepper marinated in tikka yoghurt. With lashings of red pepper ketchup and spinach chutney to seal the deal.

Wash the new menu down with a glass or two of Bundobust Brewery beers tailored to the spice – a Mango Lassi Dazzler pale ale or a Chacha Chai stout.

* Most dishes are priced between £6 and £8.50. A Combo for Two at £38.50 will save you £5.50, while a comprehensive Bundo Combo, feeding four to six hungry folk, costs £134, a saving of £20.50.

‘Mayfair isn’t really me’ is an understatement. From Savile Row with its seamless inside leg measurements to Victoria Beckham’s posh frock shop close to where nightingales once sang in Berkeley Square, past Lamborghini and Rolls Royce showrooms and a Sexyfish that looks sexier than its Manchester spin-off, I have always felt a far from gilded fish out of water, ready to be patronised by snooty doormen and their ilk.

Well, I’ve had a W1 epiphany I call my Counter Offensive. It started with a French dip – smoky steak shards and pulled beef with oozing taleggio and  pickles on a sourdough base accompanied by a generous boat of gravy. An old-fashioned at my elbow, I took in the busy flame-driven open kitchen from my stool at the new Dover Street Counter, casual offshoot of Martin Kuczmarki’s The Dover, a few doors down, whose schtick these past couple of years has been old school Italian New York. I wasn’t quite channeling my inner Damon Runyon here, but I felt properly looked after and energised ahead of a Yapp Brothers wine tasting half a posh mile away along Pall Mall.

Counters traditionally are the place to accommodate (or stick) a solo diner like myself. I say, bring it on. Especially when your slice of the action is one of the great current restaurants. If Dover Street was a soothing haven The Cocochine was a revelation. My privileged vantage point on one of the seven ‘front row’ seats offered not just insights into the precision ‘fine dining’ techniques on display but also (unique for Mayfair) a portal into background of regenerative farming and true sustainability.

Such a bonus from a remarkable value £39 three course set lunch. OK, the Cocochine chips I couldn’t resist with my farm beef pie main were a £10 add-on, but wine by the glass wasn’t a rip-off (since I was never going to explore the riches of a cellar boasting over 1,000 bottles in good vintages of Tignanello, Vega Sicilia, Ornellaia, Petrus and the like). 

Cocochine – hospitable luxury with an astonishing attention to detail

No exotic allegiances in the moniker; it’s what co-founder Ian Jefferies nicknamed his daughter. Still, it feels not inappropriate when chef partner Larry Jayasekara’s ostensibly Francophile menus are infiltrated by the lemongrass and coconut of his native Sri Lanka.

The last time I strayed along Bruton Place it was for a porterhouse and Guinness at the Guinea Grill in the days when Oisin ‘The Devonshire’ Rogers was running this ageless inn. On the other side of the street a four storey Georgian town house was in the middle stages of its drawn-out transformation into today’s 49 cover restaurant – the counter’s seven, 28 in the dining room and 14 in the private room.

After logistical problems not helped by the Covid lockdown, The Cocochine finally opened two years ago, but its gestation had begun when Larry – after a string of kitchen roles with Marcus Wareing, Raymond Blanc, Alain Roux and, in France, Michel Bras – spent three years as head chef of Gordon Ramsay’s Petrus in Belgravia. 

It was then that Mayfair gallery owner and legendary suitor of supermodels Tim Jefferies persuaded Larry to showcase his talents at a series of supper clubs, where he pressed him about his future plans. Opening my own restaurant the eventual reply. This from an emigre who had landed in Devon 20 years ago, his first job as a binman, before peeling veg in a Torquay Thai propelled him onto a catering course. The Jayasekara trajectory reads classic rags to riches but he could never have envisaged such a destination, created with a seemingly blank cheque.

Food and drink aside, this is a seriously bravura design destination. Jefferies own art collection is liberally scattered around. Photography is to the fore – the classic likes of  Mario Testino, Helmut Newton and Richard Avedon. Upstairs in the private room with its gold lattice ceiling and elaborate mosaics you’ll find his spare Warhols.

Regenerative farming in Northants, special seafood from the Hebrides

Readers of this blog will be aware of my commitment to enlightened grass roots  sourcing. Prime example is the Cinderwood Market Garden in Cheshire created from scratch by the Higher Ground team to supply fruit and veg not just their to own Manchester restaurant and siblings Flawd and Bar Shrimp but also fellow new wave independents in the city. Their meat needs are served by Cinderwood neighbours Jane’s Farm and Littlewood’s Butchers near Stockport, a town whose own dining standard bearer Where The Light Gets In holds a Michelin Green star thanks to its own urban sustainable growing programme.

High end London restaurants tend to be less self-sufficient, happy to import from Paris’s Rungis Market and specialist suppliers. The Cocochine is different. Among its investors is Ian Wace, a hedge fund manager who ploughs a different furrow beyond his commercial speculations.

Much of the restarant’s requirements are supplied by Wace’s 1,000 acre Rowler Farm, 60 miles away in Northamptonshire and the rich fishing grounds of Tanera Mòr, an island in the Inner Hebrides he bought and revived a decade ago. 

Not that the chef is averse to sourcing luxury ingredients wherever in the world to suit the kind of menu he creates. In the two years ahead of the opening he travelled to 25 countries.

What of the food?

Amazingly no Michelin star yet, but The Cocochine has just been awarded 3 AA rosettes plus a prestigious international accolade – La Liste’s UK opening of the year award 2026 and three gold stars on its 1000 Global List.

This level of attention focuses on the culinary riches of the £189 a head signature tasting menu, a rollercoaster of tastes culminating in the ‘Watalappam’ Sri Lankan Crème Caramel, Crème Fraiche Ice Cream, scattered with Golden Oscietra Caviare, a bespoke less salty version. 

My three courser was humbler but enticing. If back in the day Le Gavroche’s £60 a head lunch including a half bottle of good wine was London’s great bargain, this is today’s contender. As with the Roux offering, extra appetisers might crop up. In a the realm of Gougères Larry’s is surely king.

For starter I chose Raviolo of Scottish Lobster in a lime and lemongrass sauce ahead of French Onion Soup with a truffle cheese toastie and for the main rather than Roasted Line-Caught Wild Sea Trout, Seaweed, Bisque it was Slow-Cooked Farm Beef Pie in a perfect pastry casing. Attention to detail: Rowler Farm has its own abattoir and the beef is aged 40 day. 

Dark chocolate Cremeux with Sri Lankan Cardamom ice cream completed the lunch. In hindsight I regret not having ordered  the Vanilla Ice Cream with Jaggery Caramel having learnt afterwards that half a kilo of fresh Tahitian vanilla for one litre of crème anglaise goes into the glace!

The Simple Philosophy of The Cocochine

Service was warm throughout with the chef patron on hand to explain his philosophy unobtrusively. He once summed it up in an Observer interview: “It’s about looking after the guests, cooking with love and heart and respecting the ingredients. Hospitality means opening your home to friends and family. You cook for days, and then the first thing you offer [when they arrive] is water. I don’t want to have a champagne trolley in the restaurant, because that should not be the first thing offered. I want to offer guests a glass of water and let them come in, get comfortable and relax.

“We always wanted to make it a place where it’s about the level of art and the quality of the ingredients together, so it’s not just a plate of food. It is a whole experience. Everything here is custom-made to fit. Everything is like a jigsaw. Everything has to be matched. Everything has to be exactly how we wanted it: the flowers, the water, the steak knives, the plates, the tiles, the curtains.” 

Across Bruton Place you’ll also find simpler sibling, the Rex Deli Restaurant (walk-ins only) which, like the Dover Street Counter, brings a whole new casual spin to Mayfair. It’s never going to be Shoreditch with its tats and beards, but surely that vibe has become a mite wearing.

Nine years ago I organised a ‘Tapas Trail’ for the Manchester Food and Drink Festival – a couple of events cherry-picking small plates and wines from seven Spanish restaurants clustering around Deansgate. Even kick-off point the Instituto Cervantes cultural centre was on that very un-Ramblaslike thoroughfare. 

Heady days for Iberian cuisine in the city. Three of the participating restaurants (Iberica, Tapeo and Lunya) have since closed, leaving only La Bandera, Evuna and 30-year-old stalwart El Rincon de Rafa… alongside a certain El Gato Negro Tapas (the Black Cat) that was a cool newcomer back then. As I walked up King Street recently to celebrate its 10th anniversary I passed a shuttered-up Tast Catala, which closed down before Christmas after seven years’ trading. Even the combination of a multi-starred Catalan consultant chef and Pep Guardiola among the backers couldn’t keep it afloat.

Up to 2,000 covers a week rising to 2,500 when the outside terrace is open suggest the equally upmarket El Gato isn’t likely to follow suit any time soon. Ditto the Liverpool branch. Leeds, though, has been turned into a Black Cat Club, as has Habas higher up King Street, the group’s fruitless dip into Lebanese cuisine. Canto, a Portuguese venture, remains in Ancoats, now serving more generic Iberian small plates.

How Ripponden got ‘padronised’ by El Gato’s arrival

So the El Gato Negro mini-empire for 2026 is a far cry from chef patron Simon Shaw’s first bold Spanish step on the Pennine moors back in 2006. I think I’m safe in assuming that until this point the village of Ripponden was a stranger to the padron pepper or grilled octopus tentacle. Its gastronomic epicentre in those days was the annual pork pie competition in the Old Bridge Inn (1307).

It was a less historic terraced pub just along the main road converted by Shaw, a Birmingham-born chef with a fine dining cv, and Chris Williams, his front of house oppo from the duo’s London Harvey Nichols days.

Not quite as remote as it sounds, it was on a bus route. There was always the temptation to hike over the moors, though since these were the days before reliable satnavs on mobiles there might be pitfalls. Hence this memory that I recycled for my Taste of Manchester review of the ‘new’ El Gato on King Street:

“The last time I arrived for a meal at El Gato Negro my trousers were caked almost to the knees in farmyard mire (that’s the polite word). I was with two companions, hopelessly lost and then hopelessly late on our naive cross-moor hike to Simon Shaw’s Spanish restaurant. Finally we stumbled upon a pub, restored ourselves copiously with Timothy Taylor Landlord, got a taxi to El Gato and had an outrageously good fish feast. Simpler times.”

The quality of the food made the transition to Manchester under the new investment from Mills Hill Developments. Some quirky elements didn’t – like the paper menu/place mat, where you ticked boxes to give your order. The ebullient Chris Willams had departed long before, leaving Simon to take centre stage, backed by a remarkably talented kitchen team. Notably Matt Healy and Mark Kemp.

Back in 2009 Matt was Simon’s sous chef on Gordon Ramsey’s F Word when El Gato won ‘Best Local Spanish Restaurant.’ He went on to greater telly fame seven years later when he was runner-up on Masterchef the Professionals and these days runs two casual Forde restaurants in Ilkley and his native Horsforth. 

Ulsterman Mark has pursued his own ‘global small plates’ vision’ at Engine Social Dining in Sowerby Bridge since 2018. I was the first critic to review it – for Confidentials – and it is arguably the Calder Valley’s great dining success story of the moment. Mark, now 45, (below right) gives huge credit to Simon for really launching his career.

Mark Kemp on the Shaw fire that ignited the El Gato legend

“I had worked in a variety of kitchen jobs around Leeds but never really settled. Then through Matt Healy I was introduced to Simon at El Gato Negro where I knew very quickly this is the real deal. I had never met a chef quite like him, his presence in the room was felt immensely. His eye for detail was impeccable, he knew exactly what everyone was doing. He took no prisoners during service or with prep time and demanded your best at all times, no time for slacking.

“There were days I would hate him all day long but one beer with him at the end of the night and I was back to thinking he was the best again. It was never personal with Simon, he was just passionate and loved his food, his brand, his products and wanted you to learn from your mistakes, do your best at all times never cut corners or  become complacent.

“One of the hardest things at El Gato was keeping staff, I was there for three and a half years and it was very hard to attract good chefs and keep them, many came and went in my time there, Maybe because it was in Ripponden and hard to get to or was it the long days and hard work? For almost a year it was me and Simon, Matt had gone to London, another chef Dom to Australia. They left shortly after the Gordon Ramsay F word show and it was the busiest El Gato had been in years.

“Simon used to do a test on chefs when they came on trial and make them fine dice a chilli or a mirepoix, and sometimes the guys would be getting changed back into their clothes and out the door in 15 minutes, which was hard when you would think to yourself, yes a chef, another pair of hands please. I remember getting there at 7am and Simon would sometimes be asleep in the restaurant sat up with a hoover between his legs. He had to clean the restaurant for the next day on the night.

“It was tough but still I look back at my time very fondly and when I left for Shibden Mill Inn never got the same feeling of passion. It was mad at El Gato. I would be cooking seven to eight dishes at once, mini chorizo reducing, Alejandro chorizo, patatas bravas frying in a pan, 2 portions tiger prawns, baby chicken under the grill, chargrilling a quail skewer, while gently basting a monkfish on the bone, bringing them all together one after the other to Simon to plate.

“The man would line up the plates and perfectly send them all out, one after the other, sometimes sending back an over cooked tortilla, ‘eggs too dry – do it again’. Watch that chicken, Mark.! Turn the monkfish. And he wouldn’t even be looking at me. He just knew.  The buzz from the kitchen was the best. I’ve never had anything like that until I did the Engine. 

“My favourite dishes? There was so many, but I really enjoyed Simon’s version of a paella,. It was really fun to cook. Or his Andalusian fish stew,. Both hard to execute but so bloody tasty. Oh, and scallops a la mallorquina!.”

Looking forward now to El Gato’s third decade

One accolade shared by El Gato in both its manifestations is a Michelin Bib Gourmand. There’s also a constant roster of ingredients, the product of Simon Shaw’s early expeditions to the likes of San Sebastian’s pintxos scene or the Boqueria Market in Barcelona and a 20 year association with the importers Brindisa. Plus a continuing ability to employ native British raw materials without straying too far into fusion territory. France makes a regular contribution, too – Gillardeau oysters, exquisitely saline and fleshy. From family oyster beds in La Rochelle they are chosen because  they are the best.

When Simon went back to the stoves in February to prepare a King Street 10th birthday 10 course tasting menu, so many of those usual suspects were there in all their glory. The smoky Alejandro chorizo mentioned by Mark, here served with fondant potato and wood roast piquillo peppers; morcilla that’s a cut above most of of our native black pudding providing the filling for a Scotch egg on a bed of duxelles mushrooms: and the dish that exemplifies El Gato on a plate for me – fried baby squid on black ink rice with dots of avocado puree. Made up for the absence of octopus. Which, as it happens, is the favourite dish of Head Chef Milan Sojka who has been in the brigade for seven and a half years.

A lot of the current team are long-serving. One key figure, though, has departed in pursuit of his own restaurant. Carlos Gomes, former head chef of Michelin-starred Barrafina in London, arrived in 2017, bringing the dishes of his native Portugal to Canto, and in 2023 was promoted to group exec head chef.

Still El Gato Negro has proved itself a sturdy beast. Before decamping to Mulligan’s for a restorative Guinness after hectic hours on the pass he told me: “I’m excited to see us continue to play a part in the city’s thriving food scene, which I genuinely believe is the strongest outside London. I want to keep welcoming future generations through our doors and enjoy continued success, with Milan leading the kitchen.”

My great thanks for many of the pictures used here to Joby Catto www.jobycatto.com, who like me has been an El Gato regular for two decades and straddled both sites as their in-house photographic chronicler.


El Gato Negro Tapas, 52 King Street, Manchester M2 4LY. Items from the 10-course tasting menu will be available as specials from February 23 for one month. Tables can be booked here.

©2021-23 Copyright Neil Sowerby unless otherwise indicated. All right reserved.