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.”

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.

 

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.

The only hospitality awards that really count in Manchester continue to delight and surprise. Now in their 28th year the Manchester Food and Drink Festival Awards returned to New Century Hall for a celebration of the resilience of the city and region in testing times. 18 winners were announced from food and drink establishments with 130 outstanding venues, producers and traders nominated, Standards were incredibly high

On the flip side were the restaurants and bars that went under in 2025. Some were listed by co-host Matt White in his introduction in a poignant reminder of the knife-edge hospitality is on. It was a lovely moment when Neighbourhood Venue of the Year Stretford Canteen paid tribute to fellow nominees fromdown the road, The Perfect Match, who didn’t make it into 2026.

he Restaurant of the Year wasn’t entirely unexpected – Michelin-starred Skof, just a stagger across Sadler’s Yard from last night’s awards venue. Its chef patron Tom Barnes, now in his mid-30s, was once a kitchen prodigy. The same applies to Matt Bennett, named Chef of the Year for his excellence at Prestwich’s The Pearl after sous chef stints at Mana, Ancoats and Gidleigh Park, Devon. Matt’s youthful looks were captured by Stanley Chow in a portrait presented on-stage by the acclaimed artist, who sponsored the category. A new MFDF innovation, it all added to the surprise value for 27-year-old Matt, surely our youngest ever Chef of the Year winner.

Overall sponsor of the Awards was Therme Manchester – in their words, a transformational large-scale wellbeing destination which will feature pools, saunas, waterslides, and wellbeing therapies set to complete construction in late 2028. 

As part of the partnership this year’s awards saw the first, ‘Community Food and Drink Project of the Year’ created. This new category recognises and celebrates the outstanding food and drink initiatives making a real difference in Greater Manchester, the prize a £1,000 funding boost from Therme as well as a further £2,000 to kick off a joint legacy project. The inaugural (and well deserved) winner was Platt Fields Market Garden.

Ben Dutson, Head of Food Operations at Therme Manchester is looking forward to continuing their support:  “We’re delighted to have sponsored this year’s awards and play a part in supporting and celebrating the brilliant food and drink businesses that make Manchester such a phenomenal place. 

“Therme is all about living well and having fun – and making wellness more accessible for the community, so I can’t think of a better way of embodying that than by supporting all the great businesses and community groups that we have recognised tonight.”

AND THE WINNERS ARE…

Restaurant of the Year – Skof

Shortlisted: mana, Adam Reid At The French, Winsome, Higher Ground, Stow, Erst, Cantaloupe, Skof.

Chef of the Year – Matt Bennett

Shortlisted: Rosie Maguire (Higher Ground), Shaun Moffat (Winsome), Adam Reid (Adam Reid at The French), Mary-Ellen McTague (Pip), Patrick Withington (Erst), Jamie Pickles (Stow), Jack Fields (Restaurant Orme), Matt Bennett (The Pearl).

Newcomer of the Year – Stow

Shortlisted: Cantaloupe, Bangkok Diners Club, Kallos Cafe & Wine Bar, Café Continental,Winsome, Royal Nawaab Pyramid, Kung Fu Noodle, Stow.

Bar of the Year – Speak In Code

Shortlisted: Stray, Schofield’s Bar, Red Light, Pray Tell , Renae, Libero, Flawd Wine, Speak in Code.

Affordable Eats Venue of the Year (sponsored by Therme): Double Zero

Shortlisted: Noodle Alley, Pho Cue, Cafe Sanjuan, Hong Thai, Seoul Kimchi, Double Zero, Wow Báhn Mì, Rabbie’s Thai.

Takeaway of the Year – This & That

Shortlisted: Ceresi, Ad Maiora, Home Chinese, Viet Deli, Pancho’s Burritos, Rack, Mughli Charcoal Pit, This & That. 

Cafe or Coffee Shop of the Year – Something More Productive

Shortlisted: Cafe Sanjuan, Oscillate Coffee, Federal Cafe Bar, Just Between Friends Coffee, Sipp Coffee, à bloc, The Old Fire Station Bakery, Something More Productive.

Wine offering of the Year – Flawd Wine

Shortlisted: Ad Hoc, Higher Ground, The Beeswing, Salut Wines, Reserve Wines, Where the Light Gets In, Kerb, Flawd Wine.

Food trader of the year – Rack

Shortlisted: The Little Sri Lankan, House of Habesha, Baity, Rita’s Reign, Taiko Ramen, Thatziki, Little Scarfs, Rack.

Foodie Neighbourhood of the Year – Stockport

Shortlisted: Urmston, Levenshulme, Chorlton, Monton, Salford, Altrincham, Sale, Stockport.

Independent Drink Producer of the Year – Track Brewing Co

Shortlisted: Balance Brewing & Blending, Pod Pea Vodka, Stiff Tea Brewing Company, Sureshot Brewing, Runaway Brewery, Seven Bro7hers, Weekend Project Brewing Co, Track Brewing Co.

Independent Food Producer of the Year – Pollen Bakery

Shortlisted: Long Boi’s Bakehouse, Holy Grain Sourdough, Littlewoods Butchers, Lily’s Vegetarian Indian Cuisine, Wong Wong Bakery, Half Dozen Other, Mayya Bakery, Pollen Bakery.

Neighbourhood Venue of the Year – Stretford Canteen

Shortlisted: Fold Bistro & Bottle Shop, The Pearl, Lupo, Cantaloupe, Tawny Stores, The Perfect Match, Gladstone Barber and Bistro, Stretford Canteen.

Pub or Beer Bar of the Year – Marble Arch

Shortlisted: Victoria Tap, Runaway Brewery, City Arms, The Magnet Freehouse, Café Beermoth, North Westward Ho, Track Taproom, Marble Arch.

Great Service Award – Maray

Shortlisted: Tast Catala, Atomeca, Higher Ground, Adam Reid at The French, Federal Cafe Bar, Blacklock, Kallos Cafe & Wine Bar, Maray.

Low or No Offering of theYear – Nell’s Pizza

Shortlisted: Cloudwater Brew Co, Dishoom, Red Light, Blinker Bar, Hinterland, Lina Stores, Speak in Code, Nell’s Pizza.

Community Food and Drink Project (sponsored by Therme) – Platt Fields Market Garden

The Howard and Ruth Award for Outstanding Achievement – Rustica

• As usual, across all categories (bar the last) 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. 

It was my first visit to the Farlam Hall hoterl near Brampton in Cumbria. For, of all things, a one-night-only 14-course dinner collab with Carlisle-based crime writer MW Craven. For it chef patron Hrisikesh Desai created dishes inspired by plot elements in the best-selling Washington Poe book series. Craven’s table-side commentary was illuminating, the whoe menu astonishingly playful and inventive.

You could see why, after just two years of Hrishi in situ, the accolades are building. In the recent Condé Nast Johansens Awards Farlam’s Cedar Tree was named UK Restaurant of the Year, while in the Top 50 Boutique Hotels list the Hall has just leapt 25 places to No.11, only five spots behind Lakes game changer Gilpin. That was Hrishi Desai’s previous Cumbrian billet, where he gained his first star for its SPICE restaurant. Cedar Tree’s was awarded within a year of his arrival.

To confirm Cedar Tree’s status, the globally influential La Liste Top 1000 Restaurants has ranked it among the UK’s best. Easy to see why on the evidence of our meal. I caught up with Indian-born, much-travelled Hrishi to quiz him on the success of his Cumbrian bolthole…

Hrishi, the whole ‘Murder Mystery and Michelin Stars’ event was sheer joy.  How important is that sense of playfulness in the kitchen?

“Playfulness in cooking is incredibly important to me. It brings something fresh and memorable to the dining experience — something a guest will truly never forget. It also gives us the freedom to bend the traditional rules of gastronomy and bring to life ideas that might otherwise seem too unusual to attempt.

“Take the ‘Spaghetti alla Vongole’ pudding, for example. Deliberately   designed to challenge expectations — sweet spaghetti, passion fruit cream, and a classic chocolate mousse re-imagined in the shapes of shells, conches, and clams. Or the ‘Severed Fingers’, a herb butter shaped like fingers. Serving something like that requires courage, but it also sparks curiosity and delight.

“At Farlam Hall, almost 54 per cent of our diners return, and a big part of that is their enjoyment of this playful approach to food. They appreciate that while we’re rooted in a classic country house style of cooking, we elevate it with global influences — spices from around the world, Japanese marination techniques, European fermentation skills, and more.

“We always aim to be different, but never at the expense of the fundamentals. No matter how playful the presentation or concept becomes, our core goal remains the same: solid, skilful cooking with real depth and craftsmanship on the plate.”

Local produce is on every chef’s lips. Sometimes it’s lip service. From the evidence of our dinner, it is very important to you. What does Cumbria bring to the plate?

“Cumbria is blessed with some truly exceptional producers, and for us it feels completely natural to use their ingredients as much as possible. The region offers an extraordinary range of produce — Herdwick lamb, rare-breed pork, artisan cheeses, incredible dairy, heritage vegetables, and foraged ingredients that change with the seasons. 

“We’re also surrounded by farmers, growers and makers who are deeply committed to their craft, many of whom have skills passed down through generations. That depth of knowledge and care is part of what makes Cumbrian produce so special.

“I would also like to see our own kitchen garden reach its full potential, because we already use so much of what it produces. Being able to pair what we grow here with what our neighbouring producers craft — from honey and rapeseed oil to organic vegetables, game, cured meats and small-batch spirits — creates a uniquely Cumbrian identity on the plate.

“Ultimately, Cumbria’s natural beauty is reflected in the quality of its ingredients. The landscape shapes the flavour: clean air, rich pasture, rugged coastline and forests full of wild herbs and mushrooms. For us, cooking in Cumbria means tapping into this landscape and celebrating it. It’s not about paying lip service to ‘local produce’ — it’s about letting the region speak for itself through the food.”

Hearing all this, it seems you are really settled here. What are your ambitions for Farlam Hall and your own career?

“Farlam Hall means a great deal to me. It has taken a huge amount of hard work to restore it to its former glory, and we have no intention of stopping there. Karen and I believe that Farlam should stand as a beacon of classic British hospitality — one of the true ‘go-to’ destinations in the North West of England.

“We have ambitious plans for the future, and we hope that the financial climate will allow us to bring them to life. These include developing a cookery school, creating a dedicated treatment space for yoga, sound therapy and meditation, adding a few more rooms, and opening a second restaurant.

“For me personally, this feels like just the beginning. Farlam Hall is a long-term project that we want to keep growing, refining and elevating. The aim is not only to strengthen the hotel’s reputation, but also to continue evolving in our own career through creativity, innovation and a commitment to excellence, supporting the team and local community.” 

Which chefs have been your main influences? Your own Indian heritage is obviously important but the traces are restrained. Is that the aim?

“There are many chefs who have influenced me throughout my career. I’ve been fortunate enough to meet most of them — including the Roux family, Thomas Keller, Hywel Jones (whom I worked with for almost 12 years), Heston Blumenthal and Gordon Ramsay. I also draw a lot of inspiration from the new generation of British chefs such as Mark Birchall, Lisa Allen and Adam Smith, whose creativity constantly pushes boundaries. 

“Across Europe, chefs like Hélène Darroze, Anne-Sophie Pic, Olivier Roellinger, Björn Frantzén and Rasmus Kofoed have shaped my thinking through their subtlety, precision and ability to create deeply memorable dining experiences.

As for my Indian heritage, it is a big part of me. You’ll always find a gentle thread of Indian-Asian influence in my food, and that subtlety is very much intentional. What I don’t want is to be labelled as a chef creating Indian fine dining or ‘progressive Indian’cuisine — that’s not what I’m doing. Instead, I’m drawing on my roots in a way that complements the broader culinary style we aim for at Farlam Hall.”

Just before our recent dinner at Farlam I saw that you had been away in Mexico on a 10 day Roux Brothers Scholarship trip, where he and fellow alumni accompanied Michel and Alain Roux. Can we expect that experience to impact on your menus?

“I found that Mexican food — and its culture — has a surprising amount in common with Indian cuisine. So travelling through the Yucatán and discovering those parallels in flavour wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it was incredibly inspiring. I brought back a range of Mexican chillies, and we’ve already started experimenting with them in the kitchen. I’m sure you’ll begin to see subtle touches of Mexico appearing in some of our dishes over the coming months.

“One of the biggest revelations for me was the Mexican mole (a dark stew). The depth and complexity of its flavours were extraordinary, and recreating it here will be a real challenge — but one I’m excited about. I think a refined version of mole could pair beautifully with game birds or robust, meaty fish. It’s definitely something we’ll be exploring further.

I have to ask. What are the big challenges ahead for hospitality with precious little positive support from government?

“This is a question that opens Pandora’s box for me, because it touches on something that genuinely frustrates many of us in hospitality. I appreciate that any government faces enormous pressures and competing priorities, and we do have to allow space for that. But at the same time, when respected business leaders across hospitality, farming, tourism and the wider supply chain are repeatedly warning that the sector is on its knees, it becomes difficult to understand why these voices aren’t being heard.

“Hospitality is one of the UK’s biggest employers. It supports local economies, revives rural communities, sustains farmers and independent producers, and brings millions of visitors to regions like Cumbria. Yet rising costs, staffing shortages, and an inflexible tax framework are putting businesses under impossible pressure. 

“When energy bills for small hotels resemble those of industrial facilities, when there is no cut in VAT rates for the sector, when recruitment rules don’t reflect the reality of rural workforces something is fundamentally out of sync with the real world.

What would you like to see done?

• A realistic VAT structure for hospitality – a lot to learn from some of our European neighbours or emerging power houses like India who have reduced the VAT to encourage growth. 

• Long-term relief or reform on business rates.

• Practical solutions to staffing shortages, especially in rural areas

• Support for British farmers and producers facing the same inflationary pressures we are

• Incentives for training, apprenticeships and skills development,

• Encouragement for sustainable, regionally focused food systems.

“These are not radical ideas — they are common sense. They protect jobs, strengthen local supply chains and ensure that Britain’s hospitality sector, one of the most culturally and economically important industries we have, doesn’t collapse under its own weight.”

Who is Hrishikesh Desai?

Obviously, one of the UK’s outstanding creative chefs, now also overseeing a country house hotel, Farlam Hall, that is setting the bar higher and higher while retaining a dedication to homely hospitality rare among Relais & Chateaux establishments.

A key to his culinary is that Roux Scholarship award back in 2009. The most recent fruit was that educational expedition to Yucatán and Mexico City but the initial impetus from joining that elite culinary brotherhood was to launch him towards running his own kitchen.

He had been encouraged to enter by his then boss/mentor Hywel Jones at Lucknam Park. He had worked himself up from commis to head chef over a decade at this Michelin-starred exemplar outside Bath. 

He had arrived there from France, itself quite some distance from his birthplace, Poona in Maharashtra. In his late teens he had won a scholarship to study restaurant management at the Institut Paul Bocuse in Lyon. It was in that most gastronomical of cities he found his true vocation – not fron of house but behind the stove.

He recalled: ’It sounds crazy to say but it all started with a crème brulée. ’I saw one being blowtorched and I was amazed by it. I think it was partly seeing that chefs got to use all of these cool gadgets but it also made me realise that if I wanted to fully understand this industry, I needed to cook. That was what made me want to become a chef.”

Fact file

Farlam Hall, Hallbankgate, Brampton, Cumbria, CA8 2NG. It is a 120 mile drive from Manchester via the M6 or there is a West Coast Mainline station at Carlisle, a 12 mile taxi drive away. Standard rooms start at £340 a night, deluxe at £465. Midweek rates are offered.

How entrancing are those still life paintings from the Dutch Golden Age – the pleasures of the table laid out in intimate detail. A modern day equivalent has just been set before us in a Rotterdam cellar. It looks an edible picture. Outside the pleasure craft are bobbing in the marina. This is the Kop van Zuid-Entrepot, part of the city’s waterfront redevelopment after World War Two devastation.

Inside the brick-vaulted Tres restaurant it feels like it could be any era. Yet the ingredients displayed in this preview of the 18 course tasting menu ahead of us are very much of the moment. Great mercantile city that it was, feeding off its far-eastern trade routes especially, it would have imported vanilla, soy sauce, caviar, truffles and spices. That they could all be produced in the Netherlands would have been unimaginable, but here they are today, explains front of house Emy KosterIt. 

The brilliant wines in the pairing she has chosen, though, are not the product of the polders. Piemonte, Hungary, the Jura, Rioja host the vineyards and the winemakers. The Blanc de Noirs we are still sipping as we are escorted down from the amuse bouches upstairs is a low dosage growers Champagne. Hyper-localism can only go so far. 

Less surprising will be the presence, across the autumn-specific menu, of rabbit, wild boar, roe deer, pigeon and duck. All sourced from as close to Rotterdam as possible. Nothing is from further away than 20 miles.

This devotion to seasonality and locale, alongside committed eco-responsibility, is expected of you when you hold a Michelin Green star and Emy’s life partner, chef patron Michael van der Kroft is so obviously worthy of his. Yes, the judging principles are less clear cut than in the standard Michelin star allocation and there are dissenters. One Substack scribe recently claimed Green stars were being quietly dropped, but this ‘fake news’ has been dismissed by the tyre folk.

In the UK three star establishments L’Enclume and Moor Hall additionally hold a Green Star. Manchester Food and Drink Awards restaurant of the year Where The Light Gets In just has a Green Star. Great company for Tres to be in – and it delivers. “Raw and pure, vintage and warm” was the verdict of those Michelin inspectors, but they were surely damning it with faint praise. A meal here is a remarkable experience that has won it 16 points in the Gaul Millau Guide. Note though, that each seasonal 18 course tasting menu costs 185 euros (alcoholic drinks pairing 110 euros, the inventing N/A 100 euros). You could do a lunchtime à la carte, but that doesn’t seem the point. Three to four hours perched along the 16-cover counter won’t drag.

We go all out with extra Champagne to kick off and two specials at a supplement. We feel obliged to load the ‘caviar course’ onto our truffle venison tartare. Royally  obliged. Anna Dutch Caviar of Eindhoven is named after Anna Paulowna, Grand Duchess of Russia, who later became Queen of the Netherlands in the early 19th century. Granddaughter of Catherine the Great, who I’m sure was partial to a spot of beluga herself.

The second special is a signature dish dear to Michael that eventually turned up mid-meal (and yes we had an extra matching wine, too). It was a Dutch masterpiece – a pear poached two days in an egg broth, then aged, and served with a tomato ferment, pepper sauce and black garlic. 

Where ferments including the house koji come to life, Michael’s lab is in the shadows at the back of the dining room next to the fridge where the duck prosciutto is curing. Another fridge has whole wild ducks stuffed with hay ready for the barbecue. Our breast from one will be served with a blackberry sauce and a blackcurrant wood oil riff on tahini. One of our snacks has been a duck ragu croquette with wild boar lardo and cherries on a bed of smoking pine and the most savoury of our desserts matches duck with fermented cherry in a soufflé. The exquisite petits fours will include duck fat waffles with chestnut. What an all-rounder the Dutch duck is.

Michael bases only one mouthful on the local pigeon but what a mouthful. Maybe it helps that it is served on an impala or some such skull (I meant to ask), but who could resist an oliebol (Dutch fried beignet) filled with pigeon ice cream – cool inside, warm outside like a profiterole? You down it in one like an Indian puri.

Just before the poached pear, that duck breast prosciutto arrives as a side to a dish that Michael wooed Emy with in their courtship and it has stayed on the menu during the six years of Tres’s existence. Essentially crisp kale and other greens in an intense ceps sauce. If only the Shokupan (delicate Japanese milk bread with morels) could have arrived earlier to mop up the juices.

It has been well chronicled that this chef came from a troubled family background, went off the rails as a teenager, turning to athletics and professional BMX as a refuge, before finding hid true metier as essentially a self-taught chef. His Eureka moment came when working in an Italian restaurant.

What has art got to do with it?

At this point let me state my aversion for detailing a tasting menu in chronological order. Given up on that. The Van der Kroft magic at times feels akin to freeform jazz and I’m happy to lift some solos willy-nilly. The whole experience left me craving a return visit to a season when fish is to the fore. Now that would make a still life.

One past reviewer reported “an umami-rich lobster flan, a strikingly realistic ‘octopus’ tentacle made out of vanilla cream and a caramel made from the fish fat that was separated in the lab.”

Hopefully my notes at table next time will extend beyond the likes of “Roe deer, vine leaf woodruff, walnut, vanilla”, for a gamey highlight even surpassing “Rabbit loin belly, ceps cream sauce, Van Gogh!” 

Yes, that fellow Dutch master gets a look-in as a savoury canvas with bunny loaf partnering a roulade of rabbit. A pudding of Dutch vanilla praline is less cornfields more some bizarre objet from Magritte. Belgian, of course, but I feel his imagination would have felt at home on this Rotterdam quayside. 

Tres, Vijf Werelddelen 75, 3071 PS Rotterdam, Netherlands. 16 points Gault MIllau.

Well, who would have thought the Dutch could offer such produce?

One of the curiosities of Michael van der Kroft’s cuisine is his refusal to use salt. Ditto no chocolate. Only one of the dishes on our tasting menu featured salt – and that was a pudding. But what sea salt it is. Zeeuwsche Zoute originates from the fishing village of Bruinisse situated next to the largest national park in the Netherlands, the Oosterschelde. Oyster and mussel beds purify the saltwater, which is finely filtered to remove as many microplastics as possible before the salt is extracted.

Salt is the only preservative in Anna Dutch Caviar, produced at an innovative sturgeon farm near Eindhoven. 90 per cent of the sturgeon is from the species Acipenser gueldenstaedtii, aiming to recreate the taste of Caspian style osetra caviar. My own preference is for beluga, but we loved our Tres o setraoverload. 

I was less surprised to discover truffles are found in the Netherlands; astonished, though, about the country’s own Koppert Cress Architecture Aromatique vanilla and Tomasu Rotterdam Soy Sauce.

The Tomasu producers bank everything on the nutrient-rich, healthy soil in which they grow their sesame seeds, rice, peppers, and sweet sorghum. Mantra?  “We don’t grow for quantity; we grow for quality. And therefore, seed selection plays a significant role. In parallel, we can play and experiment with new and old varieties of seeds.”

They brew their soy the traditional way, using soybeans, wheat, salt, and water. Then it is fermented and aged for a minimum of 24 months in former American white oak whisky barrels.

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