We come into Manchester, from the south, on the tram. On the outskirts of the city centre, you pass a collection of apartment tower blocks. I’ve always reckoned it looks an utterly soulless place to call home and reminds me of the 1960s song “Little Boxes”. As the lyrics have it “They’re all made out of ticky-tacky. And they all look just the same”. Somewhere in the middle is the Medlock Canteen, named after the small river that runs through the area before joining the Irwell a few hundred yards away.
There’s been a fair amount of hype since it opened earlier in the year and I suppose it reached hype nirvana with a review in the Observer by Jay Rayner. He liked it. Gotta be worth a try then. Not least as the concept (don’t you just hate that word) is sort of American diner meets Paris bistro, both of which we like. In fact, it doesn’t really feel like either. But what you do get is a bright, modern space in the “industrial” style of restaurant design – all exposed air con pipework and the like. You also get smiley staff who are pretty much on the ball – the slowish rate of food arriving was surely a kitchen issue. There was something of an odd vibe on this midweek evening. Place was quite busy when we arrived at 7.30 but was all but empty by the time we left at 9. So, maybe it’s a place for folk meeting after work, rather than folk coming into the city for a “date night”.
As for the food, it was all good. Smoked cheese croquettes to start for one of us. You order by the piece – the server indicated the size (about the diameter of the nightlight candle on the table and twice its height). Restraint was shown and only two ordered. Very cheesey, very smokey, very delicious. Whipped cods roe was taramasalata by any other name and was a really tasty version. It comes with potato skins for dunking, deep fried to very crisp and just out of the fryer. Great use of something otherwise thrown away, as they are big on their mashed potato so must have quite a few skins to hand.
There’s steak as a main course. The menu tells you it’s house butchered but they don’t say what cut it is. Looked like onglet, or similar, when it arrived. And perfect at medium rare (my partner realised that she hadn’t been asked how she wanted it – so, the chef is either psychic or that’s just how they always cook onglet, as they should. It comes sliced in a thin, but tasty, jus. Turkey schnitzel could have generously fed two. It literally filled the plate and comes topped with a fried duck egg, capers and a drizzle of salsa verde. Moist meat, crisp coating – what’s not to like. I did my very best to finish it but failed. I can’t have been the first to be daunted by this – the server congratulated me on how much I’d managed. We did have a couple of sides as well. A generous serving of crisp fries – no, we couldn’t finish all of them either. And green beans, dressed with chopped anchovy, garlic and breadcrumbs – these were lovely (I’m going to nick the idea to try at home).
Perhaps needless to say, we were stuffed by now. No chance of ordering dessert – not even the deep fried cherry pie, with miso custard, that I’d been lusting after. So, we finished with espresso and waddled off back to the tram. This had all been a bit different from our usual places (and that’s a good thing) and we’ll definitely be back to give it another try,
