Is it possible to feel remote in a city centre? I think it is. I am not talking about loneliness, or feeling culturally distant from people stood next to you. I am talking about sitting in silence whilst the world goes on several floors below. This is what the atmosphere is like at The Modern in Manchester.
Amongst the dark satanic mills of Halifax, West Yorkshire, there are indeed some green and pleasant pastures, and nestling in the hills we found Shibden Mill Inn. We once stopped for a quick Sunday lunch on a walking expedition and vowed to go back. On 1 March, Fred had just picked up a brand new Mini Cooper, so a drive out to somewhere remote seemed appropriate.
Have you ever slept under the railway arches? It’s not typically a pleasant place. Certainly not a place you would choose to sleep. But if it’s raining and you have no fixed abode, well, everything is relative.
I nodded off under the arches near Oxford Road station on Whitworth Street in Manchester. Thankfully, someone had been thoughtful enough to build an Italian restaurant around me that was warm and welcoming (not that I would have noticed given the amount of alcohol canoeing through my veins).
If you want to dine in a beautifully preserved piece of British Victorian architecture. If you want to eat traditional English grub like fish ‘n’ chips, corned beef hash and steak and kidney pudding. If you want to be served by professional, traditionally dressed, polite and informed waiting staff. And if you want to do this with a cracking fine wine list to choose from, there is only one place to go. Sam’s Chop House in Manchester.
Does size matter? The dreaded question that haunts 90% of men (but never seems to concern the fairer sex), obviously played on the mind of Mohammad Iqbal Tabassum in 2001 when he bought a former Providence Congregational Church to turn it into an Indian restaurant.
The Aakash, which claims to be, and almost certainly is, the largest Indian restaurant in the world, occupying, as it does, a large parcel of land in Cleckheaton, a small town in West Yorkshire.
If the Wolseley is the best restaurant in London, then what about the provinces? Leeds, for example, has a proud tradition of brewing beer, staffing call centres, building the world’s first Dalek shaped skyscraper, and breeding people who say “eeh bah gum!”. So surely not a place for fine dining then?
Prezzo, the Italian restaurant chain whose only USP seems to be weird artwork has opened a branch in Thame, Oxfordshire.
Do you eat ready meals? The UK is one of the world’s leading producers (and consumers) of ready meals, and I mean by volume, not necessarily quality. Is that good or bad? What does it say about our work addicted society that we no longer have time to enjoy a home cooked meal with friends/family at our own tables?
I went to see Private Lives, the excellent Noël Coward play, at the equally excellent Library Theatre, St Peter’s Square, Manchester. So needing sustenance to prevent my guests having to suffer the slings and arrows of my outrageous belly rumbles, we pulled in to Gio’s on Lower Mosley St, opposite the Midland Hotel.
There is a brilliant pre-theatre menu at £8.95 for two courses. I picked the Insalata Caprese and the Penne Tagliatelli alla Francesca.
Here’s a tip. When you order a pasta dish, always mix and match the pasta with the sauce.
Of all the restaurants where I have sat beneath a canopy of Maple leaves, Le Perron in Geneva is undoubtedly the best, or come to think of it, actually the only one. Having said that, I suppose I should be grateful to be sitting outside at all in October in Europe.
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