Wine (and fittest barmaid of the month)
OK, let’s get straight in with the dish of the month. Maybe not, let’s leave that ‘till later. Let’s do wine first; there are three or four stand out moments. Totally remarkable was an English sparkling wine, called Herbert Hall, drank at lunch with a whole crab at the bar one Sunday at J Sheekey's, the great fish restaurant just off St Martin’s Lane in London theatre land with a whole crab at the bar.
Wine And Crab At Sheekey's
The wine was the first vintage from Marden Vineyard in Kent and Gordo could probably pick it out in a blind tasting now. A blend of Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier and a delicate, feminine wine with a very slight tinge of art-house pink, it was fantastic.
Not Allowed To Call It Champagne
Next up, a couple of Burgundies up in Ramsons in Ramsbottom. Gordo was up there for a farewell dinner, as the remarkable chef, Naz, is leaving to strike out on his own. Gordo took a couple of bottles from his own collection, one of them Charmes-Chambertin ’99, Pierre Bourée Fils. Superb, velvet heaven. From Burgundy of course, Gordo’s favourite.
Wine And Port At Ramsons
Chris couldn’t be outdone of course, so he brought another Burgundy out of his own cellar, Beaune-Marconnets ’88 which again was a world class drink. He couldn’t trump Gordo’s pudding wine, mind you, a Chateau Filhot ’03, a sweet Sauternes. If anyone out there knows where Naz is going, let Gordo know and he will buy you a drink…
Wine of the month was Pintia Toro, 2006, Tempranillo/Tinto Fine, drunk at Confidential’s favourite metropolitan Spanish gaff, Jose Pizarro. This is a fabulous bottle, and Jose proves he is serious about his booze when you consider that Berry Brothers and Rudd have it listed at over £40 wholesale whilst our hero is charging under £80, a sensible margin. Now, look at the picture at the top of this page for the sexiest lady in the bar business.
Plugs
Gordo went to Booths over in the Media City enclave. To try a new brand of pork scratchings, being promoted by Tom Parker-Bowles and the delightful Mathew Fort. Called Mr Trotter’s Great British Pork Crackling, they did taste pretty darn good. These two, mind, being a bit southern, were somewhat dismayed when Gordo explained that us lot up ‘ere had in fact been eating them for many years.
Scratchings By Any Other Name
Young Parker-Bowles, possibly a future step-son to the King of England, was great fun as it happens. He was discussing the average BBC southern senior management’s attitude to moving to Salford and recanted the following brief conversation whilst filming one of his cookery shows.
“It’s just not possible for me to move up there Thomas, my dear boy…” whimpers a fifty-something chap wearing a cashmere cardigan, a neckerchief and shiny corduroys.
“Why not?” asks Tom, wiping his apron.
“Well, for a start, I’m a vegetarian!”
It has to be said that these particular cracklings (or scratchings to us lot) were superior to Mr Porky’s, but not as good as Rob Owen-Browns at The Mark Addy Pub. Mind you, they’re a bit less hairy. Get up to Booth’s everyone, apart from Mr. Trotter’s ‘cracklings’, it’s the best big food store in the area.
Fans
Getting off the tram from Media City after the Booths gig, Gordo bumps into one of his good looking readers.
“Hi Gordo, what are you up to?” she asks.
“Just been to Booths over in Media City,” replies Gordo. “Writing about a new brand of pork scratching,” he adds, feeling pretty darn cool about the whole thing.
“Not exactly war reporting, is it darlin’, ” replies the fit one, who gives Gordo a kiss on the cheek, winks and buggers off up the street giggling.
The War Reporter
Dish of the Month
Honourable mention goes to Southern 11’s hickory wood smoked spare ribs. Sticky, messy and seem to have been stewed in a clay pot for 32 hours more than the 4 advertised hours over a charcoal pit. Angel food.
Australasia has settled into a good consistency. The sous chef has been on the tools the last two times that Gordo has been in, delivering fab stuff, the boss was the mixed sashimi.
Australasia Sashimii
Up at the leaving party for Naz at Ramsons, Lou, the chef from downstairs, came up from the cellar with a wild boar chop. This was a winner. It was a big masculine meaty chop, crunchy, chewy, full of fight. Fantastic. If you haven’t tried Lou’s cooking yet, you should do. It’s called The Hideaway and it’s underneath Ramsons. Arguably she is the best rustic Italian chef in the North West.
The burger at The Oast House in Spinningfields makes the short list, the bun could be softer mind you. And the music could be turned down of an evening.
OK, so with no further ado, the dish of the month was the Wild Brill up in Cartmel at Simon Rogan’s gaff, Rogan and Company. Just Mega-Lush, Gordo can still taste it a month later.
Dish Of The Month Wild Brill At Rogans
The ‘Why can’t we do this up north?’ section
Walking out of Fergus Henderson’s Michelin starred gaff one day in That There London, St. John, Gordo was confronted by this Y board outside the pub a couple doors down. Read it and weep.
Can You Imagine If This Was Outside A Mancunian Pub
Best dinner party
This one goes to the mentalist that is Franco Sotgiu and his lovely missus, Lucy, who had a few people round to try a traditional Italian Bollito Misto, a bloody great big boil-fest of meats traditionally cooked at big family gatherings back in his native Italy.
Franco's Bollito Misto
Arguments rage across Italy about the ingredients as strongly as we argue about Lancashire Hotpot. But, you can rely upon a whole calves tongue, beef brisket, a chicken and some Cottecino, spicy Italian sausages. The stock is used at first as a soup; Franco had made some tortellini, threw them in and served them up. Brilliant.
A copy of the biggest book Gordo had ever seen made an appearance at the table, a copy of Modernist Cuisine, much lauded by Mary-Ellen McTague, co-owner of Aumbry, the outstanding restaurant in Prestwich, who was sat next to Gordo. This is on offer on Amazon at £311 English. Yes, you heard Gordo correctly the first time.
Big money foodbook
Food gig
Gordo was taken to Electrik in Chorlton for a dinner by the poet botherer, Ruth Allen. It was a Monday night, with Electrik showcasing the talents of Simon Shaw, chef at the critic’s favourite tapas bar/restaurant in a weird place in Yorkshire. Simon is excellent and can chat a bit. Gordo isn’t sure if the style of his food was best served in the manner of vertical courses but it has to be said he loved the evening. Electrik is a good bar. Strangely most of the blokes had beards. Weird, Gordo agrees with you. Wines were good from the lads next to the Cathedral, Hanging Ditch, who are getting pretty good at the game. Best of all was a carefully written sign on the wall in the bogs, very Chorlton. See the picture.
On The Bog Wall In Electrik
Restaurant of the month
Bells of Peover. It’s forty minutes from Manchester and fifty from Liverpool, but could be a thousand miles away. Get out there; it will do you the power of good. Gordo’s review of Sunday lunch can be found here.
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