GORDO found himself in Wilmslow recently, checking out a sports bar up for sale with his pal and well-known city restaurateur, Nurez Kamani.
Gordo decides to change the subject, whilst noticing that every Jackdaw in the region had queued up on the eves of the roofs opposite, eyeing Fatty up and down like some Cheshire version of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds.
The bar was quickly discounted as a potential new site, so Kamani took Gordo for a coffee and some breakfast in Alderley Edge.
We stopped by a place called Prontofresco on London Road, known to some locally as Victor's.
It wasn’t open, so Kamani started banging on the door; the owner was stood behind the counter doing some prep. Victor was his name, and front of house service wasn’t his game.
“Fuck off,” shouts Victor. “We’re closed.”
Prontofresco
Not being the shy retiring sort either, Kamani continues to bang the door down. Victor looks up. "Oh it's you," says Mr Happy, letting us both inside.
“Don’t ask for a menu, don’t ask for anything,” whispers Kamani, as we sit down in a café full of stacked chairs and tables, which Victor begins to haul out onto the street.
Gordo then notices Victor place reserved signs on each of the tables.
He then comes inside, goes behind the counter, grabs some bread, walks back out and starts sticking bits of bread on the branches of a tree but a few feet from the front of his shop.
“You want coffee?” asks Victor on his way back to the counter.
“Yes please," replies a very confused Gordo, one eye on Victor and the other on the tree adorned with bits of a freshly baked, crunchy Italian loaf.
“Who is he?” Victor asks Kamani.
“He’s a pal Victor, Gordo; he’s a food critic in Manchester.”
Victor eyes Gordo up and down with distaste. Seventy if he’s a day.
“I had that other critic in my restaurant a few years ago down in Soho,” says Victor. “Egon Ronay. Didn’t much like him, either.”
Ay up Fatty
Gordo decides to change the subject, whilst noticing that every Jackdaw in the region has queued up on the eves of the roofs opposite, eyeing Fatty up and down like some Cheshire version of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds.
“Err, have you got a big party arriving on the tables outside Victor?” asks Gordo referring to the reserved signs.
“No," replies Victor, “I just don’t like people sitting at them.”
Bizarre doesn’t even cover it. Victor then starts delivering food, and Gordo begins to get that fuzzy feeling.
He places some bruschetta on the table that were, for the first time outside of Messina, worth eating. The toast was warm, with a slight crunch but soft interior, the pesto a delight; Victor has a favourite brand, he doesn’t make it in-house; but he does have his little additives, the likes of which he wouldn’t share with Gordo ("What you think I am? Fugging idiot?"). Whatever they were, those little bits of extra stuff turned a great product into a historic one. The tomatoes and basil draped on top were full of sunshine and promise.
Bruschetta
Pizza
A bowl of pasta lands on the table, penne with tomato and basil sauce, then a perfect pizza strewn with artichoke and fresh mushrooms - Victor makes all his own dough for the pizza bases and bread.
Finally, Victors take on Tiramisu. He was catering for a party of Japanese diners that evening, and had been prepping when Kamani beat his door down. Victor gave Gordo one of the puddings he'd prepared for them.
“I like the Japanese,” Victor said. “I don’t know what the fugg they’re sayin’, and they haven’t a clue what I’m going on about either. Good payers though. Suits me fine.”
'I’m loving this Tiramisu' was ringing through Gordo’s mind. An orange variation, made with Sicilian oranges. It was a bowl of happiness in a dark world.
Victor
“I was in here the other day, two ladies sat down outside and ordered a coffee," Kamani starts telling Gordo. “Victor tells ‘em to get off up the road to Costa."
The place by now smells fantastic from a fresh batch of bread mooching about in the oven.
Speaking of which, Gordo could hear a commotion outside. Turning round he saw that the Jackdaws had arrived from across the road, helping themselves to the bread on the tree. It turns out they’re Victor’s ‘little pals’, and Victor needs as many as possible.
Whilst this man has clearly never read Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People, he certainly knows how to cook. This is very definitely a Gordo Go, that is, if you have the balls to try, and whether Victor lets you in or not.
Ooh. Prices. Haven’t got a clue really, but doubt anything is over a tenner, paninis are in the three to five quid range.
Follow @GordoManchester on Twitter.
Tiramisu: sunshine
ALL SCORED CONFIDENTIAL REVIEWS ARE IMPARTIAL AND PAID FOR BY THE MAGAZINE.
Prontofresco, 12a London Road, Alderley Edge, Cheshire, SK9 7JS.
Rating: Either 19/20 or 11/20 (see below).
Food: 9/10
Service: 1/5 or 5/5 - depending whether or not you have a sense of humour
Ambience: 1/5 or 5/5 - same as above
