REVIEW | Salvi's Osteria, Norden

THERE’S an Inspector Montalbano episode set in Rochdale. Honest. The Sicilian sleuth is imported to solve an eternal mystery – why can’t the town support a top class Italian restaurant? OK, there are some much loved places that have moved on from Chianti flasks and strapping pepper grinders, but it’s still criminally lacking in a chic, contemporary, authentically sourced Italian. With Montalbano on the case, all that has dramatically changed.

You can carry a globe of it away in a plastic bag full of whey/water, like bringing a goldfish home from the fair

At the Osteria, in Norden, the Commissario is immediately recognisable in the open kitchen, deep-frying his beloved arancini rice balls (see bottom). There’s even a 2008 episode in the long-running series entitled Gli Arancini di Montalbano. Do a double take, though, and cue red herring (not on the menu); the uomo here is merely a dead ringer.

Amazingly Osteria’s Montalbano lookalike shares a Christian name, Salvo, with the telly ‘tec (his surname is Caruso, like the tenor) and the connection doesn’t stop there. By some weird chance Salvo Caruso hails from the Ragusan village in Sicily where the series is filmed. “My base there is five minutes from the Montalbano house,” the ebullient chef tells me as he plates our burrata – that gorgeous mixture of stracciatella and cream inside a mozzarella pouch.

Salvo’s boss at the new Norden restaurant, Maurizio Cecco, is famous for the mozzarella he imports from his native Naples to sell at his trio of Salvi’s restaurant/delis in central Manchester. You can carry a globe of it away in a plastic bag full of whey/water, like bringing a goldfish home from the fair.

Salvi's Osteria

Cuoppo di mare

Osteria translates as a 'country restaurant serving simple, authentic food' and transforming the former Norden Inn into one has obviously been a labour of love for Maurizio, who lives nearby. From artisan tiles on the floor and kitchen counter to rustic wood panelling and a substantial wood-fired pizza oven, its ethos is obvious. But in the bright, pastel ‘salumeria’ dining area there’s a sophistication to the look, too.

That doesn’t really apply to the food, but that’s no criticism. Pizza and pasta are the bedrock of cooking that aspires to be ‘like Mama used to make’. OK, a quietly accomplished Mama with a store cupboard to die for – we are not talking cheesy Bertolli ads.

I can’t also think of any ‘neighbourhood’ restaurant this side of town that has this quality of wine list. Take their exclusive Erbavoglio white (£24) from northern Piemonte. It is pale straw in colour with a distinct aroma of lemon verbena and sturdier on the palate than you’d imagine.

Burrata

It coped well across decidedly fish-led meals on two recent visits – dishes where the strong flavours of the Mezzorgiorne (olives, capers, tomatoes) were a constant. Exceptions were the Neapolitan street food in a paper bag, cuoppo di mare (£9), deep-fried shrimp, squid and zucchini, just demanding a squeeze of lemon, or the deep-fried calzone with an array of cheese and salami fillings Maurizio pressed upon us – like previously an equally stodgy deep-fried pizza. The latter is a favourite of ManCon editor David Blake, who doesn’t yet worry about his waistline.

Frisetta con polipetti affocati (£8.50) was a different kettle of octopus. The hard bread (frisetta) base we daren’t risk our teeth on, though the baby cephalods atop it were a densely sauced delight. (Still, for a quid more I’d steer octopus lovers in the direction of the more refreshing octopus salad next door on the menu).

We had no problems polishing off our final starter, the aforementioned burrata with sun-dried tomatoes (£8).

Deep-fried pizza

Swordfish special

Both sea bass dishes on the menu are good, but this time we went respectively for baccala alla Napoletana (£21, main image) and a swordfish special (£16). Also alla Napoletana – we were warned it was the same tomato rich sauce with aubergine, zucchini and green olives. Lovely olives, but far too many of them; the fish portions were huge, too, the fodder of Neapolitan stevedores. No doubting, though, the quality of the fresh swordfish or the salt cod. Having tasted five different treatments of the latter in a baccala-specialist restaurant in Naples last year, I thought that’s me done, but this was a chewy treat.

Puddings were the usual suspects – profiteroles, panna cotta, cannoli, tiramisu. A dark chocolate cake (£4.75) was light and not over sweet – not the case with some churro-style dough sticks with dipping Nutella we were also offered. More a mid-morning pick me up with milky coffee, for those who need such a fix. At Osteria it has to be espresso, per favore.

Osteria, 539 Edenfield Road, Norden Rochdale OL11 5XH. 01706 650946.

Chef Salvo Caruso

Inspector Montalbano