IT seems the Editor and Gordo have something they can agree on for a change (click here); we should all stop moaning on about everywhere else having better food than we do. Because in general, it ain’t true.
Over all, this restaurant does what any restaurant of quality does. It provides us punters with a truly great dinner; some talking points, service that will become a Swiss clock movement, wines to broaden your horizon and finally, allows you to walk away knowing that you have had a great occasion.
Manchester, Liverpool and the North West has a breadth and depth of good to great cooking that is close to blossoming into something stunning; the signs are there.
The knowledge that people possess about food and drink here in the region is greater than ever and their passion for it pours out of Twitter, Facebook and the commentboards, especially on Confidential.
Simon Rogan, chef, left, Mike Magrane, Midland manager, right
If we go back to 1978 there was something to really moan about. The restaurants, with one or two exceptions, were pretty horrific. One of the exceptions was The French at The Midland Hotel.
It was great, Escoffier food with an opulent room. Walking in was a buzz. It had access to its owner’s wine cellars, British Transport Hotels, which were arguably the best in Europe.
When Gordo was sixteen they had a half bottle, a full bottle and a magnum of 1961 Chateau Lafite Rothschild, one of the five finest red wines in the world and one of the four best vintages of the 20th century. They also had a 1967 Chateau d’Yquem, the best Sauternes in the world. Gordo drank a bottle of this at La Bonne Auberge in Cheadle Hulme with Paul Boutinot, then the sommelier in his family’s charming restaurant back in 1980. Today it would set you back over £2,000.
Paul reminded Gordo of this at a lunch given by George Bergier in the private dining room at The Albert Chop House on Albert Square. George is one of the great sommeliers in the North West and spent time at the Midland. During a celebration of his four and a half decades of service, he chose a dish that a very young Gordo shared with his father, Roy Garner, all those years ago.
A chateaubriand; a double fillet of beef, smeared in foie gras and mushrooms, enclosed in pastry and served with a madeira sauce. We didn’t have a bottle of that Lafite but we did have Roy’s favourite, a 1966 Le Chambertin, the Emperor of Burgundies.
George and chateaubriand
In those days there were always specials, sometimes wheeled out on one of those domed shining brass trolleys; memorable was a haunch of spring lamb, roasted with garlic and rosemary. Another that knocked Gordo off his seat was a whole turbot steamed in a turbot kettle. So what, you may ask. Well this sucker was a good metre in length and weighed in at eight kilos.
The French has been getting weary.
Gordo had given up on it ever coming back to tip-top. However, a few months ago, he was starting to hear strange rumours about a Michelin-starred chef taking over. These rumours crystallised when he spoke to Simon Rogan, the chef who owns L’Enclume up in Cartmel, Cumbria. Simon holds two Michelin stars.
Meeting both Simon and the Midland’s canny general manager, Mike Magrane, a couple of weeks before the opening to get some background, Simon took Gordo through some of the changes up at Cartmel; his cooking has matured and his ingredients, many grown on his own farm, were becoming the star of the show.
Gordo asked him what the food in The French was going to be like.
“Essentially I want to grow the perfect carrot. Then do fuck-all with it”
The team have installed a polytunnel on the roof of the hotel to grow their own herbs and vegetables. This is serious stuff.
The room has been lightened too, with pastels on the walls and a carpet that is unusual. You will either love it or hate it.
The new French
Gordo, unlike the Editor, doesn’t go in much for commenting on décor, everyone to their own. Simon’s personality is certainly there, with tables of light Cheshire Oak that remind him too much of Ikea. There are two fabulous lighting centrepieces. And very comfortable chairs. But even so, the main points are the food and the presentation to Gordo’s mind.
Simon has two menus at dinner; six courses at £55 and ten at £79. There is also a three-course menu at £29; this is available at lunch. One other point, the ten-course dinner is the only choice on a Saturday night.
Proper solid bread
Gordo has been twice, once on the ‘pre opening’ pro-comp’d by Mike and Simon, then on the opening night as a paying guest. On the first evening we were treated to a few different wines off the list. More later. But of the food? A giveaway of hazelnut biscuit, smoked eel, leek, onion ashes, delivered on a small plank of what looked like driftwood was a good indication of the balance that is achieved throughout the menu. It was lovely.
The first full dish arrived in a small bowl, dry.
Artichoke broth with truffle dumplings, bacon, radish and hazelnut.
The broth arrived in a small teapot and was poured by one of the pre-Rogan waiters, slightly nervously having been used to silver service previously, but with great charm and grin on his face. We knew each other well.
Broth of heaven
To be frank, this dish worried Gordo. It was so good that he thought the team had served the money shot too early. How on earth could they carry this on? It is the perfect dish. The artichoke broth was glossy.
Think on that word, glossy. Gordo didn’t spot him, but Doctor Who had been in the room that evening. At the end, he had jumped in The Tardis, dialled back to 1450 and told Gutenberg, the inventor of the printing press, to insert the word ‘Glossy’ into the first dictionary he printed.
“What does it mean?” asked a baffled Gutenberg.
“Silken, lustrous, burnished,” replied The Doctor, “perfect for the Queen of broth.”
No, Gordo hasn’t been smoking opium, it was that good. Don’t start him on the truffled dumplings. The Doctor did the same trick with the word melting.
Ox in coal oil, pumpkin seed, kohlrabi and sunflower shoots.
This kept up the pace; lovely on the practice run, fully polished on the paying evening and delighting with its tiny emulsions setting off the tartare of beef, the oils delivering flavours that lifted the dish on the palate. If this dish were wine, it would be a Grand Cru served at the right age, with a long finish.
Ox and more
The dishes kept coming; fresh crab a hedonistic offering that gladdened the heart; another dish of scrambled eggs with unusual herbs on a razor clam shell and razor clam in the egg shell screaming meatiness at all and sundry. Bit fiddly on the presentation mind you. And, watch out for your eggs guys, they were a little bland first time round. Second time perfect.
Eggs and clams as art
The salad course was the star of the show. Impossible to describe. When finished it reminded Gordo of losing a lover; he felt depressed.
The sole fillet with onions, smoked scallops, parsley and leeks were let down by a heavy hand on the sole, it had dried a touch, sadly on both occasions.
Sing for this salad
Studded Cumbrian rose veal was a challenge. It was studded with pork fat. Gordo doesn’t generally like rose veal, its neither one thing nor the other unless it’s handled with a touch of brutishness. The cut on offer here, fillet, is particularly underworked on the animal and requires some help. This dish confused Gordo; he would love to know what the readers think.
Veal appeal
There were two puddings; one was a bit of a dud. It should be served at breakfast. It involved granola. However, the pear, meadowsweet and rye, buttermilk, linseeds hit the spot. Light, tart, tangy, sweet, creamy; there was an awful lot packed into this one.
Everybody likes a nice pear
Finally, with coffee, came sass ‘n’ soda, a delightful play on those ice cream sandwiches off the van when you were a kid, this one having a cup of what can best describe as dandelion and burdock on acid. It left Fattie with a huge grin on his face.
Wines drunk on the first evening started with a glass of Nyetimber, an English sparkling wine that Gordo scored higher than Moet and Taittinger last year in a blind tasting.
We then had a premier cru chablis, Fourchaume, domain Jean de Faix, 2010, showing classic flint and Cumbrian butter. Riesling from Chile, normally a flabby nightmare was an Emiliana Reserva, 2011 Bio Bio Valley, it clearly comes from a bit of height which lends it a nice crisp finish.
A pinot noir from Santa Barbara, California, 2011 was truly stunning. A quick check on Google shows you can buy it for about £13. You could say it was moore-ish. Very good body. A handful.
Sass-y indeed
At the second dinner Gordo, who was joined by a very pregnant Ruth Allan, treated himself to a stand out bottle of Chateau Gruaud Larose, a ’99, a typically feminine St Julien.
The wine list here is terrific. No 1961 Lafite, but Gordo can live with that.
Over all, this restaurant does what any restaurant of quality does. It provides us punters with a truly great dinner; some talking points, service that will become a Swiss clock movement, wines to broaden your horizon and finally, allows you to walk away knowing that you have had a great occasion.
For all you moaners out there this is the place that will change your mind about the quality of dining in Manchester. Simple as that really. Go, at least once a year. This is your restaurant; give it and its worthy team your support.
You can follow Gordo on Twitter @GordoManchester
ALL SCORED CONFIDENTIAL REVIEWS ARE IMPARTIAL AND PAID FOR BY THE MAGAZINE.
The French, The Midland Hotel, 16 Peter St, Manchester M602DS. To book for a meal at The French - click here.
Rating: 18.25/20 (Remember venues are rated against the best examples of their kind so check out the box below)
Food 9.25 (Artichoke 10/10, Ox 10/10, Crab 10/10, Sole 7/10, Veal 8/10, Pear 9/10, Sarsaparilla 10/10)
Ambience 4.5/5
Service 4.5/5
