Week 51: in which a bowl of pasta reviews Gino D-Acampo
Sleuth is a sideways glance at the city each week. It's the truth, but Sleuth's truth. Sometimes Sleuth even gets serious, but not often... @mcrsleuth
Pankhurst scary salutes
It was a lovely ceremony on Friday 14 December to welcome Emmeline Pankhurst back to Manchester in bronze form. The Mancunian campaigner for Votes for Women is one of the most important daughters of this city and a statue was way overdue. There was speechifying, singing, dancing, plus processions converging on St Peter’s Square, it was colourful and loud. Perhaps though, Hazel Reeves, the sculptor, was ill-advised asking people to raise their right arm to mimic the posture of the statue. The latter’s arm is horizontal, pointing to a future of equal rights. Unfortunately because of the tightly packed nature of the crowd, people had to lift their arms, as shown on the picture above. The result: people on passing trams wondered why there was a rally of female Nazis in St Peter Square.
Mourinho not going anywhere - oh yes he is
This was an MEN headline on Tuesday morning. It’s hell with rolling news these days. He was sacked later in the day.
Mourinho makes Portuguese man happy
Sleuth was talking to a Portuguese resident of Manchester this week called Jose. He said he wanted to personally thank the ex-United manager. “Before Mourinho,” said the man, “nobody in Britain could pronounce my name correctly. They always pronounced it the Spanish way, now they say it properly.” So Jose, on behalf of all the Portuguese men called Jose across the country we salute you.
Jose Marr Morrissey Mourinho
Thanks to this mash-up maestro, Mourinho has been given a permanent Mancunian memory courtesy of a re-jigged Smiths’ tune
Marilyn Monroe reveals all
Sleuth was in Sandbar sifting through his bitcoin (yes you can buy beer with bitcoin at Sandbar as Sleuth has previously mentioned). He sat close to the window and had a look at Michael Mayhew’s ‘Cabinet of Curiosities’ artwork to see what was in there. There was a catalogue on the table giving details. So what was that weird thing - number 9? Oh, right. And urgh
Mouth opens on Turner Street
Sleuth was the second customer. He would have liked to have been the first but he wasn’t. He was bumbling around the Northern Quarter waiting to have the screen on his phone repaired for the umpteenth time. On Turner Street he walked straight into an open mouth. Boca Bar, the brainchild of Donna Robinson, has arrived. Boca means mouth in Spanish and alongside drinks, the bijou but delightful bar will specialise in charcuterie when the full menu arrives in the New Year. Sleuth recommends nipping along right away, it’s a very cute place for a drink. “Anything daft happened while getting ready, any advice for other bar owners?” Sleuth asked Donna, who already has a bar in Monton. “I advise that you should never buy a second-hand ice making machine, ours broke twice and flooded the basement.” “I’ll bear that in mind,” said Sleuth, wondering what to do with all the second-hand ice making machines he’d bought as Christmas presents.
Sleuth and discoing with the Messiah
Sleuth was with a large group walking around Manchester Art Gallery. The group stopped in the Pre-Raphaelite section. Sleuth watched as four people detached themselves from the group and approached a Holman Hunt painting. This is The Shadow of Death and features Christ with his arms raised in a Y-shape. It depicts him in his pre-Messiah days when he had a proper job and he’s stretching after sawing wood in his carpenter’s shop. Ominously his shadow is reminiscent of the crucifixion. The four people, separated. One took the picture, while with Christ’s Y as the first letter, the other three made the MCA of the Village People’s disco hit. Irreverent? Yes. Hilarious? Absolutely.
Interviews with Inanimate Objects: Gino D’Acampo Bowl of Pasta
This week it’s time to ask punchy questions of a Gino D’Acampo bowl of pasta.
Sleuth: How long have you been a bowl of Gino D-Acampo pasta?
Pasta: About ten minutes.
Sleuth: You’re a seafood linguine aren’t you?
Pasta: Yes, a fit one, with mussels. Ha, get it? Muscles, mussels. But I never get crabby, although I sometimes clam up.
Sleuth: Very good. Has it been easy working with Gino D’Acampo, what’s he like as a chef?
Pasta: Well, to be honest, we don’t see much of him and we never see him cooking here. You see, he’s always off doing his main job?
Sleuth: What’s that?
Pasta: Smiling. He likes to smile at everything, flashing his pearly whites at cameras, at magazine photographers, at celebrities in awkwardly set up ‘meetings’. He loves having his photo taken. Oh, I nearly forgot, he particularly likes smiling at mirrors, you know, rubbing his hand through his hair and winking at himself.
Sleuth: Some say his restaurants are simply an elaborate experiment in human behaviour to prove that people don’t think for themselves and go anywhere if there’s an association with a celebrity rather than seek out a better alternative. There’s a rumour going around that he isn’t Italian at all, that’s he’s a RADA trained actor putting on the accent, after all it is ridiculously exaggerated. Is this true?
Sleuth: I’m going to eat you now.
Pasta: That’s why I was put on this earth.