'The hottest table in town': Onda, Circle Square, reviewed

It’s been the hottest table in town for a minute now. More than a minute, actually. For months. Yes, I’m talking about Onda - the pop-up fresh pasta bar that went seriously viral after putting its tiramisu in a drawer last year. Seriously viral as in, over 30 million people watched it on TikTok. I mean, even Florence Pugh shared it. Not that I know who she is, really, but I definitely heard some people were excited about that.

Anyway, the important thing is not really Florence Pugh (who, by the way, I’ve since Googled), nor the person who commented that they wanted it in their bedside table. It’s the fact that all of this tiramisu-based excitement gave Onda the momentum it needed to defy bankruptcy and instead launch a successful restaurant crowdfunder, raising a hefty £40,000 of its £60,000 target in two days. Now, almost a year on from its viral moment of fame, it has a new restaurant on Circle Square, where it’s not only serving up Manchester’s most talked-about tiramisu but also some of the best fresh pasta in the city.

Officially a pop-up no more, after closing its kitchen at the New Cross in March its new restaurant officially opened at the end of June. I tried to book a couple of weeks before and the earliest table I could get was at the end of July. My own fault, really. I should’ve known better than to leave it so late. After all, Onda typically releases its bookings in advance in two month blocks and they don’t hang about. I was hoping to chance a walk-in, but then so, it turns out, were many others - so many, in fact, that Onda stopped offering walk-ins at all for a week or so within a few days of opening. 

Headed up by Michelin-trained chef Sam Astley Dean, who has previously worked at the likes of Chez Bruce, Claridge’s and Elystan Street, the new Manchester restaurant space is all floor-to-ceiling glass windows with a huge fresh pasta making section sat smack-bang in the heart of the restaurant’s dining area. With tall tables topped with pasta rollers stacked in front of the gleaming semi-open kitchen and its chefs busily working away in full view, diners have the chance to scrutinise just how much love, exactly, is being put into their food. As it turns out, it happens to be quite a lot.

Having lucked out and landed a front row seat to the pasta show, I learned this soon after arrival. It’s a wondrous thing to watch, the team busying away dusting, kneading and rolling amid the hubbub of the dining room. After moving from kitchen to kitchen as a pop-up - including a stint with a prep kitchen that you had to scale stairs and cross an underground car park to get to - I expect it feels really nice to have their pasta making station right there, front and centre. They certainly seem happy about it, anyway.

After a quick glance at the menu - divided into four sections: Stuzzi, Pizzetta, Pasta and Dolce - we settle on some Curing Rebels prosciutto (£7.50) and the courgette and basil fritte (£9) to pick at, along with a glass of frizzante (£6.50) from the tap list and an OranCello spritz (£9). The prosciutto is laden with lots of lovely, creamy fat, whilst the fritte proves to be one of the highlights of the meal - light, crunchy, not too oily, with a generous wedge of fresh lemon and a bunch of deep-fried basil heaped on top that I continue to go on about for days afterward.

I quibble over ordering a pizzetta alongside, having first met Sam when he was running his excellent one-man pizza band out of Track Taproom. I know they’re good, but I’ve already had them so many times. If there had been basil mayo listed, then I might have been swayed. But on this occasion, I was happy to skip an old favourite in search of some new ones. 

Drinks sorted, we tackle the fresh pasta list. Having been granted a front row seat to the action, some high expectations have already been set. Onda serves a short but sweet menu of eight pastas, including favourites like Bucatini Carbonara (£12), Lumache Cacio E Pepe (£10), and Malfadine with Beef Shin Ragu. These are dishes I would normally be all over, but it’s a scorching hot day and I’ve not long stomped across town in a rush, late, worrying I was going to lose my table. That sort of setup doesn’t call for a lot of hot meat and creamy cheese on the stomach, so I opt for something a little different. A little lighter, a little fresher.

I think it’s a solid choice but, much to my friend’s chagrin, I go down the fish route. He’s just along for the ride, I’m paying, and he’s told me to order what I want - but he still grumbles. “Get the carbonara then”, I say. “No, no, it’s your review”, he insists. Still, I have a sneaking feeling he still went back and complained that I went too ‘non traditional’ with my order. I’ll stand by it. After all, you probably already know what a good carbonara is going to taste like anyway. The drunken spaghetti, though? That needed its own moment too. 

So, leaning into the difference, first and foremost I land upon a plate of campanelle with Cornish crab and fennel (£16). Joy of joys, summer crab is a favourite - and when Onda first opened at Exhibition I remember having a delicious crab dish that stood out as my favourite, so that was that. Then, spotting another plate of campanelle,  this time with mussels, white wine, parsley and breadcrumbs (£12), I decide to hell with expense, doubled down on frilly cone-shaped pasta and order them both.

Lastly, we round things off with a plate of midnight spaghetti - so known due to its popularity in Italy as a boozy late-night snack. This order, at least, we agree on. That is until it arrives, anyway.

Onda’s version is made using traditional ingredients - garlic, chilli, breadcrumbs, olive oil and parsley - and comes out of the kitchen a vibrant, bright green. Fat noodles of spaghetti, perfectly al dente, are rich with herbs and laden with a healthy sprinkling of crunchy chilli breadcrumbs. ‘It’s almost medicinal, it's so herby,’ chomps my friend with a wrinkled nose, but personally I’m all here for it. It’s interesting, and something a little bit different. Adventurous. Those spicy breadcrumbs are giving a dose of Italian chilli crisp, and - whilst I get the feeling he’s not so keen - I happen to like it a lot. 

The Cornish crab campanelle, meanwhile, is doused beautifully in lemon and herbs and looks great on the plate. It’s also surprisingly delicate, and for me is slightly lacking in the punch department. The bisque, maybe, is a bit too creamy, so I’d have liked a good helping of brown crab in the mix to beef it up. The mussels, though, oh, the mussels. Granted they are a favourite treat of mine, but where fish campanelle number one slightly let me down I’m pleased to say that my back-up frilly fish dish very much came through.

Cooked through in another rich green sauce but still deep with their natural flavour, they give me the fish hit I was craving. Loaded with more crunchy breadcrumbs, layered on top of more luminous green pasta, as we attempted to clear the plates I wished for some bread to mop up the plates’ saucy juices. Still, room had to be left for Manchester’s most famous tiramisu. After waiting so long for a table, it would have been rude not to indulge. 

I’ve actually had it before, pre-drawer craziness, and I’m pretty sure at that point it was just traditionally cut into a square. Not any more. This one comes out looking just like it’s been carved out with an ice cream scoop. Casually laid across the plate  - no straight clean lines, just a big fat, hearty dollop of good pudding - it’s incredibly satisfying to eat, yes, but also to look at. As wild as it sounds, there is something about the legend of the drawer that does, at the point, seem to make it taste better.

Light, airy and creamy with a good dousing of cocoa and delicately soaked ladyfingers, it’s everything I want from a tiramisu and more - helped along by its slightly louche presentation. Alongside, we have an Italian meringue with strawberry compote, a bit too much for the hot day outside - its stiff whipped peaks look impressive, but for me fall a little flat. Wouldn’t it be bold if they just listed the tiramisu on its own, and nothing else, we say. But then why limit yourself to just one thing? And so the conversation goes on until the bill arrives. 

By the end of the meal, I’m happily full and leave floating on a bit of a tiramisu cloud. Trust me, this place is more than just a social media sensation. A joint concept between Sam Astley-Dean and cult Manchester bakery Gooey, it definitely feels like Onda is going places.  Having gone from near bankruptcy to being booked up for months in advance, it’s early days but the offering’s definitely impressive - and I have a feeling that this is just the beginning.

Onda, Circle Square, 3 Symphony Park, Oxford Rd, M1 7FS

Onda is on Confidential Guides