Restaurant Review: Manchester House

Mr GFB, if you’re reading this, please stop, close the page and walk away. We’re going for our anniversary next month, and so you don’t need to know the details in advance.

Has he gone? 

This lunch at Manchester House was supposed to be a bit of a treat for me and Mr GFB. In the end, work intervened and he couldn’t get the time off, so I used it a an opportunity to review and treat a friend to a much needed lunch date. So if you’re still reading this love, stop. 

I’ve been lucky enough to attend a few events on the 12th floor, which have often included nibbles created by Aidan Byrne, and had lunch previously – but given that lunch was 18 months ago, I was long overdue a revisit, though I’ve still yet to indulge in the full tasting menu.

Lunch at Manchester House is, to put it mildly, a bit of a bargain. The 6 course tasting menu will set you back £60, the 14 course £95 (both excluding wine flights, which are an extra £35 and £75 respectively), whereas lunch will cost you £22.50 for 2 courses, £27.50 for 3 courses, or 8 courses for £60 (£35 for the wine flight).

If like me, you like luxury on a budget, the three course menu and a glass or two of wine will cost you the same as a dinner in a lot of other venues. And you get to take the day off work, as it’s only available Tuesday to Friday – so you can plan a romantic day together. Lazy morning, rise in time for lunch, a long autumnal afternoon walk and back home again for wine in front of the fire. For example. 

Worth it.

However, my date for lunch was the lovely Cheryl rather than Mr GFB and luckily her enthusiasm for food is on par with my own. We opted to stick to the three course menu, and make sure that we chose different options so we could try everything. Given they’ve recently changed the menu, not a bad decision at all. 

Our first course, one given to all, was a crisp toasted buttery brioche, with soft creamy roast chicken butter (crispy bits and all) served with an artichoke consomme, with chicken oyster. Round creamy umami flavours to gently awake the taste buds. It’s a whole new level of comfort food. 

Onto our starters and firstly an apology because I can’t actually find my picture of Cheryl’s selection (so have borrowed hers). Tender rich hay baked mallard, sharp sweet lingonberries and earthy fermented beetroot, it’s autumn on a plate, complete with sprig of heather. 

My own was reminiscent of the last of the summer suns rays. 

Roasted scallop cooked to sweet perfection, grilled and fermented cauliflower with a white chocolate puree hiding beneath the scallop, all presented on a seascape of sea vegetables and shells. The smell of the sea was the extra in this dish, it’s salty ozone making me think of chilly walks along the beach. And yes I know the smell of ‘ozone’ is rotten seaweed, and I don’t care.

Accompanying this was a cauliflower soup, that combined the bitter qualities of the fermented cauliflower with the creaminess of the fresh in a layered soup. I love cauliflower. I loved this as it changed with the angle you sipped it. 

It was then passed to us that chef (yes Mr Byrne was in the kitchen) would like to send one or two tasters our way.

Who were we to turn such generosity away? No I don’t look daft do I?

Chef sent us some of the heavenly morsels from his taster menu. First up a nori cracker, topped with pickled mushrooms, smoked anchovies, cepe puree, salmon caviar and seaweed. Layers of texture flooded your mouth. From the crisp cracker, to the pop of the caviar, flavours were in turn earthy, sweet, sharp and creamy. 

 

Then to crisp chicken skin, with foie gras and parmesan mousse topped with fresh pickled onions and dehydrated parmesan. Savoury on a deliciously intense scale, with the onions providing sharp relief from the heavy richness. 

The daintiest and most playful came next. A duck egg skillfully sliced open and filled with prune puree, egg confit, and watercresss soup, dusted with sourdough croutons. The trick was to dig deep to the prune puree and catch it’s sweetness mixed with the egg yolk and soup. Unexpected.

And finally, before we returned to our original three course menu was cheese and onion. 

Ribblesdale goats cheese and onion soup with Jabugo ham. The onion is frozen into the spherical shape you see above, the ham cubed inside and the soup….

Is poured into the dish, warming and melting the onion into an incredibly intense cheese hit. 

Salty, rich and satisfying. 

It was almost with reluctance we returned to our original selections, but reluctance was soon replaced with delight as our next courses arrived.

Cheryl’s venison with heritage carrots, pickled elderberry, kale and broccoli looked stunning. Again autumn on a plate – Cheryl admittedly wasn’t a fan of the kale, not everybody is, but was thrilled with the tender venison.

My own main, was again a dip into richness. John Dory fillet with salt baked parsnip, Albufera sauce with foie gras butter, onion crumb and potato.

It was intensely creamy, intensely buttery and heavenly. But I must admit that the level of intensity did perhaps overpower the fish with flavour, though its texture held up well to the weightiness of the other elements. 

We made our way into dessert feeling rather full, but determined to finish every mouthful. Cheryl selected the Manchester Tart – a deconstructed version with not a crumb of pastry in sight. Light, crisp coconut wafers and banana parfait sat happily with toasted meringue and sharp raspberry tuille. 

I had returned to the autumnal menu with blackberry apple and bay.

Compressed bay purée, dusted with pistachio crumb, blackberry parfait and meringue, and little hits of diced apple. The inclusion of beetroot shoots adding a distinctly earthy touch. 

A delightful finish to a stunning lunch. 

See you next month.

Lunch was paid for by myself, bar the additional tasters sent by chef, for which we are profoundly grateful.