Restaurant Review – Page 5 – Fantastic Feasts & Where To Find Them

Rudy’s Neapolitan Pizza has taken Manchester by storm, so much so, Napoli has become my second team. Entry to the Ancoats site was a lottery: like a meek sixteen-year-old slipping into Wetherspoons with fake ID and an even faker moustache, I prayed for access. Rudy’s Neapolitan Pizza was too cool for bookings and the queue was an hour. The Mrs started to panic. Fortuitously, Seven Bro7hers BeerHouse was ready and waiting moments away, temporarily quenching hunger pangs with excellent craft ales.

Despite Rudy’s Neapolitan Pizza being consistently busy, I was chirpily greeted and ushered to ring side seats opposite the chefs in a welcoming manner. I asked about the different Mozzarella – I couldn’t tell a word they said – but felt their passion the way deaf people hear the vibrations of an orchestra. I gratefully received delicious samples of the different Mozzerella, even though the pizzas where scarily quick to be served.

Rudy's Neapolitan Pizza Review Northern Quarter Manchester — Mozzarella Magic at Rudys

Rudy’s Neapolitan Pizza is about simplicity; dough contains only four ingredients (flour, water, salt and yeast) and pizzas are only cooked for one minute. Rudy’s is proudly Neapolitan – not ‘thin and crispy’ and absolutely not ‘deep pan’.

Rudy’s pizzas are a thing of beauty. Billowing doughy crusts, rising and falling, before popping with lightly charred edges, run down to tissue paper thin bases. This is the pizza you lament you’ve only had in Italy. The luxurious salty cheese, nostril filling basil aromas, umami pumped tomatoes – this is what no frills Italian cooking is all about. However, toppings inelegantly slide from base to plate, like a collapsed drunk falling from a taxi and everything was very salty; but, with so much savoury deliciousness filling your mouth nobody cared.

How do Rudy’s Neapolitan Pizza create these pieces of magic? It’s simple really. Water, flour, salt & yeast is mixed, before being softened by hand and rolled into perfectly identical balls. To quote these pizza geniuses:” We believe that in order to create a Neapolitan Pizza one must use the freshest, finest and most authentic ingredients; the main event is the Caputo ‘00’ flour which comes straight from Naples to give our dough the bounce it needs”.

Rudy’s Ancoats’ interior was rather plain but the atmosphere carried a real buzz. Considering the characterful wine and reasonable price point – give me Rudy’s Neapolitan Pizza over High Street chains any day.

Rudy’s Neapolitan Pizza Wine Prices

The Rudy’s Neapolitan pizza wine list is small but perfectly formed. They are all Italian wines and despite the small selection, is all you need with pizza. The cheapest bottle of wine is either a Catarratto or a Nero D’Avola, which are both by Palazzo Del Mare, from Sicily at £15.90. The most expensive bottle of wine is a Prosecco by La Vita Sociale at a comfortable £22. If you’re more of a grain than a grape person, the local Runaway Pale Ale is recommended, but I’d suggest the high acidity fruity wines work better with pizza then something just as yeasty.

Rudy’s Neapolitan Pizza Ancoats
Review Score

When the food is this delicious, affordable and service is friendly, it’s hard not to love. Having to walk through Ancoats and being put on a waiting list is a bit of a faff; still, Rudy’s is definitely worth it.

Atmosphere 8/10 Cost 10/10 Quality 9/10 Service 8/10

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Ancoats Manchester

Confidentials: “…to ward off the nasty folk possessed of the evil eye you have to touch your genitals or make the sign of the horns…”
Food Geek Blog: “The space is very basic inside but that doesn’t matter if the food’s up to their usual standard.”

Restaurant Review: L’Escargot Bleu, Edinburgh

May 4, 2017October 11, 2019Leave a comment

L’Escargot Bleu – The Early Bird Catches The Snail

L’Escargot Bleu, a quaint French bistro exuding an understating Parisian chic. But what’s it doing in freezing, pissing down Edinburgh? French restaurants and Scotland have history behind them. In 1295, the ‘Auld Alliance’ brought Scotland and France together through shared interests in controlling England’s aggression. Although primarily forming a military and diplomatic alliance, more importantly for Scots, brought a steady supply of vin francais. I wondered if the seven hundred years of French culinary influence behind L’Escargot Bleu Edinburgh had elevated Scottish eating habits, from deep fried everything with Irn-Bru to haute cuisine and fine wines?

Nestled amongst the stone elegance of Edinburgh’s new town, away from the Playhouse traffic, into the neatly set, dimly lit, late Georgian streets sat L’Escargot Bleu. Behind the proud French navy façade, the interior was tastefully all matt grey, dark wood and flickering candles.

This French romantic vibe just got me in the mood…for something Peruvian. Starting with the Sea Bass Ceviche, arriving oddly hidden under glossy leaves. The dish was vibrant, refreshing – full of citrusy tang. The fish was skilfully sliced, the onions deftly shaved and all and sundry kept their textures determinedly. It was excellent, yet I wanted more. L’Escargot Bleu Edinburgh didn’t match the eponymous ‘Don Ceviche’, by London’s Ceviche restaurants which I’d previously enjoyed; however, they’re Peruvian and double the price. Some well-seasoned, fresh mussels in breadcrumbs were served al la Crunchy Nut Cornflakes. Tasty enough but I wasn’t convinced combining mussels with a crunchy coating was a good idea.

Regarding mains, the cod was a hauling beast of pristine white muscle, yet carelessly fell away from my fork’s gentle glance. The aquatic Olympian was gifted texture by a coat of crumbly, salty deliciousness; and, dutifully guarded by purposeful mussels, all lovingly coated in a boldly seasoned, ethereal light sauce. The deep Burgundy coloured Venison Skewers were of a supreme quality: if you’re into murdering majestic mammals this should be why. The deer was fiercely seasoned, sublimely tender, and rested on perfectly formed couscous. The Vegetable Gratin was more impressive than any side had any right to be: it was a miracle of engineering, being so rich in dairy goodness yet enigmatically light. Solid seasoning, punchy garlic and a weighty dose of (I suspect) nutmeg added a magical je ne sais quoi.

L’Escargot Bleu Edinburgh’s cheeseboard wasn’t as compelling as it appeared: fine but unoriginal fromages, tediously uniform biscuits, avec oily, completely unnecessary salad leaves. However, the goat’s cheese was something special – thick, creamy, pungent mouth-filling titillation of the highest order.

With charming staff, quaffable wine, frighteningly good early-bird value and cosy, continental ambience, L’Escargot Bleu is an Edinburgh gem.

L’Escargot Bleu Edinburgh
Review Summary

Atmosphere 9 Cost 10 Quality 8 Service 9

L'Escargot Bleu Review Edinburgh French Restaurant — L’escargot bleu is listed as ‘Best Newcomer of the Year’ in The List Eating & Drinking Guide, features in the Michelin guide each year.

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L’Escargot Bleu Edinburgh

Restaurant Review: Northcote, Near Blackburn

April 20, 2017October 14, 20191 Comment

Northcote – Lancashire’s Lone Star Lunch

Northcote, (formally Northcote Manor), surrounding by sodden pastures and grey skies, is home to Lancashire’s only Michelin star, fuelled by the formidable Nigel Haworth and Lisa Allen. I thought what better way to congratulate Jesus on rising from the dead, then sniffing out posh Sunday lunch in his honour?

Despite not being particularly stretched, a sense of Northern and Michelin hospitality was undermined by walking both in and out of Northcote without acknowledgement of any kind. It was quite obviously pissing down, yet neither my coat nor dripping umbrella was offered to be removed.

Inside, the lounge area was comfortable and the bar was well-stocked, if not cluttered. Despite Northcote fairly recently having a makeover, I’m not sure the grey, pink, and orange upholstery worked with the period wood panelling. After waiting around for some time, the abrupt host was permanently set on rapid fire: “Have you decided – what would you like – what can I get you?” This unsettling briefing, was contrasted by a sedate dining room. Once seated, the smartly-presented young Northcote team were very cordial and well-organised, but without a sense of occasion. The views of the pretty kitchen-garden in the foreground and rolling hills in the background provide a pleasant back drop, so window seats are recommended.

The amuse bouche had the bittersweet honour of being Northcote’s highlight. Melting magenta shells fleetingly fizzled, birthing a tart, sizzling beetroot flavour, that slapped my taste buds ’round the chops in no uncertain terms.There was no choice but to accept the ~~Dinner~~ Jacket Potato Soup, which was more butter than jacket. The trendy foraged herbs added freshness, although someone’s hair added the opposite. Although this was swiftly dealt with, I doubt a Michelin inspector would have forgave.

The beetroot starter was one the prettiest plate I’d ever seen: vibrant hues and floral shapes, elegantly intertwined in an act of vegetarian poetry. The sweet and acidic elements energetically danced but lacked a focal point. The alien looking Duck was heavily entombed but worked affably alongside the uplifting sorrel, even if it did look like Cousin It.

For mains, the salmon proudly commanded the plate, yet unselfishly yielded to the fork’s graze. The boldly-seasoned fish and convivially sweet roe double teamed the earthy mushrooms, creating a bravely balanced dish which spoke of land and sea in matrimony. The little pops of orange added a touch of vibrancy. While the Japanese influence of soy, shitake and ikura (roe) worked charmingly. The thoughtfully composed lamb was quality dead baby sheep, locally sauced from Bowland, but lacked a je ne sais quoi. It was so rare it walked through the Northcote kitchen. In the two seconds it spent cooking, it was however properly seared and heartily seasoned. The mash was superlatively silky and the scorched and pickled onions added textures and talking points.

Regarding desserts, the trio of British cheeses were delicious, especially a terrified looking puddle of something Brie related. More crackers and less bread I’d suggest though. Northcote’s cleverly crafted cream egg was an enchanting nod to the season, providing deftly constructed contrasting textures, although anything white chocolate and hazelnut is a winner for me.

Northcote Restaurant
Review Summary

Atmosphere 5 Cost 7 Quality 9 Service 8

Northcote Manor Restaurant Review Blackburn Lancashire — Beetroot Amuse Bouche

Northcote Manor Restaurant Review Blackburn — Hazelnut Chocolate Cream Egg

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Category: Restaurant Review

Restaurant Review: Rudy’s Neapolitan Pizza, Ancoats