Mana, Manchester (*)

12 February 2022
https://manarestaurant.co.uk/

Alert! Attention! Alarm! Vnimaniye! This one is a biggie.

After nearly 13 years together, Jane does still manage to pull a fast one from time to time and surprise me with something unexpected, very special and, well, just plain wonderful. I passed an exam recently, and was duly informed that months previously Jane had booked a table at Mana for the Saturday lunch slot immediately proceeding results day. I did ask: “What would you have done if I’d failed the bloody thing?”, to which she replied: “Taken you to Mana for the best commiseration lunch of your life.” And it would have been, too.

Mana is Manchester’s only restaurant to possess a Michelin star (at the time of writing). It was awarded the honour in 2020, in recognition of chef Simon Martin’s beautifully executed and presented dishes showcasing the finest British ingredients. Writing in The Guardian in 2019, Grace Dent said: “Each dish at Mana… is a small, fancifully presented art project”, and she’s not wrong. Some of the dishes when they arrived at the table left us at a loss for words in presentation terms - have a particular look at the beef tartar dish and the ice cream dish for evidence of that. There is also an abundance of well trained and attentive staff to take care of you from the moment you step through the door to the moment you leave, meaning that you know that you’re going to have a good time before you’ve even tasted any of the food.

The restaurant is situated in Ancoats, a previously heavily industialised part of the city, which has fast become the new Northern Quarter, with an abundance of restaurants, cafes and bars following significant investment. Mana has an unassuming facade with unobtrusive signage, creating a kind of “We Don’t Need To Tell You Where We Are - You’ll Find Us” vibe. The restaurant itself has a slightly commercial, almost office-like feel to it, which I found a little disorientating at first glance. But then you notice the open working kitchen, which the seating points your gaze towards so you can get a good view of your dishes being prepared. Jane and I were captivated by the activity.

View of the restaurant from the lounge area, where we enjoyed our pre-starters

Upon arriving, we were welcomed to the lounge area where we were immediately presented with something hot to warm us up - a sweet turnip broth with a lemon thyme bouquet. To be honest, the idea was welcome given that the weather was absolutely appalling (February in the North West of England, folks) but I think it’s fair to say that Jane and I didn’t exactly get this one. The idea was great, but the flavours were really strong, almost a bit overwhelming. However, suitably warmed our pre-starters arrived - duck liver and honey mousse with rye and parsley crackers, and barbecued cucumber with gooseberry and coriander gel, served with a whipped horseradish sauce. The mousse was really good, but the cucumber was great - the cucumber itself still had crunch, and the tart gooseberry worked really well with the light, well balanced horseradish. Jane also ordered a really fancy gin and tonic made with an oyster shell gin which Mana had made in collaboration with Manchester Gin, which was fresh and cleverly imparted a sense of being by the sea.

Next was a single bite of artichoke with cremini mushroom and ceps. It was earthy and rich, and a great contrast to the sharp and spicy flavours of the cucumber.

Tea of biodynamic turnips and lemon thyme

Clockwise from left: Rye crakers with parsley, duck liver and honey mousse, grilled cucumber with gooseberry and coriander gel, and horseradish

A warm crust of marinated ceps, artichoke and pilsner

We were then escorted to our table, which was right at the front of the restaurant where we could see the kitchen staff at work. The level of discipline in the kitchen was immediately evident, with orders frequently called and all staff responding in sync to confirm understanding.

Then, short-attentioned-spanned person that I am, I started to turn my mind to drink. As people who don’t know a huge amount about wine, Jane and I are big fans of a drinks pairing with a tasting menu. Someone has done the thinking for you, and you just need to sit back and indulge. Perfect. As Jane was chauffeuring me about for the day, she opted for the alcohol free pairing. I did not - booze all the way for Sarah. The drinks pairing included six glasses of something delicious, with each one presented to the table by a somelier who explained where it was from, how it was made, why it had been chosen to accompany the dish in question, and answer my insightful questions which included: “Why is it orange?” amongst others.

Then the food started to arrive…

One of the things we have admired about Mana for a while is the significant amount of fish and, particularly, shellfish, showcased on the menu, and this iteration was not a disappointment on that front. In quick succession we were served with salt-water oysters from Carlingford Lough on the half shell with a frozen powder of dill, English wasabi and mertensia, langoustine tail with cured egg yolks secured in spruce branches (which sounds particularly poncy, but the smouldering spruce leaves gave a perfumed, smokey aroma which added to the sensual experience of the food), and the rest of the langoustine served in a crispy potato cone with wild garlic. This was served with a crisp sauvignon blanc from Napa Valley for me and and a South African alcohol free sauvignon blanc for Jane. The langoustine and spruce dish was particularly wonderful, and we both really liked how the head and claw meat was used in the later dish.

An example of one of the numerous working stations in the open kitchen

Louet-Feisser oyster, new dill, English wasabi, and macerated mertensia

Scottish langoustine tail, cured egg yolks, and spruce

The rest of the langoustine, potato, and green garlic from spring

Is that enough shellfish? Hell, no! We got a new round of drinks, a Chilean orange wine for me (just colour, not flavour) and a virgin ‘Nogroni’ for Jane. The bitter flavours in each of these paired well with the richer blue Devonshire mussel with garlic, which was buttery and delicious, and the Shetland Islands scallop with roe stock and savoury custard.

Shellfish and custard? What?! For the record, I am a total convert to scallop and custard. The custard is rich and buttery, and the scallop is slightly saline. Our server advised us to disturb the custard as little as possible whilst eating to prevent it from splitting, which we followed explicitly. Take mine and the Doctor’s word for it, fish custard is a wonderous thing.

Fillets of Devonshire blue mussel, garlic cooked for two months’

Why are they orange? Jane’s ‘Nogroni’ and my ‘orange wine’

Scallop from the Shetland Islands, roe stock and custard

Taking a moment to bask in shell-fish induced bliss, our lovely somelier Molly brought us our first glass of red. I was served a glass of pinot noir from Davenport Vineyards in East Sussex - my first taste of English red wine - and a South African no-alcohol blend for Jane. The English wine was unfiltered, giving it a slightly chalky texture which I found pleasant, particularly when paired with the next dish - a tartar of retired dairy cow with smoked eel and lovage, set fermented milk, and a wafer-like disk of stock, served with sourdough bread and cultured butter. I’m not a huge fan of beef tartar, and the we both found the salt level in the meat a little high, but the meat paired with the creamy milk was very good, and the bread was fabulous.

Sourdough and cultured butter with English red wine

Retired dairy cow, V8: lovage, fermented milk, and smoked eel

Then something strage happened. We moved back to fish. But not just any fish. Presenting the King of Fish, poached turbot with an inoculated grain emulsion, caramalised onion and shaved truffle. I was initially sceptical about the placing of this dish, but the meatiness of the turbot paired with the richness of the onions and that truffle (ALL of that truffle - cue me doing my best impression of Homer Simpson encountering the forbidden doughnut) meant that it didn’t feel out of place following the beef and bread. And what about that somewhat unappealing sounding emulsion? It was light and fresh, cutting through the heavy richness of the dish. We also got more drink - a Moroccan chardonnay for me (grown in the foothills of the Atlas Mountains) which was crisp and with a great level of acid, and a South African chardonnay for Jane.

Poached turbot, very caramelised onions and inoculated grains

Another wine, anyone? Back to red for us both - to Austria for me and to Germany for Jane - in preparation for our final savoury dish of hogget, blackcurrant reduction, a rich, breadsauce-like dressing, pumpkin and kale. The hogget was served beautifully rare, and the rich and vinegary contrasting sauces complemented it perfectly. The pumpkin was sweet and smooth, and the kale was crispy and salty. I really liked this dish, but Jane loved it.

A side note on the cutlery accompanying this dish, while we’re at it. The steak knives, one of which you can see in the picture below, are made specifically for Mana by Pareusi, a Birmingham-based manufacturer. Best steak knife either of us had ever used - very sharp and well balanced with a comfortable, sculpted handle. We had a quick look online when we got home to see how much a set would set us back and, at £400 a knife for the economy range, we have parked it for another day.

Cumbrian hogget, blackcurrent wood and Hokkaido pumpkin (from Nantwich)

And finally, to dessert. I wanted to take a moment just to reflect on how lovely this was in presentation terms. A quenelle of salted butter ice cream, with honey, apple and woodruff. Lightly sweet, rich and herby, this was a wonderful way to finish the meal. Plus, we also got a glass of something - prosecco for Jane and a French dessert wine for me. I’m not usually a huge fan of dessert wine, but the gentle sweetness and brioche-like undertone of this one won me over. Or maybe it was because it was 2.30pm and I was drinking my sixth glass of wine. Who knows.

Salted butter ice cream with acidulated honey and woodruff

We had a fantastic afternoon at Mana. It is very much a special occasion kind of place - lunch will set you back £180 per person, with the wine pairing costing around £110 per person, and the alcohol-free version about half of that. But the quality of food and service, and experience of the open kitchen is something worth experiencing. I need to pass an exam more often.

And what about the toast sandwich?
Sarah - Scallop and custard. It’s my new thing.
Jane - The hogget dish, and this from someone who isn’t a fan of lamb, blackcurrent or pumpkin. I guess it’s her new thing, too.

NB: We realise that since our lunch, controversy has engulfed Mana’s head-chef Simon Martin, from his working practices to his CV. Jane and I are staunch supporters of worker rights and believe passionately that workplaces should be safe and healthy environments. We hope that Mr Martin can learn and improve from the controversy and hope that his incredibly helpful and professional staff reap the benefits of those changes.