Not that I'm spoiling for a fight! Just a bit becalmed until a new wave of quality openings lifts the mood.
Hence Choice, an award-winning restaurant around for a few years that had simply passed me by, is this week's port of call. It had always been one cobbled waterfront too far in the far reaches of Castlefield.
I was sparked into action by its recent win in the Taste Of Manchester category at the Manchester Tourism Awards (a mite self-glorifying, rearrange the words 'trumpet, blow, own' and you get my drift).
That award was sponsored by the worthy North West Fine Foods, so I knew I was guaranteed properly sourced regional raw materials, though I don't think the salmon are spawning just yet in the Medlock outside Choice.
I always feel like an extra in some BBC Mrs Gaskell dramatisation when I wander through Castlefield. Time has mellowed what was the first raw frontier in the recolonisation of our industrial heritage. It feels lived in and loved (though a few more shops and services wouldn't go amiss).
Choice is almost a template for warehouse conversion with its exposed brick and clever wall lighting. It is divided into a bar and dining area both looking out on the picturesque river/canal basin.
An ugly pair of firedoors at the back of the dining area and a dingy corridor to toilets in need of refurbishment spoils the cosy effect created by cream upholstery and red carpet.
While we were studying the menu with the aid of a couple of glasses of kiwi sparkler Pelorus the lowering sun went in and a dark satanic shudder wracked my consumptive companion Seth (enough Mrs Gaskell, ed). Suddenly the whole place felt a little chipped or scuffed, in sore need of a revamp.
Attentive
The welcome was warm enough; the various young waiters were attentive without being bread-bothering; our chosen red, an Errazuriz Pinot Noir 2005 was a smooth, strawberryish charmer; and the menu offered distinct promise.
Our early evening dinner (only one other table was occupied when we sat down) peaked early with an excellent duo of starters. A grilled mackerel fillet atop a crisp black olive-flecked potato cake (£5.95) was a fresh, oily delight cut through by a cucumber and horseradish emulsion. Seth wolfed it like a bargee possessed and wiped his jowls clean with his checked neckerchief (enough Mrs G).
My king scallops on a Cheshire cheese scone is a veteran Choice signature dish and I can see why. The chewy bake soaked up a puddle of saffron sauce spiked with chives, the firm scallops caramelised to a turn, all for £7.50.
Love a duck, said Seth, and that's what he had. Again it was a dish that featured in our esteemed organ's last review of Choice.
I admire the confidence of a chef from 'if it ain't broke..,' brigade, but the slabs of duck breast with chilli and honey ice cream was one-dimensional, its bed of broccoli, spring onion and sesame seed salad lacking in zing. It was £17.95 and one felt the ultimate bill was bound for the uncharted waters beyond £100.
My main cost the same and again just missed the boat. A handsome piece of grilled sirloin, properly rare was swamped by the accompanying flavours of bottle artichoke, Portobello mushrooms and sun-blushed (ugh) tomatoes in a salty mélange. Some redemption came in the form of crispy, battered jalapeno peppers.
We shared two chocolate puds (£4.95 and £5.50 respectively). The more expensive chocolate terrine pipped the moist white chocolate cheesecake, which was anything but, though the bitter chocolate sauce was appealingly 'amer'.
Mark Urry's cooking is accomplished and his materials not to be faulted, but the whole experience felt a bit like Manchester standing still. And that's where I came in. Still, on the horizon...
Choice, Castle Quay, city centre (0161 833 3400).
What do you think? Have your say.
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