Sole Restaurant Review

GORDO visited no less than four different restaurants last week. This review is about the only one in  Manchester, Sole.

By gum, the lemon posset,  a dish Gordo would never be bothered with normally was sheer class, half a fat wine glass full topped up with fruit that didn’t know it was the middle of winter. A tour de force.

The second two were Cambio de Tercio and Zucca in London, the final one was on a completely different planet altogether. It was Players in Hale, a place known for housing the support caravans for footballers, who live further up the road in Camelot, aka Alderley Edge.

Gordos Non-Drinking Partner Siobhan

By support caravans of course Gordo means the agents, solicitors, accountants and other assorted hangers-on which include a good many women intent on preserving the title WAG for posterity. Nannies outnumbered front of house staff, whilst their charges ran around in Vivienne Westwood outfits, each one clutching a top of the range iPad2. Gordo spent the afternoon with his chin on the floor, wondering whether or not to come back next Sunday with a balaclava to supplement his meagre wages.

It has to be said mind you that the roast beef lunch is a good one, with the exception of the roast spuds which were like cardboard. Gordo kept nicking the chips off his Mum’s plate instead, they were top. Anyways, let’s talk about Sole.

Sole is a new restaurant in the Northern Quarter of Manchester, a stone’s throw from Affleck’s Palace. It’s in a new building, whose interior is smart in a step-up-from-a-good-Solicitors-canteen kind of way. It has shiny black tables and shiny black leather roll-back chairs with an afterthought of a bar stuck in the corner of the room, as if a newly done-good builder had been finishing off his front lounge. Just made a few bob? Let’s have a bar!

There is something not quite right about this décor. The first mistake that may go unnoticed by Gordo’s readers are the chairs. Charlie from Halo, the company that imports tens of thousands of them from China, beefing up the balance of payments problem and therefore, the impending Third World War (yes, Charlie, it will have been all your fault) has been in here selling. Gordo has been looking at these chairs for nine years now and he is bored of them.

Nicely Gooey Bread

What Gordo has been trying to figure out all weekend is: what was the real problem with Sole’s room? Why did it not have the same atmosphere as Cambio de Tercio, the family run Spanish restaurant on Old Brompton Road in London?

The two places aren’t all that different in quality of food (more later); same amount of covers, both with low background music. The walls in Tercio are a little more daring with their pink glow and fantastic paintings.

The staff are a little showier but let’s not forget that Sole has a front of house that has worked at Heathcotes Longridge restaurant, a gaff that had two Michelin stars at its zenith. So why did Tercio feel so much more like an experience of going to a restaurant, rather than an up market solicitors canteen?

Well, Gordo has just figured it out, going through the pictures. It’s not entirely the fact that Tercio has comfortable chairs with superb slouch-ability. It’s table cloths.

Tercio has fantastic linen tablecloths and napkins, Sole doesn’t. There is something about proper tablecloths that shouts special occasions as well as a place worth hanging about in the bar and spending a few more bob later.

But Not Without A Tablecloth

Thick cosy table cloths would be able to damp down the noise from a painful table of eight in the window, whose women-folk appeared to be practicing the art of frightening Hyenas. They would envelop your legs, make you feel cosy. They seem to soak up harsh light whilst wafting candlelight along the room in the evening.

Table cloths are the future in Gordo’s minds. And given that the fit-out cost of Sole must have been pretty chunky, well over three hundred grand, table cloths would cost them under a hundred quid a week. Most restaurants ‘rent’ them. And linen whispers that the grub is going to be good too.

Because, folks, in Sole, the grub really is good.

Fish in Sole is pushed to the forefront of the menu to an extent, and the kitchen handles it  with confidence, clarity and imagination, marrying it off with well cooked ingredients that boost the flavours.

The seared scallops (£11.50)  were tip-top from the ingredient’s point of view, sat on a cauliflower purée with some lightly sautéed wild mushrooms of ample flavour. A light sprinkle of fleur de sel would lift the dish from pretty good stuff to outstanding. Can we find an alternative to cauliflower puree, any ideas from you lot?

Scallops

Mackerel á la plancha, (£5.95), a good strip of the fish cooked to crispy on the skin side and soft and lush on the flesh side was a star - the cook had watched his fish on the heat like a hawk. The dressing was a delightful tease with a quick slash of acidity to balance of the fish’s oiliness whilst the tiny salad leaves played their part with much grace.

Mackerel

A small bowl of soup, a present from the chef, velouté of pumpkin with seeds showed a master with the basic stock whilst the monkfish (£19.95) and cod (£18.95) were treated like Kate Moss in a great fashion house, well dressed but not tarty. Well, maybe the cod (main picture at the top of the page) could have been toned down slightly allowing Kate to show a bit of leg. But fab flavours abound with extra sea spirit thrown in with the additions of squid ink and tiny mussels.

Puddings weren’t really required but had to be tested for you lot. Pavé of chocolate (£6.95) was a very showy dish, chocolate lovers will be delighted. But, by gum, the lemon posset,  a dish Gordo would never be bothered with normally was sheer class, half a fat wine glass full topped up with fruit that didn’t know it was the middle of winter. A tour de force.

Chocolate Stuff

Service is timely and professional, the girls a cheeky delight. A young team in the kitchen show great promise, you can expect to see the food getting better here. Attention to stuff like the gents toilet cubicle, where a blind man had started to have a wee and was then spun round was an unexpected problem. Everywhere else was immaculate.

But back to the table cloths. Why don’t these appear more often? It would lift the place, soften it, add personality, whilst Gordo would not have to spend most of his meal wondering about the best way to strangle the hyenas by the window. 

By the way reader Ray, wine was middle of the road, my pal Siobhan from the Manchester Food and Drink Festival was off carbs and booze so Gordo had a couple of glasses of champagne to himself, Pol Roger at £7.95.

Having said all that Sole is still thoroughly recommended.

Follow @GordoManchester on Twitter.

Sole, 37 Turner Street, Northern Quarter, City,  M4 1DW. 0161 839 5600           

Rating 15.5/20 (please refer to our marking criteria in the box below, the scores compare like with like in terms of venue category)

Food: 7.5/10 (This place will improve and could put on another 1.25 points by the end of the year)
Service: 5/5
Ambience: 3/5