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You are here: Home > Food & Drink > Italian
Stock leads the market
Gordo invests in fine food at Stock
Date Published: 03/05/2007
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Gordo is feeling depressed. His editor has demanded that he reviews another Italian at lunch, Stock, in the city centre. There are, in Gordo’s opinion, far too many Italian (and Italianish) places around. Some, San Carlo, San Rocco and Piccolino are equally good as part of your night out as they are for a quick lunch. The ManCon jury is out on Palmiro in Whalley Range, recently awarded a Michelin Bib Gourmand. Vanessa, our co-reviewer doesn’t like being talked at in Italian on the menu and there was no soap in the bog. Horror. Although the editor loves the place.
So it was with heavy heart that Gordo went and parked his ample arse in a very ample booth table in the aforementioned Stock, an Italian restaurant in the old Stock Exchange, behind Boots on Cross Street. Very swish actually, it’s a white tablecloth gaff with a black and white tiled entrance, cool as Capote bar and a Michelangelo domed roof to the dining room, without the Michelangelo bit. Gordo perked up when, before he ordered anything, he found a squashed ball of pizza dough that had been deep fried (ever so lightly) like a doughnut, and topped off with a tomato, basil and garlic sauce. It was head and shoulders above Croma’s dough balls, which ain’t bad. A little crunchy, a little doughy, hot on the outside, warm on the inside. Herby. Tomato-ey. A lovely er..thingy. Then Gordo remembers who owns the place: Enzo Mauro. Gordo first encountered Enzo and his team twenty eight years ago, in Bollington, near Macclesfield, a classic mill village clinging to the side of the first hill you hit on your way to Whaley Bridge. In a restaurant named after the owner. Gordo was trying to seduce his first true love, Diana Warner, for the second time. Having remembered Gordo the first time round, quite rightly she was having none of it, but Gordo was having plenty of the pizza doughnut thingy. It was better than sex. Especially if you weren’t, like Gordo, getting any.
Mauro, who was the owner/chef at the time, then went on to open Stock and more recently, another gaff in Mottram St. Andrew, Osteria (which needs work) is responsible for the thingies. No one else can make these little bits of naughtiness quite like him. In fact these thingies still, after twenty eight years, have no name. Thingies just arrive. And very welcome thingies they are, as they cheer up Gordo no end. For Mauro was no ordinary Italian chef then and it seems he hasn’t turned into one now. A smidgeon later arrives a seafood platter. The fantastic Maitre d’, Hassan Mohammed, had described to Gordo what seafood was available. “Lobster, Sardines, Scallops, Large Prawns, Calamari”. “Great stuff. I’ll have that”, says Gordo. “Err, which one sir”, responds Mohammed. Gordo slowly looks sideways and upwards at Mohammed. “Ermm, no problem sir, I shall arrange a platter…” OK, San Carlo’s was good. This was un-blinking-believable. Prawns, Scallops and Lobster cooked to THE point before they go tough. Pools of garlic butter nudging and winking at its cousin, freshly chopped parsley. Sardines? Gordo doesn’t know why he orders them. Foul after taste, bony and with a smell that can keep a Big Issue seller at bay, he hates them. Until now. So this is what grilled sardines are all about? How good were they. Best in town. |
Ivana Rusnakova, Gordo’s waitress, glides in and out of service like a ballerina, reminding Gordo that he needs to get a Harley to go with his raging mid life crisis.
This was un-blinking-believable. Prawns, Scallops and Lobster cooked to THE point before they go tough. Pools of garlic butter nudging and winking at its cousin, freshly chopped parsley.
Scialatielli alla carbonara (£7.95) is exactly as it should be. Scialatielli is a pasta two inches long, shaped between string and rope. Like tubes without the tube. Not stringy mind you. Lovely when cooked correctly, the pasta matches the rustic simplicity of the Italian bacon, parmesan and fat fresh egg sauce that looks like it has been thickly painted on; it tastes and smells like it has just been passed through a farmhouse kitchen window underneath a bay tree in Lucca, dappled in early morning sunshine. OK, so Gordo has had four glasses of the Sicilian house white by this time. If ManchesterConfidential.com had awards for best house wine this would pick one up and sprint off with it. No one else in the city could keep up.
Vitello ai funghi e granchio (£17.75), thin strips of veal sealed in garlic butter with oyster mushrooms, white Newlyn crab and cream was the wrong choice after the carbonara, it tasted bland after that and Gordo was stupid having chosen another creamy sauce. Also, forgive him, but Veal has never been the same since the little sweeties were nailed into light-tight coffins from birth. Nice to see each dish matched correctly with it’s own veg, in this case fantastic jersey royals, mange tout and carrots. A feature of all the cooking here is the chef’s understanding of heat and subsequently, when the food should come off it. Gordo was given a complimentary pudding. Zabaglioni, with a tiny poached pear (goddess-like) and a couple of slices of fresh figs to dip into the light, liquid aero-bubbles coffee-ness. Have a look at the pictures, they are worth a thousand words. Angelo Gimgregorio is the third leg of a hugely professional service. Gordo feels there is something not right about the room, Hassan tells him that they are closing for a refurb in August. This restaurant is class. If you think you know your Italian food and haven’t been here, take the time out to give it a visit. Italianish, Stock ain’t. It’s more authentic than Carluccio himself. Go. (Tip: The lunch table d’hote menu is £13.50 for two courses and £16.50 for three. You have no excuses). Manchester Confidential pays for its own reviews
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Dibs says.." At last, the best restaurant in Manchester gets the praise it deserves! Stock is fantastic. FACT!"
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Caroline, Whalley Range says.." Thank you all for your comments, I must say I am definitely leaning towards Chaophraya now !"
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Queen Bee says.." Maybe so, but they can't suddenly cook any better can they?"
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Phil. says.." Looks like i won't be paying Stock a visit then. "
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I was treated like an imbecile, so I've never been back and never ever recommend the place to anyone.
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