A Brief Blog in Praise both of Manchester, and the Bank Holiday Weekend

Sunday is a funny old day, isn't it. Not in the sense of its impeccable comic timing, but more in the sense that no-one really quite knows whether they like it or not: on the face of it, it has so much going for it (lie-in, Sunday papers, leisurely breakfast etc etc), and yet it can never quite shake off its association with the dreaded Monday, which looms ever more ominously the later it gets in the day. And if you're foolish enough to be a teacher, you compound your woes for all eternity, essentially ensuring that you will NEVER again be free of that hideous Sunday-night-back-to-school feeling - just the very sound of the music for Antiques Roadshow or Songs of Praise is enough to give me palpitations.

That's why that rare Sunday that falls before a Bank Holiday Monday should be celebrated with such enthusiasm by cramming in as many nice things as possible. This was my tactic yesterday, and although not all the things were as nice as they should have been, here they all are anyway:

1. Castlefield Market. Been meaning to go to this for ages, hearing great things about its mix of artisan foods, vintage clothing, gifts and crafts; sadly, though, it was all a bit of a damp squib. There weren't many stalls there at all, perhaps reflecting the pressure of the market now being a weekly event, or perhaps just the fact that people are away on holiday at the moment. Either way, a disappointing start.

2. Lunch at 3 Twenty One, Deansgate. I like it here - they do great cocktails, the staff are lovely, and I had an excellent value Sunday lunch here a month or so ago. This time, though, I had my head turned by the Chicken Shack - a mighty tower of three crispy breaded chicken burgers served with bacon and cheese as well as various sundries. It looked great, albeit slightly intimidating, and an initial foray uncovered some very good sweet potato fries and nicely crunchy batter on the chicken - a little like a posh KFC, which in my book is no bad thing. However, the chicken inside was a strange beast - thin and on the slimy side, mostly due to the fact that the skin had been left on the meat. It also arrived without the promised onion rings and chicken gravy; I didn't ask for them as I couldn't have eaten them, but still - all a bit disappointing again.

3. Cocktails at The Whim Wham Cafe. When you need to get things back on track, the Whim Wham will never let you down. Two cheeky gin beauties (The Whim Wham Martini and a Jealous Frenzy) with a friend who had thoughtfully come equipped with a buy-one-get-one-free voucher, and my mood had soared. Said friend did then have to abandon me to take part in something called a gay tombola (no - me either), but the day was up and running again and I went off to its main event with joy in my heart.

4. Pop-up bar at Black Jack Brewery. Ideally what you need on a sunny Sunday with no work the next day is some kind of beer festival, and this one may have been small but it was perfectly formed. I'd never heard of Black Jack Brewery before, but they're on Gould Street, just a stone's throw from the venerable Marble Arch pub, and had set up a lovely beery tent in their yard and filled it with furniture largely fashioned from reclaimed brewery equipment. We sat here with the ever lovely Jules and Bailey from Good Gobble blog, and drank beer, and ate pizza from Honest Crust's wood-fired oven, and listened to music, and observed people almost coming to blows over some very competitive table football. In short, it was the kind of thing that Manchester does best - nice people drinking great local beer in a tent and arguing over the shortcomings of some plastic men impaled upon metal rods. I have also developed a worrying fondness for Black Jack lager, suggesting that visits to this part of Manchester may well become more frequent in future.

So after an average start, a lovely day and a worthy part of my new campaign to reclaim Sundays. And at least Countryfile isn't on tonight, so we can all pretend NOT to have work tomorrow either...

Local Girl Won Over by Manchester Bank Holiday Weekend

A couple of years ago now, something happened to me that made me fall out with Manchester. In fact, there was a brief period when, had it been possible, I would have gladly moved to a small cave at the bottom of the sea and been happy never to lay eyes on the Kingdom of Mancunia ever again.

Things change though. Little by little, Manchester has wormed its way back into my good books, rather like the persistent ex-boyfriend who suddenly remembers how to treat you properly after he's messed up one too many times - Manchester knew it had overstepped the mark, and was determined to win back my affections. And win them back it has, in an all-out display of such towering loveliness that I may indeed never consider leaving ever again. In just one Bank Holiday weekend, I was able to do all of this, and the fact that I mostly had to do it all in the rain and cold is but the SMALLEST of niggles.

Saturday:

1. Heaton Moor Market. This super-cute little market has been running for over a year now, tucked away behind the estimable Kro Bar on Shaw Road, but had it not been for Twitter (the font of all knowledge) I would not have even known it existed. Here, I bought some lovely spicy chorizo from Spanish food importers Levanter (who softly strummed on a guitar whilst I browsed), some pork, Stilton and asparagus sausages, and also learned that I am incapable of walking, talking and eating meatballs all at the same time courtesy of Little Bird Catering's amazing travelling meatball stall. You can also buy coffee, cakes, crafts and (presumably) items that do NOT begin with a "c" (causages?); there is also normally a stall selling homemade scotch eggs that are apparently legendary, but - in a stroke of almost insufferable cruelty - he was unable to attend this month. Oh well - I shall just have to go again.

2. Just when you think the day can't get any better, it transpires that a friend (now even more beloved than previously) has won a bottle of El Jimador tequila with all the trimmings at The Yacht Club in a Facebook competition. So yes, the day bed that comes as part of the prize is cold, and drafty, but we are soon sporting luxuriously warm tequila coats, and dancing along with the Mexican band on the deck of this most elegant of bars. And - who knew? - it turns out that tequila slammers can be performed with virtually any fruit or vegetable item, providing one with a healthy, balanced diet even when half-cut.

3. And when your fingers have become so cold they can no longer grasp your cocktail, what better way to warm up than a short skip across Hardman Square to Southern Eleven, a cosy and welcoming place serving outrageously moreish American BBQ in hopelessly generous portions. I'm due to go again for a full review, but suffice to say that I have dreamt of the pulled pork every night ever since, and still regret the small piece of warm cornbread I was forced to leave lest the zip on my dress explode.

Sunday:

Another day, another winner - this time a lucky friend had won two tickets to the North West Spring Wine Festival at St. Peter's in Ancoats, and was looking for a wine-minded companion to accompany her *steps forward, bravely, nobly, tasting glass in hand*. Once over the initial childish thrill of drinking wine in a CHURCH, this was perfection all the way - lovely people, in a beautifully judged venue (not too many exhibitors, not too few - I was content but still standing by the end), and, most importantly, really great wine from a range of brilliant independents. AND Mr Liz picked me up afterwards, thereby saving me the indignity of being tipsy on public transport in the middle of a Sunday afternoon.

Monday:

Now obviously, by this point, the thought of work was beginning to loom large; time for one last hurrah, however, as the award-winning Black Dog Ballroom's new sister bar on New Wakefield Street was offering a tempting 50% off food, and as it was becoming increasingly clear that I had no intention of cooking anything, Mr Liz cried to be allowed to go and was told YES. We perhaps didn't see it at its best - at 12.30 on a cold, wet Bank Holiday it was all but deserted - but this seems a really promising venue.

Tall and thin, the familiar Black Dog pool tables and booths line the lower floor, whilst a flight of stairs leads up to a lighter, airier top floor with a glass roof upon which the rain lashed furiously throughout our visit (indeed, the staff had to rush out and rescue the sofas from the roof terrace, so fierce was the deluge). Still, the food was decent (Mr Liz counted in sheer joy and disbelief the number of different meat items atop his Brucie Bonus pizza), the staff delightful, and the music suitably loud - nothing like a blast of the Foos to remove the last of the Wine Festival fug from your brain.

Would many other places have afforded all this in just one weekend? Manchester, you might just have convinced me to commit to you once again - as long as you keep up the good work, obviously....

Manchester Christmas Markets 2011: Zippy's Back!

Love 'em or hate 'em, the Christmas Markets are now as much a part of the Manchester calendar as the Literature Festival, the Food and Drink Festival, and Mr Liz's annual pilgrimage to the black pudding stall at Bury Market where - if his behaviour for the year is found to bear scrutiny - he is allowed the double thrill of a hot one to eat there and then AND a cold one to take home.

Not everyone loves the Markets, however, and I myself am still pretty much undecided on whether they constitute a Jolly Good Thing or a Bit of a Damp Squib. Let us consider the whole conundrum in a scientific and objective manner for a moment...

Manchester Christmas Markets: Cons

1. Too many people. It's all very well to wake up on a festive morn, full of Christmas cheer and just in the mood to visit the Markets, but what you have not taken into account is that half of Manchester and the surrounding area have woken up with the exact same thought. The Albert Square Market opens at 10am, and if you want to get within a metre or two of ANY of the stalls (except for those one or two forlorn traders who never seem to get any custom at all, with their luridly painted glass and nauseatingly winsome clocks) then you really do have to think about getting there soon after this time. This year, the Markets have apparently been more popular than ever, and so whilst there are more sites than previous years to try to thin out excess traffic, this is still a fearsomely competitive arena - so get those elbows sharpened. If you have a shopping trolley or pram to use as a battering ram, so much the better.

2. The Manchester weather. All those people mean that there is no chance whatsoever of putting up an umbrella without causing serious injury to innocent bystanders. Crisp and clear = excellent Market weather; typical Manchester drizzle = stay at home with Saturday Kitchen.

3. Lack of Variety. There ARE some lovely stalls at the Markets, selling beautiful handmade jewellery, fragrant soaps and body products, cute toys and gifts, and delectable food and drink items. But they don't really change from year to year, nor from site to site - go round Albert Square, walk down Brazennose Street, then back up King Street, and you will have seen more woolly hats with animal faces on than you ever thought possible.

4. That Father Christmas. Now, I am something of a traditionalist when it comes to Christmas, and that includes my choice of Santa: he should be a big, fat, twinkly, rosy-cheeked old gentleman in a red suit - preferably made from a quality velour - and properly sturdy black boots. He should NOT be a strangely startled-looking creature with more than a passing resemblance to (the now sadly deceased) Zippy from Rainbow. This unfortunate individual sits dolefully above the Market in Albert Square and, frankly, frightens me more than just a little - he most certainly is not welcome down my chimney this Christmas.

5. Finishing before actual Christmas. Every year the Markets pack up and move on a few days before Christmas - this year they end on Wednesday 21st December, forcing hapless men across Manchester to do their last-minute panic Christmas Eve shop elsewhere. Selfish, just selfish.

Manchester Christmas Markets: Pros

1. Interesting alcohol at any time of day. Obviously, it's the law to drink as much mulled wine during the month of December as humanly possible, but the Markets have introduced a hitherto unknown treat to me - hot chocolate with a dash of brandy, covered with squirty cream. If you have followed my advice about getting to the Markets early, I can confirm that these taste excellent at any time from 10.30am onwards.

2. Pig in a Bun. Clearly, the concept of pig-in-a-bun is a sound one at any time of the year, but there is nothing better than the soft white roll filled to bursting with chunks of pork, stuffing and apple sauce served up at the Christmas Market. And once you've mastered the art of consuming it in a graceful manner, standing up, trying to maintain a vestige of lipgloss, wedged between 2,000 other people also eating Pig Buns, you'll have learnt a skill to be proud of.

3. It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas. Truth be told, the rigorous academic debate so strenuously explored above is completely irrelevant, pleasingly intellectual as it is: I go to the Christmas Markets EVERY year, and will continue to do so forever more, just because a trip to Albert Square to get pushed, and squashed, and trampled, and pay a £2 deposit for a mug that will eventually join the 27 identical ones in your kitchen cupboard, means that IT'S CHRISTMAS. So, unpack your straw reindeer with pride, for now it's time to pour yourself a small sherry and watch It's A Wonderful Life, secure in the knowledge that everything is how it should be.

- for more information on the Manchester Christmas Markets, visit the Manchester City Council website; you can even catch a little glimpse of Zippy Christmas...

Triumphant Inaugural West Didsbury Market

Well, it was bound to happen - a week of unfeasibly glorious weather, viewed grudgingly through the windows of a classroom in which resentful, underdressed students are forcibly penned - and come the weekend, come the first West Didsbury Market, it was bound to go a bit cold and rubbish. But no matter; my feet were pleased to be safely back in their cosy FitFlop boots after last night's gladiator sandal experiment, and the return of more typical British weather conditions meant that large quantities of calorific food products could be purchased at the market without qualm, as a nice layer of winter fat is clearly still advisable.

The West Didsbury Market is going to take place on the last Saturday of every month, and has found itself an ideal home in front of the Withington Community Hospital - plenty of parking, plenty of space, and no issues with being accidentally run over while eating a pie. Now my fingers have defrosted sufficiently to type, here are the highlights of a splendid day...

First stop, the meat-laden stall of The Artisan Meat Company, where the lovely Paul tempted us with his succulent sausages and beautiful bacon. Tragically, he had so many flavours to offer us that we were forced to sample an array of sausagey titbits before choosing which to buy; indeed, next time Mr Liz wants me to take a larger handbag so that I may scoop a load in while he distracts the stall-holders by performing handstands and cartwheels.

Next stop, lunch. Mr Liz went for a steak and ale pie from the winningly-named Pie Guys, while I went for a bowl of mixed goodness from the Pinchjo's stall. If you've visted Joe's Burton Road tapas bar then you'll already know how good his food is, and this was no exception - salad, rice, chickpeas with spinach and chicken all in a bowl so generously laden that a lurking boy (who had already, let us not forget, snaffled a pie) was forced to finish it off.

Then, we bought cheese (as is the actual law at these type of markets), but I have been remiss and not noted the name of the stall we purchased from. I am going to guess, and say it was "Mr Cheesy's Cheese Emporium", purely because this is what I would like the stall to have been called. In my defence, I can claim to have been distracted as by this time Mark Hackett, Lord Mayor of Manchester, had arrived to officially open the event, and I wished to find out whether the rumours about him being presented with a cake bearing his face were true.

They weren't. Instead, the cake - rustled up, I believe, by the good people of Silver Apples - carried an image of the beautiful West Didsbury mosaic created by Amanda McCrann for WestFest2010. Rather ironically, Amanda was about the only person not to get a piece of the cake that bore her design, as it was carefully sliced before her very nose and then whisked away to be given to other, non-mosaic designing folk.

And finally, speaking of cake, no food market would be complete without a visit to a cupcake stall. We were lured by the sensibly-priced wares of The Butterfly Cupcakery, which had nearly sold out despite having started the day with 300 cakes. Before you start pointing the finger, I can confirm I only bought two of them - we had the last chocolate and mint ones, and very nice they were too.

We left just as Busker's Corner was getting into full swing (a coincidence, I promise), and I can only imagine how delightful this event is going to be in the (hopefully) balmy days of summer.

New Farmers' Market for West Didsbury

Last night, in a fit of intellectual fervour, I watched a highbrow, arty film entitled "Confessions of a Shopaholic" (look, it WAS Friday night) and came to the conclusion that my own shopping habits are entirely under control. In fact, I started to wonder if I am not a little too virtuous, and should perhaps try to spend more money in the noble pursuit of rampant consumerism.

To that end, I am delighted to note that West Didsbury has been added to the list of locations hosting a monthly Manchester Street Market, thereby providing an excellent opportunity to purchase fresh, wholesome goods from cheery-faced independent retailers. Of course, what this actually means in practice is that I shall continue to do my weekly shop at evil food giant Sainsbury's, AND flirt with boxes from both Riverford and Abel and Cole, AND then shop at the Food Market as well, doubling my comestibles expenditure but having a fridge full of unnecessary but very lovely items as consolation. And this matters not a jot, for I have seen the Shopaholic film, and know that I am all that is good and restrained in this world.

The West Didsbury Market will take place on the last Saturday of every month on Nell Lane, in front of the Withington Community Hospital, and promises to sell the same enticing mix of foods and crafts as the existing fleet of Street Markets. The full line-up now allows lucky South Manchester-ites to trough virtually round the clock, and is as follows:
Northenden 1st Saturday Palatine Road, M22 4DH
Withington 2nd Saturday Copson Street, M20 3BG
Chorlton 3rd Saturday Manchester Road, M21 9PN
Levenshulme 4th Friday Stockport Road, M19 3AD
West Didsbury 4th Saturday Nell Lane, M20 2RL

If you're out and about in central Manchester, don't forget the original Manchester Markets' Real Food Market, which takes place in Piccadilly Gardens on the second and fourth Fridays and Saturdays of every month. A word of warning though - plan your shopping visit very carefully. I once left a bag of exceedingly stinky cheese in the changing rooms at TopShop after a visit to the market; just try handling the embarrassment of having to go back and explain that, yes, the bag that smells of feet does belong to you...

More details about Manchester's Markets can be found on the website (any panicky, disorganised men should go there immediately and take note of the Valentine's Market taking place today), and for all the latest on the new West Didsbury Market - which begins next month - check out the wise folk at Didsbury Life.