Yu Chinese Restaurant, Alderley Edge: not just for whippets and WAGs

For me, one of life's greatest pleasures is to have a few drinks on a Friday or Saturday night and then go for a banquet at my (pretty good) local Chinese restaurant. When funds are more limited, I am equally happy to pop to my (pretty good) local Chinese takeaway and have a classy sofa picnic in front the telly. In other words, Chinese is not necessarily something I would associate with "fine dining", but more a case of snarfing as many prawn crackers as I can in the shortest possible space of time without making the corners of my mouth sore or getting crumbs on the carpet.

Yu in Alderley Edge is a whole world away from this. It's hidden away behind Piccolino's, with only a small sign alerting you to its presence behind a big wooden door with an ornate knocker that you don't actually have to use (thankfully - I had visions of someone sneering superciliously at me through a spyhole and sending me packing for not being Alderley enough, a very real possibility when I compare myself to the whippet-like girl in tiny dress and monster heels who shows us to our table). The website has no prices on it, a worrying prospect for us out-of-towners and something that, to be honest, would have put me off of booking were I not here to review. In other words, we are suspicious of Yu, and feel we might not belong here.

Actually, we really enjoy it. The decor is bling but beautiful - clusters of blue lights made especially for the restaurant in Egypt hang above each table, making our spot feel both cosy and intimate despite the restaurant being pretty empty on a wet Wednesday night (although they ARE responsible for some interesting shadows in the photos). The manager, Kostas, is friendly, guiding us through the menu (which this time has prices on, some of them eye-wateringly high) before giving up on our indecision and simply choosing for us. We also meet Vinny, one of the two brothers who own and run the restaurant (brother Victor is busy head cheffing in the kitchen) - but more of him and his portable cocktail station later.

We share three starters between us - the soft shell crab special, the duck spring rolls and a portion of sui mai. I'm a sucker for soft shell crab and this is excellent - the batter is light and crisp, the crab satisfyingly chewy and the accompanying crispy noodles a nice foil for the spiciness of the chillies and onions scattered over the top. The spring rolls are each the approximate size of a small bungalow and are packed with dense, gamey meat - in fact, they're almost too meaty, but I consider this amongst the very finest of life's faults, and we enjoy them very much. The sui mai are fine but actually not as good as the (admittedly excellent) ones from my local takeaway.

Next up, we share the restaurant's "signature dish" - Deconstructed Crispy Duck and Pancakes. I imagine this one is likely to divide opinion, with mutterings along the lines of why mess with a classic - and its £28 price tag is pretty hefty even taking into account that this dish takes more than 24 hours to make. I actually rather like that it's a bit different though - you can have crispy duck any time (and I frequently do), so this take on it made a pretty exciting change (and yes, I know I need to get out more). The platter is filled with different ducky parts - thinly sliced breast, shredded dark meat and small curls of crispy skin - along with spring onions and cucumber in Yuzu and a lovely thick Hoi Sin sauce, and we like the fact that you can vary the contents of each pancake (well, in theory you can - we just shove as much of all of it in as we can, a fact made embarrassingly clear by the number of pancakes we have left over).

We are pretty full by this time, and have a short break before sharing another dish as a main - Wok Seared Ribeye with Honey Glazed Satay - and a side of pak choi. The beef dish is a good balance of sweetness from the honey and heat from the chillies, and, like the duck spring rolls, is generous with the meat (although at £31, you wouldn't want anything less). The pak choi is the best I've had, although it cruelly exposes my lack of skill with chop sticks, and the waitress is kind enough to say nothing as she wipes the splatters from the table afterwards.

For dessert, my date goes for the coconut and ginger ice cream (his face visibly drops when the waitress brings two spoons, assuming - correctly - that I won't be able to resist). This is delicious although quite straightforward, and provides a suitably refreshing end to the meal. I am too full for my own pudding and am given something MUCH better instead - Vinny sets up a cocktail tray at our table and whips me up an excellent smoky old fashioned whilst I look on and ponder the fact that this might just be the most exciting thing that has happened to me all year (yes, again - need to get out more). Vinny is apparently keen to get his tray out as often as possible, although I'm guessing that the place is too full of WAGs at the weekend to allow for such theatrics.

Overall, we are impressed, and we agree that we would come again (if only for Vinny and his tray). The food is mostly very good, although some of it IS very expensive and I would order carefully from a menu where the most expensive dish (the Gordon Ramsay-approved Wagyu beef) comes in at £69. Still, any remaining doubts that Yu is a little too pretentious, a little too Cheshire, are expelled by Vinny's offer to make me fishfinger butties next time I go; after all, it's possible to have too much fine-dining.

- Yu is on London Rd, Alderley Edge, Cheshire, SK9 7QD. We did not pay for our meal but that has not affected my review.

Tomfoolery at 34, Alderley Edge: Don't be Fooled by the Fun - this is Fantastic Food

I am not, by nature, an adventurous person, despite my wishes to the contrary. I would dearly love to be the type to spontaneously throw a few items into a bag and find myself in Paris two hours later, but I am not - and thus you shouldn't mock when I say that getting on a train and travelling to Alderley Edge last week was really quite an exciting turn of events. I was off to meet a friend (a seasoned Alderley Edger, adept at identifying various footballing WAGs out and about in their enormous cars) for dinner at Tomfoolery at 34, a new bar/restaurant on the main drag in Alderley headed up by chef Brice Moore, previously of Manchester House, Gidleigh Park (two Michelin stars) and Paul Ainsworth at No 6 in Padstow (one star). With such a pedigree, you'd be forgiven for expecting a grown up, sophisticated type of place, particularly considering its location - one imagines whippet-thin waifs idling delicately with a morsel of beautifully manicured lettuce and perhaps a couple of lightly steamed green beans.

This is quite magnificently not the case. Tomfoolery at 34 is an astonishing place, full of mismatched chairs, and clashing wallpaper, and chandeliers, and upside-down lampshades, and old arcade machines, and Muppets serviettes, and menus just begging to be coloured in with the crayons helpfully provided for that very purpose. It sounds a little contrived, and indeed, I was wary as soon as I saw the rather studiously wacky website - I'm not always keen on things that purport to be "fun", and Tomfoolery looked as if it might be trying just a little too hard. In the flesh, however, it works: the effect is interesting and charming rather than off-putting, and I did find myself colouring in my menu before too much of the evening had passed, pausing every so often to admire my efforts.

It would be a shame if the decor overshadowed the food, so I will say no more about the interior and confirm that the food here is excellent. Everything is handmade in house, using locally sourced ingredients as far as possible, and whilst the menu is limited, this attention to detail and quality was apparent throughout our meal. We started with a dish we hadn't ordered - Brice sent us out the Truffled Baby Carrots from the Sides menu, and we were very glad he did as quite frankly, we'd never had such alluring veg. Tiny, dainty carrots roasted with truffle oil and toasted seeds and then topped with creamy, salty goats' cheese, these were so good that we practically scrapped over the last one, and I'm virtually certain I have never fought over a carrot before. Food at Tomfoolery comes out as and when it's ready, and the two sides we'd ordered as starters came out with our mains, creating a pleasing if impractically large smorgasbord of goodies; I'd have preferred them to come out first, but let's not pretend that I'm not perfectly capable of eating several different courses at once.

The starters/sides in question were the Totally Winging It chicken wings and the half rack of BBQ lamb ribs. The first dish was exemplary, a little bowl of meaty wings in a hot, spicy sauce and then drizzled with a piquant buttermilk and blue cheese dressing, whilst the latter was the only bum note of the whole meal. I'd never had lamb ribs before and would be wary of ordering them again - the taste was rich and hearty, but whilst one of lamb's great joys is the fattiness that creates this flavour, these were fatty to the point of flabbiness. We mentioned this to Brice at the end of the meal; he'd already had similar feedback from other diners and is looking at rectifying the situation.

Mains were excellent. The "Gone Fishin'" burger was my idea of a perfect dish - the meaty piece of delicately cooked cod served in a homemade squid ink bun with deep-fried calamari, salad and red pepper mayo was a great combination of flavours and textures, and I would happily eat it all day long. The "Swayze" burger was similarly well-received - a homemade steak patty served with beef bacon, Emmental cheese, dill pickle, onion, lettuce and tomato. The patty was fat and pink, the in-house sourdough-brioche bun as light as a feather, and we felt that Emmental was an unusual but good choice of cheese as it retained its texture rather than melting into a formless mass. Prices are very reasonable - each of these came served with a very generous portion of fries at £11 and £12 respectively; you can upgrade to Parmesan and truffle fries for an extra £2 (no-one will be surprised to see evidence of said fancy fries alongside my "Gone Fishin'").

We were too full for dessert, which on reflection may have been a mistake; I've since heard great things about their cakes and puddings. We did manage a bottle of truly lovely Jackalberry Sauvignon Blanc, and both agreed we haven't had many nicer £20 restaurant whites; we did have to pour it ourselves from time to time depending on which server was around, but on the whole service was very good throughout the night.

I really hope Tomfoolery wins over the good people of Alderley Edge - it was quietish for a Friday night, and based on my very limited first impressions of Alderley, this is something a little different for the area. They're still finding their feet however, tweaking the menu in response to customer feedback, full of enthusiasm for the new venture, and with a chef at the helm who really knows what he's doing and who has completely the right attitude towards food and cooking. I'm already looking forward to going back for tea and cake...and anyway, I've got some very tricky colouring in to finish.

- Tomfoolery at 34 is at 34 London Road, Alderley Edge, Cheshire SK9 7DZ. We were invited to review and were not asked to pay for dinner or drinks, but we liked it so much we bought drinks in the downstairs bar after our meal.

Amba Restaurant and Bar: Local Girl's Intrepid Adventuring Goes Well-Rewarded

Now, they say that a change is as good as a holiday (or some other such worthy nonsense); I'm far more interested in the rather hurtful claims made by certain individuals that I am somewhat set in my ways, spending my time flitting between favourite haunts in Didsbury and a handful of places in the Northern Quarter, living on nothing but fancy-dan burgers, Aperol spritzes and cocktails served in jam jars. Obviously there is NO TRUTH WHATSOEVER in all of this, but just in case there is, I can offer up clear and incontrovertible proof of my adventuring ways. For last night, I went all the way to Hale.

Now, there is no need to be alarmed here: in recent years I have become most fond of Altrincham, its nearby sister - although we are not currently on speaking terms since the recent (and still painful) closure of the wondrous Brew House bar. Hale itself is smaller, but beautiful - I am already picturing myself decorating an enormous, Victorian-style Christmas tree in the bay window of one of the highly desirable houses that line the streets here; and I would particularly like one on Ashley Road please, as that seems to be where all the restaurants are, including last night's destination: Amba Restaurant and Bar.

First impressions are very, very good: on what is clearly a quiet night in Hale (all the other restaurants we pass are empty, some with waiters in the window sadly eyeing up the deserted streets), Amba is full - literally every table in this welcoming, bustling little place is occupied or has been occupied by the time we leave. Amba is about to celebrate its tenth birthday, and I suspect that the locals are wise to the excellent value set menu, available 6pm - 10pm from Sunday to Friday and offering two courses for £15.50 or three for £18.50. We decide to order off the full a la carte menu (in the interests of thorough research, obviously), and choose the following:

Pre-Starter: yes, yes, I know - I am now at the age where I fear I will NEVER learn my lesson about cramming another course in under pretence of needing time to study the menu; in fact, the whole tenor of this post will revolve around the familiar theme of my eyes being bigger than my stomach. Still, as long as a restaurant offers a dish of mixed vegetable crisps for £1.95, and as long as I have spirit in my soul and breath in my lungs, I will order them. And beat Mr Liz's eager hands with the drinks menu when he tries to share them.

Starters: Now these were good. I had the chicken liver parfait at £5.95, a PROPER parfait, with that perfect texture that is somewhere between artery-stopping richness and light-as-air, whipped softness; when I say that it has a light sheen of meaty sweat on its glistening surface I mean it as the greatest possible compliment. The orange-onion marmalade served on the side is a suitably sweet-yet-tart accompaniment, although the tiny kilner jar it is served in is reluctant to yield up its treasures to my clumsy, giant knife. Mr Liz has a crispy duck salad with pink grapefruit and pomegranate seeds, and considers that the zesty zing of the fruit is a perfect foil for the rich duck in its sweet dressing. Our only criticism is portion size: they are simply enormous, and I am happy to acknowledge that Mr Liz and I are two of the greediest people who ever walked the planet. Yes, it's perhaps better to err on the side of generosity, but I lack self-control and hate leaving food; you may wish to start preparing yourselves for the soon-to-be-unleashed revelation that Mr Liz has to leave some chips from his main course - he has been dreaming of them all night, and is STILL regretting this out-of-character action this morning.

Mains: Speaking of mains, one of the things I liked best about Amba was the seasonal specials section on the menu, clearly ever-changing to reflect what is particuarly fresh and good at any particular moment. From this, I choose the pheasant cooked with sour cherries and served with roast parsnips, kale and celeriac mash, a suitably Autumnal-sounding dish that doesn't disappoint. Pheasant can go a little dry, but this lucky individual is perfectly cooked and served with crispy skin (the best bit) still intact; the sour cherries are a nicely tart touch, although the quantity of meat provided (half a pheasant, methinks) perhaps requires one or two more fruits to really make the most of this classic combination. The star of the dish is the celeriac mash, which seems roughly one part healthy vegetable item to three parts butter and two parts salt: exactly the way I like it, in short. Some would find this too rich, too salty, but for me this kind of mash is a real restaurant treat, as the soullessly wholesome versions I make at home are lucky to see even a splash of skimmed milk. Meanwhile, Mr Liz is embarking upon a plate of steak and chips roughly the size of the Titanic - he has gone for the 280g rib-eye at £22.50, and it is a prime specimen indeed, with that beautiful marbling of fat that makes so much difference to the flavour and texture of this cut. The steak comes with baker chips, mushrooms and tomatoes - no additional side dishes needed here, although the fiery peppercorn sauce he fancies does come as an extra. To our shame and sorrow, though, Mr Liz leaves several of the excellent chips and I even abandon a little of the pheasant - I really feel I have let you all down and these are not the standards of eating you expect from me.

Desserts: but surely you'll try a pudding? cries the lovely lady who has been bringing us these gargantuan dishes, with all the innocent menace of a waiter offering a wafer-thin mint to a dangerously full diner. I am ready to explode, but do manage a spoonful of the shared white chocolate and raspberry creme brulee (I argue weakly for the lighter-sounding fruit and sorbets platter, but Mr Liz is having none of it). This is perhaps a little heavy a choice in view of what we have just eaten, but I like the unusual flavour combination, and the pert raspberries do help to cut through the richness of the white chocolate. We do not drink much with dinner as we have the car with us (yes, I realise that Dora the Explorer would have shown us up here, by finding some way of navigating her way to the far-off terrains of Hale without a motor vehicle), but I do manage to sample the Hendricks Fizz from the new gin cocktail menu and it is sublime; in fact, the drinks options here are impressive full stop, with a wide selection of wines, gins and cocktails as well as Belvoir soft drinks for those remaining compos mentis.

In short? A lovely restaurant, with a menu full of things I'd like to eat, friendly staff and great cocktails. I do think the portions here are on the hefty side, but we perhaps didn't help ourselves by ordering some of the heavier options - I shall certainly try to choose more judiciously next time (for we will certainly come again)...or maybe just ask for a doggy bag, for I could really just fancy some pheasant and chips round about now...

- Amba Restaurant and Bar is at 106 Ashley Road, Hale, Cheshire WA14 2UN; tel 0161 928 2343. We were invited here to review the restaurant and were therefore not asked to pay for our food or drinks, but we will definitely go again as paying customers, even though it is ALL THE WAY AWAY IN HALE.