At first, you would be forgiven for thinking that, in this household at least, Friday 29th April 2011 was just any old day. Mr Liz duly brought me a nice cup of tea in bed and rushed downstairs to commandeer the tellybox so that he might pretend to be some kind of fierce sandal-wearing warrior on the trail of some dragon, or bad man, or monkey, or something. I lay in bed, and read an intellectual book about vampires. And then, I remembered.
Seconds later, Mr Liz had been forcibly removed from televisual control, and found himself watching, aghast, as a parade of overdressed toffs and celebrities began to shimmy across the screen. A stream of text messages - "Oh my God! Posh is wearing NAVY" - announced that my fellow wedding-watcher was on her way, armed with pink wine and good shoes. Normal service resumed - Mr Liz driven out of his own living room by presence of wildly over-excited, squawking women - we sat back to enjoy the following schedule:
10am: watching the guests arrive, commenting chiefly on Tara's nose, Posh's teepee and Elton's girth. Perusal of Grazia during dull moments or those featuring Fearne Cotton.
11am: the ceremony. We like the dress, but note that Pippa's maid of honour outfit is remarkably similar to my own wedding dress although, presumably, not purchased from Monsoon. We have a cup of tea and plan to watch the whole ceremony.
11.15: some religious people start doing long readings so we open the pink wine and embark on a sterling sofa picnic - olives, pork pies, crisps, pate and crackers. Somehow, the food and the drink complement each other so perfectly that no-one really notices that the sun is not even approaching the yard-arm. We enjoy how Kate keeps her face looking interested throughout the duration of the ceremony while William is repeatedly caught on camera looking bored - presumably because he doesn't have any pink wine to take the edge off it all.
1.30: I predict that Wills and Kate will kiss twice on the balcony, and am correct. We also enjoy the tiny bridemaid refusing to remove her hands from over her ears or the look of total disgust from her face.
2pm: time to actually leave the house. The long and arduous walk to Didsbury is broken up with a pitstop in the beautiful Airy Fairy Cake Boutique on School Lane, where Laura sells us cupcakes that have pictures of Kate and William on. I should probably mention that at this point I am sporting my wedding tiara, which I have been looking for an excuse to wear for the last seven years; I am under the impression that I look a little like a bride, or a princess, or possibly both.
3.30pm: drinks at The Didsbury. We sit outside and drink Prosecco, and have by this stage been joined by two boys who claim to have no interest whatsoever in the wedding, and yet find they can manage to sit outside a pub drinking beer.
5pm: drinks at The Sanctuary. This place is much improved since its Varsity days, and was very sportingly offering jugs of Pimms for £7.99 a go. We sit in a lovely squashy old sofa and find to our horror that the boys are now embracing the spirit of the occasion and wish to share our Pimms. Cunning friend contrives to pour large quantities of ice-cubes into their waiting glasses rather than much actual Pimms, thus reminding me of one of the key reasons I spend so much time with her.
7pm: it would seem that people who eat their lunch at 11.15 are quite terrifyingly hungry by the early evening, and are forced to accept that eating the cucumber slices from the Pimms jug is no longer sufficient. We choose The Laughing Buddha, a Chinese restaurant that we have never tried before, and are most impressed - we order Banquet C and plough our way through assorted deep-fried starters, hot and sour soup, crispy duck and four main courses (one of which - the Mongolian Lamb - had to be packaged up for taking home lest we actually burst on the premises.) The food is consistently good, and I give it a score of 7.8, docking points largely because the duck was a tiny bit dry, and they gave too much food to people who clearly couldn't say no.
9.30: we walk home our separate ways, and I am in bed at a profoundly sensible hour. If it wasn't likely to bankrupt both the country and me personally, I would suggest one of these Royal Wedding larks at least once a year, possibly more often depending on availability of appropriate personnel.
Showing posts with label The Didsbury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Didsbury. Show all posts
Saturday, 30 April 2011
Thursday, 21 April 2011
Sad Times (but Decent Starters) as Mr J Departs The Didsbury
Anyone who has lived in South Manchester for a considerable period of time is likely to have been to The Didsbury Pub. Set behind its own green towards the East Didsbury end of Wilmslow Road, my first brush with the mighty Didsbury was no doubt in the 1990s as part of a series of deeply unwise "Didsbury Dozen" pub crawls - or thirteen pints in thirteen pubs for the uninitiated. As students we cursed its aloofness, set away as it was from the other pubs and therefore requiring us to WALK, ooh, probably several hundred yards to get back to the main drag; I now realise that this short enforced walk is probably the sole reason I survived ANY Didsbury Dozens at all and live to tell the tale *puts on stern, anti-drink face*
Anyway, as I grew up, so did The Didsbury - or perhaps it was always grown-up and I was just too drunk and over-excited to notice the horrified expressions of the other patrons as I rampaged the premises looking for whatever clue the Maths department had left for their fellow Didsbury Dozeners (they were ALWAYS organised by the Maths students - you really do have to watch the quiet ones.) And then for some reason, I stopped going as often; perhaps newer, shinier places opened up and turned my shallow and superficial preferences away from a pub that was perhaps starting to look a bit tired, a bit...dull.
But then seven years ago, a genial host by the name of Paul Johnson took over, and The Didsbury began to be fun again. As well as being a general all-round top bloke, Mr J is that most rare of things - a pub manager who actually listens to his customers. One staggering summer, he stocked Prosecco by the glass, BECAUSE I ASKED HIM TO. True, I think I was the only one that ever actually ordered it, but then I never claimed to be a businesswoman, and I did gamely try to drink as much of it as I could (ALWAYS helpful, ALWAYS selfless, that's me.) Paul is also a constant presence on Twitter, making the most of social networking's insidious ability to make a sensible girl turn bad - it's a canny manager who tweets about the lovely weather in his beer garden just as an otherwise pure, clean-living sort of girl is leaving work after a hard day.
In short, The Didsbury is now at the heart of the village again, always bustling with cheerful souls having a drink outside or cosying up inside with some of the good-value food. But now, the skies have darkened and the storm clouds are gathering, for Mr J is off to pastures new. In just a few weeks he will be taking over at The Axe & Cleaver in Dunham Massey, a fact that makes me so maudlin that I am tempted to produce a small violin right now and play a mournful solo in his honour. He has made it clear that whilst it's not his decision to leave The Didsbury (should think not!) he is pleased with the pub and the area that he's off to, and promises us that we will always be just as welcome there as at The Didsbury.
After such heart-felt sorrow, it seems a little trite now to review the meal that Mr Liz and I consumed there last night in the company of the ever-fragrant Didsbury Life. So, I will summarise.
Starters: excellent. Meze platter for the "ladies" (no sniggering at the back), chicken skewers for Mr Liz, chicken & honey pate for Mr D-L. All very good, although husband, I notice, quick to finish chicken skewers and start on nearest available dish, namely my meze platter.
Mains: mixed. My barbecue pork shanks with sweet potato chips were fine, as was Mr D-L's salmon. Mr Liz proclaimed the steak in his mixed grill a little chewy (although I noticed he ate every last scrap) but he enjoyed everything else. The only dish that really let us down was the sea bass with herb risotto, offering rice that you could plaster your walls with and fish that, in an emergency, you could resole your shoes with (there's a joke there actually, but I am too classy to stoop so low - you may go there if you wish.)
Puds: again, mixed. The boys ate their choices with enthusiasm (one x boozy mocha ice-cream cake, one x sticky toffee pudding), but the ladies fared less well with their slim-line choices of, ahem, a chocolate brownie and a piece of cheesecake. In truth, the portion sizes here seem to have got a little large, and if someone as greedy as me couldn't eat all her brownie, you may confidently surmise that it was probably big enough to have been laid as the foundation stone in a new-build property of your choice.
Luckily, all this greed was negated by the ten-minute stroll home, after another convivial evening. One can only cry a little at the thought of how many calories the walk home from Dunham Massey will be burning off in a couple of months time...
Good luck in your new venture Mr J; everyone here in Didsbury will miss you.
Anyway, as I grew up, so did The Didsbury - or perhaps it was always grown-up and I was just too drunk and over-excited to notice the horrified expressions of the other patrons as I rampaged the premises looking for whatever clue the Maths department had left for their fellow Didsbury Dozeners (they were ALWAYS organised by the Maths students - you really do have to watch the quiet ones.) And then for some reason, I stopped going as often; perhaps newer, shinier places opened up and turned my shallow and superficial preferences away from a pub that was perhaps starting to look a bit tired, a bit...dull.
But then seven years ago, a genial host by the name of Paul Johnson took over, and The Didsbury began to be fun again. As well as being a general all-round top bloke, Mr J is that most rare of things - a pub manager who actually listens to his customers. One staggering summer, he stocked Prosecco by the glass, BECAUSE I ASKED HIM TO. True, I think I was the only one that ever actually ordered it, but then I never claimed to be a businesswoman, and I did gamely try to drink as much of it as I could (ALWAYS helpful, ALWAYS selfless, that's me.) Paul is also a constant presence on Twitter, making the most of social networking's insidious ability to make a sensible girl turn bad - it's a canny manager who tweets about the lovely weather in his beer garden just as an otherwise pure, clean-living sort of girl is leaving work after a hard day.
In short, The Didsbury is now at the heart of the village again, always bustling with cheerful souls having a drink outside or cosying up inside with some of the good-value food. But now, the skies have darkened and the storm clouds are gathering, for Mr J is off to pastures new. In just a few weeks he will be taking over at The Axe & Cleaver in Dunham Massey, a fact that makes me so maudlin that I am tempted to produce a small violin right now and play a mournful solo in his honour. He has made it clear that whilst it's not his decision to leave The Didsbury (should think not!) he is pleased with the pub and the area that he's off to, and promises us that we will always be just as welcome there as at The Didsbury.
After such heart-felt sorrow, it seems a little trite now to review the meal that Mr Liz and I consumed there last night in the company of the ever-fragrant Didsbury Life. So, I will summarise.
Starters: excellent. Meze platter for the "ladies" (no sniggering at the back), chicken skewers for Mr Liz, chicken & honey pate for Mr D-L. All very good, although husband, I notice, quick to finish chicken skewers and start on nearest available dish, namely my meze platter.
Mains: mixed. My barbecue pork shanks with sweet potato chips were fine, as was Mr D-L's salmon. Mr Liz proclaimed the steak in his mixed grill a little chewy (although I noticed he ate every last scrap) but he enjoyed everything else. The only dish that really let us down was the sea bass with herb risotto, offering rice that you could plaster your walls with and fish that, in an emergency, you could resole your shoes with (there's a joke there actually, but I am too classy to stoop so low - you may go there if you wish.)
Puds: again, mixed. The boys ate their choices with enthusiasm (one x boozy mocha ice-cream cake, one x sticky toffee pudding), but the ladies fared less well with their slim-line choices of, ahem, a chocolate brownie and a piece of cheesecake. In truth, the portion sizes here seem to have got a little large, and if someone as greedy as me couldn't eat all her brownie, you may confidently surmise that it was probably big enough to have been laid as the foundation stone in a new-build property of your choice.
Luckily, all this greed was negated by the ten-minute stroll home, after another convivial evening. One can only cry a little at the thought of how many calories the walk home from Dunham Massey will be burning off in a couple of months time...
Good luck in your new venture Mr J; everyone here in Didsbury will miss you.
Thursday, 24 February 2011
Half Term Gluttony at The Didsbury and The Mark Addy Gourmet Evening
Yesterday, I learnt several valuable lessons; well, at least I would have done, were I the sort of person who actually heeds valuable lessons rather than forgetting them instantly and making very similar mistakes all over again. These are the important life lessons I have gleaned from just one day of foolish and inappropriate behaviour:
1. It is never a good look to be hanging around outside a pub, in the rain, waiting for it to open. This may be acceptable when you are a student, but less so when you are two sophisticated ladies of the highest order, one of whom even has children named after literary heroines rather than something really classy like the place they were conceived. So do be warned that if you plan to meet a friend at The Didsbury for an early lunch, don't arrive even microscopically early, as you will be forced to beat hopefully on the door like a raging alkie.
2. If you know that it's the last Wednesday of the month, and that you will therefore be attending Gourmet Evening at The Mark Addy later on that evening, you should not be going out for lunch in the first place. Nor should you eat those two slices of bread at about six o'clock: it DOESN'T MATTER that the bread came free with your Abel and Cole box that morning, and that it is the nicest bread known to mankind, milled by tiny pixies in their fairy workshop. Appparently - apparently - organic bread is actually just as fattening as normal bread, although I am still reluctant to believe this.
3. Yes, the Chloe jeans look good NOW. But will you still be quite such a slink-pot after eating six courses of Robert Owen Brown's finest? No, you will not - you will be complaining lavishly, and trying to surreptitiously undo your top button in the car on the way home.
4. Just because you run into Ben Cahoona in The Mark Addy doesn't mean that he will have pockets full of spare Manchester Eggs - the hunt for these elusive creatures goes on, much to Mr Liz's chagrin.
5. And finally, the most important lesson of all - and one that I shall definitely continue to heed, Gourmet Evening at The Addy remains the single most exciting thing that ever happened on a Wednesday. This is what I ate last night:
- Warm Goose Liver Cream Shooter: this first dish really tells you all you need to know about last night's menu. As it was chef Robert Owen Brown's birthday, he had made things he himself would like to eat; in other words, the kind of food that causes your arteries to fur over before you've even finished reading the menu.
- Wild Mushroom Bun: a pastry case filled with mushrooms (healthy) and - yep - cream (less healthy). There certainly wasn't "mushroom" in the pastry case for anything else! *smirks at own wit whilst ignoring piece of tumbleweed blowing across room*
- Lancashire Coast Rag Pudding: I had never heard of rag pudding, despite it apparently hailing from Oldham. As the third course is always the fish course, ROB had replaced the traditional meat filling in this suet pastry with fish and served it with *checks heartbeat for any suspicious irregularities* a cream sauce.
- Lavender and Hay Baked Mutton: a ROB special, wheeled out and carved in front of our eager eyes, and then served with roasted artichokes. I am only exaggerating very slightly when I say that I had FIFTY EIGHT helpings of this, and am not exaggerating at all (sadly) when I say that Mr Liz had three (small) pieces of artichoke and I had all the rest. Jeans too tight by this point.
- Vanilla Cream with Poached Forced Rhubarb: you will notice the presence of cream once more, and for anyone who is worried about the lack of pastry in this course, I can reassure you that ROB is thankfully the sort of man who serves his vanilla cream in a pastry case in the interests of providing a full range of nutrients and food groups. I did have to explain to Mr Liz that "forced" rhubarb is simply rhubarb that has been grown indoors, rather than a cruel practice involving the exploitation of helpless, weeping rhubarb sticks crying "no! I don't want to! Please don't make me!" *quickly eats noisy whiny rhubarb*
- A Selection of Regional Cheeses: I have a confession to make. A combination of the 6pm bread error and the frankly out-of-control greed prompted by the mutton course left me unable to eat the cheese. This has never happened to me before, and I know that I've let you down. Fear not, however - said cheese is currently reposing comfortably in a foil doggy bag in the kitchen, and will be consumed for lunch in a bid to make all right again.
The next Gourmet Evening is on Wednesday 30th March; if you've learned any kind of lesson at all from my wise words, clearly you should ensure you are there.
1. It is never a good look to be hanging around outside a pub, in the rain, waiting for it to open. This may be acceptable when you are a student, but less so when you are two sophisticated ladies of the highest order, one of whom even has children named after literary heroines rather than something really classy like the place they were conceived. So do be warned that if you plan to meet a friend at The Didsbury for an early lunch, don't arrive even microscopically early, as you will be forced to beat hopefully on the door like a raging alkie.
2. If you know that it's the last Wednesday of the month, and that you will therefore be attending Gourmet Evening at The Mark Addy later on that evening, you should not be going out for lunch in the first place. Nor should you eat those two slices of bread at about six o'clock: it DOESN'T MATTER that the bread came free with your Abel and Cole box that morning, and that it is the nicest bread known to mankind, milled by tiny pixies in their fairy workshop. Appparently - apparently - organic bread is actually just as fattening as normal bread, although I am still reluctant to believe this.
3. Yes, the Chloe jeans look good NOW. But will you still be quite such a slink-pot after eating six courses of Robert Owen Brown's finest? No, you will not - you will be complaining lavishly, and trying to surreptitiously undo your top button in the car on the way home.
4. Just because you run into Ben Cahoona in The Mark Addy doesn't mean that he will have pockets full of spare Manchester Eggs - the hunt for these elusive creatures goes on, much to Mr Liz's chagrin.
5. And finally, the most important lesson of all - and one that I shall definitely continue to heed, Gourmet Evening at The Addy remains the single most exciting thing that ever happened on a Wednesday. This is what I ate last night:
- Warm Goose Liver Cream Shooter: this first dish really tells you all you need to know about last night's menu. As it was chef Robert Owen Brown's birthday, he had made things he himself would like to eat; in other words, the kind of food that causes your arteries to fur over before you've even finished reading the menu.
- Wild Mushroom Bun: a pastry case filled with mushrooms (healthy) and - yep - cream (less healthy). There certainly wasn't "mushroom" in the pastry case for anything else! *smirks at own wit whilst ignoring piece of tumbleweed blowing across room*
- Lancashire Coast Rag Pudding: I had never heard of rag pudding, despite it apparently hailing from Oldham. As the third course is always the fish course, ROB had replaced the traditional meat filling in this suet pastry with fish and served it with *checks heartbeat for any suspicious irregularities* a cream sauce.
- Lavender and Hay Baked Mutton: a ROB special, wheeled out and carved in front of our eager eyes, and then served with roasted artichokes. I am only exaggerating very slightly when I say that I had FIFTY EIGHT helpings of this, and am not exaggerating at all (sadly) when I say that Mr Liz had three (small) pieces of artichoke and I had all the rest. Jeans too tight by this point.
- Vanilla Cream with Poached Forced Rhubarb: you will notice the presence of cream once more, and for anyone who is worried about the lack of pastry in this course, I can reassure you that ROB is thankfully the sort of man who serves his vanilla cream in a pastry case in the interests of providing a full range of nutrients and food groups. I did have to explain to Mr Liz that "forced" rhubarb is simply rhubarb that has been grown indoors, rather than a cruel practice involving the exploitation of helpless, weeping rhubarb sticks crying "no! I don't want to! Please don't make me!" *quickly eats noisy whiny rhubarb*
- A Selection of Regional Cheeses: I have a confession to make. A combination of the 6pm bread error and the frankly out-of-control greed prompted by the mutton course left me unable to eat the cheese. This has never happened to me before, and I know that I've let you down. Fear not, however - said cheese is currently reposing comfortably in a foil doggy bag in the kitchen, and will be consumed for lunch in a bid to make all right again.
The next Gourmet Evening is on Wednesday 30th March; if you've learned any kind of lesson at all from my wise words, clearly you should ensure you are there.
Monday, 21 February 2011
Cask Ale Festival and St Patrick's Day Celebrations at The Didsbury
On the table in our living room lies a small brochure, a seemingly unassuming, unprepossessing little affair which we picked up in The Didsbury last week. Yet do not be fooled by its modest exterior; indeed, so momentous are its contents that every so often Mr Liz is forced to pick it up, caress the cover, and check that the words inside still send the same, joyous message. For the Chef & Brewer "This Season" booklet contains the following boy-friendly information:
1. This year's Cask Festival runs until Tuesday 29th March, offering thirsty punters the chance to try a selection of ales from around the country. The line-up changes every week; this is week two, so while the bad news is that some of you will have irretrievably missed out on week one, the good news is that you may be able to get your hands on Black Sheep Best Bitter (not specified in the brochure but undoubtedly made from real sheep), Everards Tiger Best Bitter (brewed from actual Tiggers - not bouncing now, eh?) or Caledonian Over the Bar (made from, oh, er, Scottish things.)
This is obviously a stellar array of beery talent, and I can identify only two possible flies in the ointment (Flies in the Ointment Best Bitter...now there's a thought...) Firstly, a tearful Mr Liz has already discovered that not all the beers are on when they should be, and secondly - and more importantly - I don't really like cask ale. However, as The Didsbury will provide gallant ladies with a large glass of very nice house red for £3.75 I will kindly agree to tag along.
2. After the success of the Burns' Night Supper, we're off to fly the flag for St Patrick, patron saint of Ireland, yes, but more famously the patron saint of Guinness and frankly drinking more than is good for you and running about Didsbury in a giant leprechaun-style felt hat. The St Patrick's Day taster evening is available between Sunday 13th and Tuesday 15th March, and promises the following for just £17.99 per person:
- Oven baked salmon with whiskey cream sauce
- Seared scallops with pan-fried white pudding and garden pea puree
- Irish Beef & Stout Pie (I assume the latter refers to its alcohol content rather than the pie's portly frame) served with colcannon
- Lime meringue pie
- Irish Coffee
You can even pretend it's not a school night and add a bottle of wine for just eight quid if you're not convinced that there's quite enough alcohol in the menu already.
Full details of both events can be found on The Didsbury's website; or, you could pop in and pick up a copy of the brochure for yourself - I'm trying to convince Mr Liz that looking at the pictures of beer in the booklet is almost as good as going out and actually drinking them...
1. This year's Cask Festival runs until Tuesday 29th March, offering thirsty punters the chance to try a selection of ales from around the country. The line-up changes every week; this is week two, so while the bad news is that some of you will have irretrievably missed out on week one, the good news is that you may be able to get your hands on Black Sheep Best Bitter (not specified in the brochure but undoubtedly made from real sheep), Everards Tiger Best Bitter (brewed from actual Tiggers - not bouncing now, eh?) or Caledonian Over the Bar (made from, oh, er, Scottish things.)
This is obviously a stellar array of beery talent, and I can identify only two possible flies in the ointment (Flies in the Ointment Best Bitter...now there's a thought...) Firstly, a tearful Mr Liz has already discovered that not all the beers are on when they should be, and secondly - and more importantly - I don't really like cask ale. However, as The Didsbury will provide gallant ladies with a large glass of very nice house red for £3.75 I will kindly agree to tag along.
2. After the success of the Burns' Night Supper, we're off to fly the flag for St Patrick, patron saint of Ireland, yes, but more famously the patron saint of Guinness and frankly drinking more than is good for you and running about Didsbury in a giant leprechaun-style felt hat. The St Patrick's Day taster evening is available between Sunday 13th and Tuesday 15th March, and promises the following for just £17.99 per person:
- Oven baked salmon with whiskey cream sauce
- Seared scallops with pan-fried white pudding and garden pea puree
- Irish Beef & Stout Pie (I assume the latter refers to its alcohol content rather than the pie's portly frame) served with colcannon
- Lime meringue pie
- Irish Coffee
You can even pretend it's not a school night and add a bottle of wine for just eight quid if you're not convinced that there's quite enough alcohol in the menu already.
Full details of both events can be found on The Didsbury's website; or, you could pop in and pick up a copy of the brochure for yourself - I'm trying to convince Mr Liz that looking at the pictures of beer in the booklet is almost as good as going out and actually drinking them...
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Curry Night at The Didsbury
Obviously, a CPD - Continuing Professional Development - day provides the chance for the sharing of ideas and good practice, and the discussion of effective strategies for future improvement. It also provides a day off timetable, thereby opening up a hitherto unavailable treat: Thursday Curry Night at The Didsbury. As you no doubt already know, I am a principled soul, and one of my unwavering tenets is not to eat curry on a school night, on the basis that I am partial to garlic naan and it's simply not fair to inflict that upon any student who may rashly summon me over to check their work the following morning.
Mr Liz has for some time been looking sorrowfully at the menu for Curry Night, with the air of a man who has undergone great hardship and suffering in a cruel, unfeeling world. So he was most keen to exploit the chance to finally give it a try; indeed, the speed with which he selected his chosen dishes from the aforementioned menu suggested that he had already mentally pre-ordered, many times, just in case the opportunity should ever arise. The way it works is this: for £9.99 each, you may choose two small curries from the menu, which are then served with rice, naan and two onion bhaji, as well as a drink (wine, Cobra or - Mr Liz scoffed at this - a soft drink.)
I chose Butternut Squash Dhansak and Achari Chicken for my two dishes, while my husband went for Beef Curry and - he can't help copying me - Achari Chicken. All the curries were good, and although the dishes looked small when they arrived we found that they were actually very filling - I was forced to leave most of my naan, and this fact, in conjunction with one of my curries being made of actual vegetables, probably means I actually lost a little weight over the course of the evening (what with the walk to and from the car and everything.)
I am still generally sceptical about the whole concept of eating curry in a pub, particularly in an area that is so well served with amazingly good curry houses. Yet Curry Night does offer very good value for money in nicely convivial surroundings, and the number of people partaking of the offer (on a school night! a school night!) suggests that many others agree. More details on The Didsbury's website; you won't see me there on a Thursday for a while, but I do suspect Mr Liz is already checking my diary for my next CPD day...
Mr Liz has for some time been looking sorrowfully at the menu for Curry Night, with the air of a man who has undergone great hardship and suffering in a cruel, unfeeling world. So he was most keen to exploit the chance to finally give it a try; indeed, the speed with which he selected his chosen dishes from the aforementioned menu suggested that he had already mentally pre-ordered, many times, just in case the opportunity should ever arise. The way it works is this: for £9.99 each, you may choose two small curries from the menu, which are then served with rice, naan and two onion bhaji, as well as a drink (wine, Cobra or - Mr Liz scoffed at this - a soft drink.)
I chose Butternut Squash Dhansak and Achari Chicken for my two dishes, while my husband went for Beef Curry and - he can't help copying me - Achari Chicken. All the curries were good, and although the dishes looked small when they arrived we found that they were actually very filling - I was forced to leave most of my naan, and this fact, in conjunction with one of my curries being made of actual vegetables, probably means I actually lost a little weight over the course of the evening (what with the walk to and from the car and everything.)
I am still generally sceptical about the whole concept of eating curry in a pub, particularly in an area that is so well served with amazingly good curry houses. Yet Curry Night does offer very good value for money in nicely convivial surroundings, and the number of people partaking of the offer (on a school night! a school night!) suggests that many others agree. More details on The Didsbury's website; you won't see me there on a Thursday for a while, but I do suspect Mr Liz is already checking my diary for my next CPD day...
Saturday, 22 January 2011
Accidental Lunch at The Didsbury Yields Unexpected Pie Triumph
I think it can be generally agreed that shopping is a tiring business. Not only do you have to walk from your house to the car, and then from the carpark to the shops, but factor in that you are wearing FitFlop boots and have purchased three pairs of Office shoes and two bottles of pink champagne that your husband refuses to carry, and you are pretty much looking at full-on exhaustion.
Thus it was that we accidentally ended up stopping off at The Didsbury for lunch on the way home; it just looked so inviting, and as I was by now dangerously thin from carrying the heavy bags etc it made sense to call in for an enormous meal. The Didsbury is always busy, and our visit didn't get off to the most auspicious start - we waited for five minutes to be seated as a number of staff ran around with plates, resolutely ignoring us, and then were sent to the least desirable table in the whole place.
Spotting that a tantrum was fast approaching, Mr Liz quickly distracted me with the menu, and more specifically the excellent value lunch deal, and then indeed all was well. Monday to Saturday, between 12 and 5pm, you can choose from selected main dishes priced between £4.99 and £6.49, and then pick a starter or dessert for just £2; otherwise I would never have had a starter - I am due at a dinner party in a shade over three hours and currently feel like a wafer thin mint would tip me over the edge.
Still, at £2 a throw it would be rude not to, so I had the chicken and honey pate and Mr Liz went for the stilton mushrooms; both were delicious, with a tell-tale blob of stilton, cream and peppercorn sauce remaining in the centre of the table throughout our meal as sadly incontrovertible evidence of my mushroom thievery. This being The Didsbury, portion control had gone wildy awry, with generous piles of light-as-a-feather toast meaning that I was more or less full by the time the waitress removed our plates (with barely a glance at the greedy-girl mushroom splodge - very professional.)
Luckily I had only ordered a modest, low-fat main course. Oh no, wait, I've actually ordered the world's biggest plate of food - steak and ale pie with chips, veg and gravy. Now, my husband reckons himself something of a pie expert, hailing as he does from up near Wigan; indeed, he asked that he be referred to in this post as a "pie witness", with a smirk on his face that suggested he was most pleased with this rather lame witticism. He proclaimed The Didsbury pie a triumph - a proper, free-standing, pastry-all-the-way-round-none-of-this-pie-in-a-pot-with-just-pastry-on-the-top nonsense, and filled with a richly unctious mix of tender meat and sticky gravy. You can also tell a lot about a pub by the quality of its vegetables, many of which are mushy, watery specimens, but my carrots were nicely al dente and the broccoli and cauliflower still had a good bit of bite (I suspect this may be the reason my husband married me - eat all the vegetables and leave half the pie for hungry boys to hoover up.)
All in all, the meal was excellent value at £8.49 a head, even though it has made my trousers a little too tight. Still, three hours is a long time - I'm sure I'll be able to manage another few courses by then, although I might just go and seek out some loose-waisted trousers, just in case.
Thus it was that we accidentally ended up stopping off at The Didsbury for lunch on the way home; it just looked so inviting, and as I was by now dangerously thin from carrying the heavy bags etc it made sense to call in for an enormous meal. The Didsbury is always busy, and our visit didn't get off to the most auspicious start - we waited for five minutes to be seated as a number of staff ran around with plates, resolutely ignoring us, and then were sent to the least desirable table in the whole place.
Spotting that a tantrum was fast approaching, Mr Liz quickly distracted me with the menu, and more specifically the excellent value lunch deal, and then indeed all was well. Monday to Saturday, between 12 and 5pm, you can choose from selected main dishes priced between £4.99 and £6.49, and then pick a starter or dessert for just £2; otherwise I would never have had a starter - I am due at a dinner party in a shade over three hours and currently feel like a wafer thin mint would tip me over the edge.
Still, at £2 a throw it would be rude not to, so I had the chicken and honey pate and Mr Liz went for the stilton mushrooms; both were delicious, with a tell-tale blob of stilton, cream and peppercorn sauce remaining in the centre of the table throughout our meal as sadly incontrovertible evidence of my mushroom thievery. This being The Didsbury, portion control had gone wildy awry, with generous piles of light-as-a-feather toast meaning that I was more or less full by the time the waitress removed our plates (with barely a glance at the greedy-girl mushroom splodge - very professional.)
Luckily I had only ordered a modest, low-fat main course. Oh no, wait, I've actually ordered the world's biggest plate of food - steak and ale pie with chips, veg and gravy. Now, my husband reckons himself something of a pie expert, hailing as he does from up near Wigan; indeed, he asked that he be referred to in this post as a "pie witness", with a smirk on his face that suggested he was most pleased with this rather lame witticism. He proclaimed The Didsbury pie a triumph - a proper, free-standing, pastry-all-the-way-round-none-of-this-pie-in-a-pot-with-just-pastry-on-the-top nonsense, and filled with a richly unctious mix of tender meat and sticky gravy. You can also tell a lot about a pub by the quality of its vegetables, many of which are mushy, watery specimens, but my carrots were nicely al dente and the broccoli and cauliflower still had a good bit of bite (I suspect this may be the reason my husband married me - eat all the vegetables and leave half the pie for hungry boys to hoover up.)
All in all, the meal was excellent value at £8.49 a head, even though it has made my trousers a little too tight. Still, three hours is a long time - I'm sure I'll be able to manage another few courses by then, although I might just go and seek out some loose-waisted trousers, just in case.
Saturday, 27 November 2010
The Best Real Fire Pubs in Manchester, But NO SNOW - Gah
While I write this post, the whole of the UK is enjoying the earliest proper snow for, ooh, donkey's years. Children are rushing, rosy cheeked, to the tops of nearby hills in order that they might sled down the other side; bescarfed adults are cupping their frost-bitten hands around convenient glasses of warming mulled wine; cats are stretching lazily in front of the fire while outside a muffled carpet of white perfection wipes away the harsh modernity of everyday living. And throughout all pervades the calmness that only the knowledge that your school/college/workplace will be shut on Monday can bring.
Oh, wait. All except Manchester. We have no snow. At all. I have spent a fretful day keeping one eye on the sky, which has remained a stubborn shade of bright blue, and one eye on Twitter, where friends in other parts of the country have been merrily posting pictures of themselves larking about in attractive knitwear. This is most unfair, for I would like nothing more than to wrap up warm, trudge through the snow, and take refuge in a welcoming hostelry where I will be plied with warming hot toddies. So to that end, I am going to PRETEND there is a winter wonderland outside rather than a row of wheelie bins, and post my favourite real fire pubs anyway.
1. The Didsbury, Didsbury. Obviously this is a great pub at any time of year, but becomes a particularly attractive prospect when the weather is cold - be prepared to push, shove and generally play dirty in order to bag the seats by the fire.
2. The Metropolitan, West Didsbury. A couple of provisos with this one: drinks are dear, and although the fire IS glorious, it is quite phenomenally, ridiculously hot - hapless young women have been known to singe their eyebrows by venturing too close to its flamy charms.
3. Horse and Jockey, Chorlton. A local favourite that has survived a recent overhaul to retain its traditional charms: open fires and the kind of low beams that anyone over four feet tall has trouble avoiding *rubs head*
4. The Crown Inn, Stockport. I'm not always in a hurry to recommend a night out in Stockers, but if you have boys in tow this is an excellent choice - CAMRA Greater Manchester Regional Pub of the Year 2008, no less.
5. The Britons Protection, Manchester. On a balmy summer evening you may find yourself queueing up amongst an impatient crowd of impeccably shod stick creatures to pay a tenner for a cocktail at Cloud 23; in the winter you'd be far better cosying up in this charming boozer just across the road.
So surely a light dusting isn't too much to ask? Frankly, if it doesn't snow tonight I'm simply going to don my mittens and my overpriced sheepskin boots and go and sit by a fire somewhere anyway. Woe betide ANYONE who gets in my way...
Oh, wait. All except Manchester. We have no snow. At all. I have spent a fretful day keeping one eye on the sky, which has remained a stubborn shade of bright blue, and one eye on Twitter, where friends in other parts of the country have been merrily posting pictures of themselves larking about in attractive knitwear. This is most unfair, for I would like nothing more than to wrap up warm, trudge through the snow, and take refuge in a welcoming hostelry where I will be plied with warming hot toddies. So to that end, I am going to PRETEND there is a winter wonderland outside rather than a row of wheelie bins, and post my favourite real fire pubs anyway.
1. The Didsbury, Didsbury. Obviously this is a great pub at any time of year, but becomes a particularly attractive prospect when the weather is cold - be prepared to push, shove and generally play dirty in order to bag the seats by the fire.
2. The Metropolitan, West Didsbury. A couple of provisos with this one: drinks are dear, and although the fire IS glorious, it is quite phenomenally, ridiculously hot - hapless young women have been known to singe their eyebrows by venturing too close to its flamy charms.
3. Horse and Jockey, Chorlton. A local favourite that has survived a recent overhaul to retain its traditional charms: open fires and the kind of low beams that anyone over four feet tall has trouble avoiding *rubs head*
4. The Crown Inn, Stockport. I'm not always in a hurry to recommend a night out in Stockers, but if you have boys in tow this is an excellent choice - CAMRA Greater Manchester Regional Pub of the Year 2008, no less.
5. The Britons Protection, Manchester. On a balmy summer evening you may find yourself queueing up amongst an impatient crowd of impeccably shod stick creatures to pay a tenner for a cocktail at Cloud 23; in the winter you'd be far better cosying up in this charming boozer just across the road.
So surely a light dusting isn't too much to ask? Frankly, if it doesn't snow tonight I'm simply going to don my mittens and my overpriced sheepskin boots and go and sit by a fire somewhere anyway. Woe betide ANYONE who gets in my way...
Wednesday, 13 October 2010
The Social Network AND Dinner at The Didsbury: Unfeasibly Good Tuesday Night Out
I have found a definite advantage to being a greedy-faced glutton who will eat pretty much anything: it allows you to take advantage of excellent-value set menus across Manchester, in places who will fall over themselves to bring you a succession of seasonal dishes for a ridiculously low price. As the only things - in the world - I dislike are coffee, celery and desiccated coconut, I am fairly safe as far as set menus are concerned: even a coffee dessert sent by the devil himself can be safely dealt with by accompanying friends or husbands.
After the recent triumphs of The Mark Addy's Gourmet Evening, the latest local venue to offer an exotic taster menu is The Didsbury, always a favourite location but even more alluring when it's Game Taster Night (please insert own joke about being game for anything here, if you really must sink so low.) For a measly £18.99 per head, we scoffed the following:
1. Mini Wild Boar Burger, served with fried egg and chips. Absolutely delicious, although I was rather put off by the drawing of wild boar in the accompanying menu, who smiled sadly at me throughout my consumption of what was presumably him or a close relative.
2. Grilled Breast of Guinea Fowl, served with chorizo, chilli jam and sweet potato mash. I would like to point out that this course clearly contains one of my five-a-day, thereby negating any potential downside of eating such a large meal.
3. Roasted Pheasant Breast, stuffed with apple, pork and honey, wrapped in bacon and served with coq au vin sauce. This was my husband's favourite course: he went a bit like Homer Simpson does when he goes "aaaggggghhhhuuuugggggg" and starts drooling.
4. Wild Venison Medallions, served with braised red cabbage and a cherry and red wine sauce (red food = healthy, I know this for an actual fact). This was MY favourite course.
5. Apple, Cinnamon and Sultana Crumble. I confidently said I didn't want this. I ate every last scrap and then complained all the way home about having eaten too much (humour me - at least TRY to look surprised.)
The menu also includes a glass of wine, which I sipped very slowly and made last for five whole courses in a bid to prove that I can be restrained if necessary on a school night. The menu is available again on Monday 25th and Tuesday 26th October, and if I weren't in Edinburgh I would definitely go again. You can book by ringing The Didsbury on 0161 445 5389.
Many thanks to Paul, the lovely gaffer at The Didsbury for letting us sneak in pretty late on in the evening for our repast, for in an unprecedented double bill of Tuesday night action we had snaffled some free tickets for The Social Network at Cineworld. I did some predictable chuntering about how I was expecting a dreary couple of hours watching a bunch of IT geeks doing dull things with computers, but I take it all back. This film is brilliant - superbly acted, full of fantastic pantomime villain-type characters and with a sparkling script from the mighty Aaron Sorkin. I got home and posted a facebook status about the film about facebook I'd just watched, and fell blissfully asleep full of game and my own cleverness.
After the recent triumphs of The Mark Addy's Gourmet Evening, the latest local venue to offer an exotic taster menu is The Didsbury, always a favourite location but even more alluring when it's Game Taster Night (please insert own joke about being game for anything here, if you really must sink so low.) For a measly £18.99 per head, we scoffed the following:
1. Mini Wild Boar Burger, served with fried egg and chips. Absolutely delicious, although I was rather put off by the drawing of wild boar in the accompanying menu, who smiled sadly at me throughout my consumption of what was presumably him or a close relative.
2. Grilled Breast of Guinea Fowl, served with chorizo, chilli jam and sweet potato mash. I would like to point out that this course clearly contains one of my five-a-day, thereby negating any potential downside of eating such a large meal.
3. Roasted Pheasant Breast, stuffed with apple, pork and honey, wrapped in bacon and served with coq au vin sauce. This was my husband's favourite course: he went a bit like Homer Simpson does when he goes "aaaggggghhhhuuuugggggg" and starts drooling.
4. Wild Venison Medallions, served with braised red cabbage and a cherry and red wine sauce (red food = healthy, I know this for an actual fact). This was MY favourite course.
5. Apple, Cinnamon and Sultana Crumble. I confidently said I didn't want this. I ate every last scrap and then complained all the way home about having eaten too much (humour me - at least TRY to look surprised.)
The menu also includes a glass of wine, which I sipped very slowly and made last for five whole courses in a bid to prove that I can be restrained if necessary on a school night. The menu is available again on Monday 25th and Tuesday 26th October, and if I weren't in Edinburgh I would definitely go again. You can book by ringing The Didsbury on 0161 445 5389.
Many thanks to Paul, the lovely gaffer at The Didsbury for letting us sneak in pretty late on in the evening for our repast, for in an unprecedented double bill of Tuesday night action we had snaffled some free tickets for The Social Network at Cineworld. I did some predictable chuntering about how I was expecting a dreary couple of hours watching a bunch of IT geeks doing dull things with computers, but I take it all back. This film is brilliant - superbly acted, full of fantastic pantomime villain-type characters and with a sparkling script from the mighty Aaron Sorkin. I got home and posted a facebook status about the film about facebook I'd just watched, and fell blissfully asleep full of game and my own cleverness.
Saturday, 9 October 2010
Forthcoming Niceties at Pinchjo's and The Didsbury
Now, there are only so many hours in a day, and a distressing number of those are spent at work, so some prioritising may be in order. As well as the flurry of festivals previously discussed, I also need to contend with the following:
1. Pinchjo's tapas restaurant on Burton Road in West Didsbury is offering something called Sound Scape every Sunday evening from 5pm, where £10 buys you all you can eat. This seems all well and good, until you realise exactly how much marking and general boringness must be completed before Monday morning comes. Will those essays go into work with a few Prosecco smears on them? Will the husband find himself without clean pants? Until I've tried it, it's difficult to be certain how far-reaching the effects of Sundays at Pinchjo's could be.
2. Game Taster Menu at The Didsbury. Five courses of gamey goodness including a glass of wine for £18.99 a head? Yes please. Only on Mon 11th, Tues 12th, Mon 25th and Tue 26th October? Gah. That'll be a ridiculously late table for two then please.
3. Autumn TV. Hurrah for the new season schedules! Hurroo to it all being on at the same time - David Tennant vs Downton Abbey vs Crime Thing with Aidan Gillen - all at 9pm tomorrow! Whitechapel vs doublebill of all new America's Next Top Model at 9pm on Monday! How one is supposed to fit one's work and social commitments round all of this is a mystery - it's all well and good Sky-Plussing everything, but you try facing down an angry boy when the hard drive has crashed because it's got nine hours of Tyra Banks on it...
1. Pinchjo's tapas restaurant on Burton Road in West Didsbury is offering something called Sound Scape every Sunday evening from 5pm, where £10 buys you all you can eat. This seems all well and good, until you realise exactly how much marking and general boringness must be completed before Monday morning comes. Will those essays go into work with a few Prosecco smears on them? Will the husband find himself without clean pants? Until I've tried it, it's difficult to be certain how far-reaching the effects of Sundays at Pinchjo's could be.
2. Game Taster Menu at The Didsbury. Five courses of gamey goodness including a glass of wine for £18.99 a head? Yes please. Only on Mon 11th, Tues 12th, Mon 25th and Tue 26th October? Gah. That'll be a ridiculously late table for two then please.
3. Autumn TV. Hurrah for the new season schedules! Hurroo to it all being on at the same time - David Tennant vs Downton Abbey vs Crime Thing with Aidan Gillen - all at 9pm tomorrow! Whitechapel vs doublebill of all new America's Next Top Model at 9pm on Monday! How one is supposed to fit one's work and social commitments round all of this is a mystery - it's all well and good Sky-Plussing everything, but you try facing down an angry boy when the hard drive has crashed because it's got nine hours of Tyra Banks on it...
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
Didsbury Double-Header: Dinner, Cake and Fizz
When I applied to go to University, my list of hobbies and interests no doubt mentioned voluntary work, going to high-brow theatrical events, reading classic literature, playing badminton (and perhaps squash as well - who remembers?) and being a general all-round top swot.
Obviously, my real-life CV would be more likely to include the following pursuits:
- going to the pub
- drinking fizzy wine
- reading trashy books
- watching (and discussing with like-minded friends) America's Next Top Model
- attending lovely parties and hob-nobbing with lovely friends
- all forms of food, especially curry, cake and anything from Marks & Spencer
and so on.
So imagine an evening that manages to include not one, but, um, *counts*, at least THREE of my preferred leisure activities! And on a normally non-descript Tuesday night!
It all began with Twitter, obviously. Lovely Laura (it is SO nice when a pleasant word alliterates with your name) from Airy Fairy Cupcakes announced that there was to be a fizz and cupcake evening at the estimable Love2Eat Deli in West Didsbury; ladies only, with a glass of fizz and a cupcake for just £5, it would clearly be ridiculous not to go.
"Oh," says the husband. "Well, have a nice time. I'm just off to mope about with my sad I'm-being-abandoned-again face on. Let me know if you want picking up."
Being a good and dutiful wife, I selflessly suggested we go and have dinner at The Didsbury first, using our BOGOF voucher carefully clipped from The South Manchester Reporter last week. If you've not tried the food at The Didsbury yet you really should; we shared a starter of whitebait (we are both exceptionally poor at sharing, which indicates how generous the portions are) and then went down the path of meaty goodness - my husband had the 9oz rump steak and I chose (what I thought was) a plain burger.
It is of course my own fault for not reading the menu properly, but really I think this particular food item should be renamed "The Hungry Boy's Burger", because it contained everything a hungry boy could ever dream of: onion rings, a fried egg, great thick slabs of bacon, cheese...oh, and a burger. I'm really not complaining - everything was of excellent quality - but it was all just a bit big. The husband's steak was also very good by the way, although I could hardly see it beyond the rolling heights of Burger Mountain.
The lovely waitress offered pudding, but I knew I had a cupcake with my name on it waiting across town. Actually, that's another story. "Do I need to buy my ticket in advance?" I tweeted to Laura; "No," she replied, "just pay on the door and I'll make sure there's a cake with your name on it, so to speak." Well, clearly there's an opportunity here to make a childish joke about stamping my feet and wanting a cupcake with my ACTUAL name on it, and I did not disappoint; the trouble with such adolescent humour is that it makes you feel not-worthy when you turn up and find that Laura has actually gone to the trouble of icing your name onto a cake. Almost too cute to eat. Almost.
Anyway, a fine time was had by all - Penny from Love2Eat kept the wine flowing, the cakes were delicious (obviously), and a lovely lady from DollyBox smilingly presided over a table of cut-price make-up goodies (note to self: step away from the make-up table after quaffing several glasses of wine, STEP AWAY.) Hopefully the fizz and cake evening will become a regular event; in the meantime you can order from the Airy Fairy at her website (www.airyfairycupcakes.co.uk), or visit Love2Eat for one of their excellent dining deals - see www.love-2eat.com for more details.
Obviously, my real-life CV would be more likely to include the following pursuits:
- going to the pub
- drinking fizzy wine
- reading trashy books
- watching (and discussing with like-minded friends) America's Next Top Model
- attending lovely parties and hob-nobbing with lovely friends
- all forms of food, especially curry, cake and anything from Marks & Spencer
and so on.
So imagine an evening that manages to include not one, but, um, *counts*, at least THREE of my preferred leisure activities! And on a normally non-descript Tuesday night!
It all began with Twitter, obviously. Lovely Laura (it is SO nice when a pleasant word alliterates with your name) from Airy Fairy Cupcakes announced that there was to be a fizz and cupcake evening at the estimable Love2Eat Deli in West Didsbury; ladies only, with a glass of fizz and a cupcake for just £5, it would clearly be ridiculous not to go.
"Oh," says the husband. "Well, have a nice time. I'm just off to mope about with my sad I'm-being-abandoned-again face on. Let me know if you want picking up."
Being a good and dutiful wife, I selflessly suggested we go and have dinner at The Didsbury first, using our BOGOF voucher carefully clipped from The South Manchester Reporter last week. If you've not tried the food at The Didsbury yet you really should; we shared a starter of whitebait (we are both exceptionally poor at sharing, which indicates how generous the portions are) and then went down the path of meaty goodness - my husband had the 9oz rump steak and I chose (what I thought was) a plain burger.
It is of course my own fault for not reading the menu properly, but really I think this particular food item should be renamed "The Hungry Boy's Burger", because it contained everything a hungry boy could ever dream of: onion rings, a fried egg, great thick slabs of bacon, cheese...oh, and a burger. I'm really not complaining - everything was of excellent quality - but it was all just a bit big. The husband's steak was also very good by the way, although I could hardly see it beyond the rolling heights of Burger Mountain.
The lovely waitress offered pudding, but I knew I had a cupcake with my name on it waiting across town. Actually, that's another story. "Do I need to buy my ticket in advance?" I tweeted to Laura; "No," she replied, "just pay on the door and I'll make sure there's a cake with your name on it, so to speak." Well, clearly there's an opportunity here to make a childish joke about stamping my feet and wanting a cupcake with my ACTUAL name on it, and I did not disappoint; the trouble with such adolescent humour is that it makes you feel not-worthy when you turn up and find that Laura has actually gone to the trouble of icing your name onto a cake. Almost too cute to eat. Almost.
Anyway, a fine time was had by all - Penny from Love2Eat kept the wine flowing, the cakes were delicious (obviously), and a lovely lady from DollyBox smilingly presided over a table of cut-price make-up goodies (note to self: step away from the make-up table after quaffing several glasses of wine, STEP AWAY.) Hopefully the fizz and cake evening will become a regular event; in the meantime you can order from the Airy Fairy at her website (www.airyfairycupcakes.co.uk), or visit Love2Eat for one of their excellent dining deals - see www.love-2eat.com for more details.
Friday, 6 August 2010
The Didsbury Pub Reopens After Refurbishment...and WE APPROVE!
As documented just two days ago, I'm quite resistant to change. Thus, upon hearing the news that The Didsbury pub was to close for ten days for a refurbishment, my despair was twofold. Firstly, who would serve me Prosecco during that dangerously long ten day window? And secondly, please don't change it, because I like it the way it is! I like that the tables are rickety and covered with candle wax; I like that the carpet is a little bit sticky and has been here since 1947; I LIKE IT HOW IT IS!
I needn't have worried, of course. The refurbishment has been done tastefully and unobtrusively, meaning the pub looks the same but just a bit, well, nicer. The biggest changes are as you go in - a new door with the Chef and Brewer logo etched into it, and two enormous armchairs lurking in the entrance, ready to pounce on unwary customers (I noticed my husband suffered a dangerous fall into one of them on the way out; too much beer, or perhaps the floor is treacherously slippy just there.)
The rest of the pub is fresh and bright, but retaining the cosy feel that The Didsbury has always done best. Upstairs (I never even KNEW there was an upstairs until about a month ago) has been done up to the same standard, meaning that at busy times you can take your drink up to a quiet table without feeling like you've been exiled (remember the scary basement overspill at The Great Kathmandu?), although there is no bar up there at present (never fear - think of the exercise you'll get going up and down the stairs.)
Last night's "soft launch" had a real buzz about it, full of happy punters relieved to see their favourite pub hadn't become a wine bar or Wacky Warehouse while their backs were turned, and lovely cheery staff who seemed genuinely pleased to be working in such a nice environment. The excellent food menu remains as it was (although we sampled it again, just to be sure); the Barbecue Pork Shanks were so good I had to be physically restrained from licking my plate, and my husband's Great British Fish and Chips was so generously portioned that he had to LEAVE SOME, not because he didn't like it (he did) but because he was full (big girl).
So thanks to Paul and Paula for making us so welcome - the pub is fully reopened from today, so you should really pop down and see what they've done. Also thanks to Pete and Helen for such excellent company; your head ALWAYS knows when you've been out drinking with Didsbury Life.
- The Didsbury is at 852 Wilmslow Road, Didsbury, Manchester M20 2SG; tel 0161 445 5389; http://www.thedidsbury.co.uk
- Didsbury Life are at 212 Burton Road, West Didsbury, Manchester; tel 0161 445 7759; http://www.didsburylife.com
I needn't have worried, of course. The refurbishment has been done tastefully and unobtrusively, meaning the pub looks the same but just a bit, well, nicer. The biggest changes are as you go in - a new door with the Chef and Brewer logo etched into it, and two enormous armchairs lurking in the entrance, ready to pounce on unwary customers (I noticed my husband suffered a dangerous fall into one of them on the way out; too much beer, or perhaps the floor is treacherously slippy just there.)
The rest of the pub is fresh and bright, but retaining the cosy feel that The Didsbury has always done best. Upstairs (I never even KNEW there was an upstairs until about a month ago) has been done up to the same standard, meaning that at busy times you can take your drink up to a quiet table without feeling like you've been exiled (remember the scary basement overspill at The Great Kathmandu?), although there is no bar up there at present (never fear - think of the exercise you'll get going up and down the stairs.)
Last night's "soft launch" had a real buzz about it, full of happy punters relieved to see their favourite pub hadn't become a wine bar or Wacky Warehouse while their backs were turned, and lovely cheery staff who seemed genuinely pleased to be working in such a nice environment. The excellent food menu remains as it was (although we sampled it again, just to be sure); the Barbecue Pork Shanks were so good I had to be physically restrained from licking my plate, and my husband's Great British Fish and Chips was so generously portioned that he had to LEAVE SOME, not because he didn't like it (he did) but because he was full (big girl).
So thanks to Paul and Paula for making us so welcome - the pub is fully reopened from today, so you should really pop down and see what they've done. Also thanks to Pete and Helen for such excellent company; your head ALWAYS knows when you've been out drinking with Didsbury Life.
- The Didsbury is at 852 Wilmslow Road, Didsbury, Manchester M20 2SG; tel 0161 445 5389; http://www.thedidsbury.co.uk
- Didsbury Life are at 212 Burton Road, West Didsbury, Manchester; tel 0161 445 7759; http://www.didsburylife.com
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