Bloggers' Brunch at Neighbourhood, Spinningfields: Sausage and Cocktails before Noon

There's something very attractive about a brunch menu. For one thing, it tends to include many of my favourite items, often involving a sausage or two, and bacon, and some eggs, and maybe a clutch of pancakes. For another, it opens up the thrilling possibility of hard liquor before lunchtime, somehow rendering it acceptable to knock back a martini or similar as long as it features something vaguely breakfasty - some kind of juice or marmalade product, perhaps. However, I rarely go out for brunch due to two basic flaws in the premise: I am an early riser but rarely find myself dressed and presentable in time for such occasions, and it forces me to forgo breakfast - something that makes me grumpy, and often a little petulant.

Still, the Bloggers' Brunch at Neighbourhood, held to preview their new mid-morning offering, looked to be worth attending, not least because the fragrant Didsbury Girl agreed to be my date. I've only eaten at Neighbourhood once before, and whilst the food was very good, I've always been slightly put off by the glitzy, rather waggish photos tweeted every Friday and Saturday night of thin women in small dresses drinking cocktails. And initial signs are not promising - we arrive to find the place full to bursting with hungry bloggers (always a terrifying sight), and whilst we bag a table to ourselves, it has a large tea stain right in the middle that isn't wiped away at any point. I ask for a pot of tea of my own and am brought half a coffee cup of hot water with bag and milk already in, and despite the fact that there can't have been more than a couple of inches of water in the cup, the teabag just isn't up to the job. I did warn you that not having breakfast made me grumpy.

The food itself is good though. We each order a main dish from the brunch menu - I go for the Full English, mindful of the importance of pork products at brunch - but are brought some samples unbidden in addition to this. The buttermilk pancakes arrive first, draped with a glossy chocolate sauce; the pancakes are light and fluffy and the sauce excellent, although I would have liked a few blueberries or other fruit items in the batter rather than just the solitary one on top (I ate that one - Didsbury Girl was too slow). We enjoy them, but wonder exactly how many you would get for the price of £7.50, which seems on the expensive side. Then comes the Breakfast Sandwich - a toasted muffin containing bacon, sausage and a fried egg. This is straightforward, and enjoyable, and I get to eat it all to myself as Didsbury Girl is given a spinach and mushroom number instead for her veggie option.

Best of all is the Full English Breakfast - two pork sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs, Bury black pudding, grilled tomato, sautéed mushrooms and toast (except the mushrooms promised on the menu seem to have turned into baked beans - no matter). This is very good indeed; in fact, we both agree that the scrambled eggs are amongst the best we've had, hitting that correct balance between butter (lots of) and egg. The bacon is good quality and perfectly grilled, the toast is just to my liking, and they clearly understand here that a thick slice of black pudding is mandatory at brunchtime. My only (small) gripe is a preference for a thicker sausage. Meanwhile, across the table Didsbury Girl is enjoying her veggie option and is particularly taken with both the eggs and the spinach.

All of this takes a very long time to be served. But the staff are lovely - cheerful and efficient and liberal with the Bellinis and Mimosas that frequently appear as if by magic. It transpires that the kitchen were prepared for 34 guests but over 70 have turned up - and rather than gripe and sulk, Neighbourhood simply serve us all, with good grace and humour and some really very good food under the circumstances. Neighbourhood closes soon for a full refurb, and seems keen to position itself as a quality restaurant where everyone is welcome rather than just those hoping to bag a footballer - there is already a kids' corner with some excellent dressing-up props (erm, apparently), and all sorts of events are planned in order to fill this impressively large venue every night of the week. Definitely a case of watch this space I think (and hands off the crown in the dressing-up box - that's mine).

- Neighbourhood is at The Avenue North, Spinningfields, Manchester M3 3BT. The new brunch menu is available Saturday and Sunday between 10am and 2pm.

New Fruit & Veg Box Delivery from Creamline Dairies Brings Healthy Smugness and NO MUD to Kitchen

I've never really grown out of the excitement of things being delivered to my house, in a box. I order shameless amounts of cookbooks from online retailers, secure in the knowledge that they will be delivered to my house, in a box. It's only a matter of time before I subscribe to one of those monthly beauty boxes, and a monthly gin club delivery, and pretty much anything else that can be delivered to my house, in a box. It's no surprise, then, that over the years I have subscribed to several different vegetable box deliveries - but, whilst a box of kohlrabi and carrots is genuinely even more more exciting to me than a box of beauty samples, I have yet to settle down with the right one. Abel & Cole got a bit mean, and Riverford just got too muddy - I don't require my veg scrubbed to within an inch of their lives, but when the leek-to-dirt ratio tipped in favour of the mud, it was time to part company.

I was interested, then, to try a box of wholesome goodies from new kid on the block, Creamline Dairies. Well, I say new - this family-run, Stockport-based business was actually founded in 1945, and is one of the leading independent dairy companies in the UK, having recently acquired the North West local delivery business of Dairy Crest, and also delivers a whole range of storecupboard essentials for people like me who lack the organisational skills to visit a shop. What is new, however, is the Fruit & Veg Box delivery service - you order what you want from the website (which is attractively set out and easy to use), they procure it all for you from local farmers and suppliers, and then deliver it to your door for free. There are over 60 varieties of fruit and veg to choose from, with minimum order set at a tenner.

They sent me a mixed, mystery box to try, and thus my excitement was actually palpable as I lifted the lid (carefully heeding the warning on the box about the fresh, perky nature of the contents). Inside were lots of vegetably basics - a big bag of potatoes, carrots, a swede, a couple of enormous onions, lettuce, some cherry tomatoes, a head of broccoli the approximate size of my own, and NO MUD. Even better was the fruit selection: bananas, grapes, kiwi fruit, oranges, several different types of apple, plums and pears, each housed in a brown paper bag rather than yards of plastic and provided in the sort of sensible qualities that wouldn't overwhelm a girl who lives on her own.

I must admit, I do like the element of surprise in a random delivery of seasonal fruit and veg - it encourages me to try new things rather than just shove the same things in my basket every time (for example, I never normally buy lettuce but enjoyed the quick tea I was able to make with some elderly roast chicken thanks to its unwonted presence in my fridge). Creamline don't operate in this way - instead, you build your own box by just clicking on whatever you want, and you can either have a repeat order or place a completely new one each time. This is admittedly probably a better idea, although I do still applaud the sense of a box that simply makes the most of whatever is plentiful, fresh and available. Would I use the service again? Yes, most definitely - everything was of excellent quality (bar some plums that could have had a bit more flavour to them), and there really is no greater smugness than the health-giving presence of such a box in one's kitchen. Better for you than gin or lipsticks too (although I can't promise to give these up completely).

- order via the Creamline website here. I was sent this box for review purposes, but ate the lot (excluding the cardboard).

Opera North Bring Mozart's Cosi fan Tutte to Manchester's Lowry Theatre

It's been a while since I've been to see Opera North, and I've missed them. Anyone who thinks opera is pretentious, or boring, or po-faced upper class nonsense really needs to spend an evening with this most talented of companies, who never fail to entertain and who understand that great opera should be funny as well as beautiful. I also like that they don't do things by halves and seemingly have no aversion to making life harder for themselves - they tend to rock up at The Lowry from time to time with not one but three different productions, all in the same week.

Last week I saw the first of these, an English-sung performance of Mozart's Cosi fan Tutte. Now, most operas - at least the ones I have seen - are somewhat slim of plot, but this one is a pretty straightforward story even by opera standards. Don Alfonso is a philosopher who clearly has both too much time on his hands and an inherent distrust of women - to prove a point, he bets his two friends, Ferrando and Guglielmo, that their beloveds cannot stay faithful over the course of a day. During that day they must do whatever he says, and thus have to go along with the charade when he tells sisters Fiordiligi and Dorabella that their menfolk have been sent overseas on active service. Cue lots of caterwauling and posing mournfully but attractively on high-backed chairs by the two young ladies, who are quite obviously going to pass the fidelity test with flying colours. Well, they might have done were it not for Don Alfonso and their feisty lady's maid Despina, who orchestrate a (not very) cunning plan in which Ferrando and Guglielmo dress up as two handsome strangers and put their seductive powers to the test.

As plots go, it's a deliberately sparse one. There's much to be enjoyed along the way - there are some surprisingly funny lines (often at the expense of female honour - even the name of the opera suggests that we're all the same) and the performances are flawless as usual. All but one of the cast are Opera North regulars, and we particularly enjoy the bumbling charms of Nicholas Watts and Gavin Ring as they haplessly attempt to both resist and seduce each other's girlfriends. The staging is also effectively handled, although understated by Opera North's standards - a one-room setting (the sisters' home) that contracts and expands like a vice to reflect the stifling nature of the situation and which cleverly uses doors and lifts to represent different elements of the seduction process. In other words, Opera North do nothing wrong. This just isn't one of my favourite operas - the music is beautiful, with its repeated motifs and stunning arias, but the story just isn't quite enough for me, and words that sound seductive in Italian don't always convey the same mystery and beauty when sung in English. The questions raised over sexual morals in this closed, claustrophobic world are interesting ones, but the distress of some of the characters - particularly Fiordiligi - under the manipulation of Don Alfonso is a little too discomfiting for me.

That said, there are few better ways of spending an evening than in the company of Opera North. They are young, enterprising, sexy and talented - and anyone who still thinks that opera is for the elite may like to know that later in the evening I found myself discussing just how poorly Fiordiligi had been treated with the lady herself (Maire Flavin) on Twitter. I'm already looking forward to their return - keep an eye on their website for news of upcoming productions. Just don't blame me if you end up speaking to everyone in song the next day...

- photos courtesy of Opera North: all photo credits Tristram Kenton.

Vino & Spuntini: Or, Wine & Food Pairing at Veeno Manchester

There is a school of thought that there is no such thing as coincidence. I am quite happy for this to be so, as if there's no such thing as coincidence then the invitation to a wine and food pairing evening at Veeno which arrived a couple of days after a friend and I had been talking about going anyway was nothing less than a sign from above, telling us it was OK to go out and drink wine on a school night.

Thus sanctioned by higher powers, we take our places with around 20 other bloggers for the "Vino & Spuntini" Classic Winetasting experience: six wines from the family vineyard in Sicily, each paired with a different appetizer, including a sweet wine and dessert to finish. This is, of course, a marvellous idea - wine makes me hungry (well, even hungrier than I normally am anyway), and I'm a big fan of the Italian way of eating, where little plates of tempting snacks are considered de rigueur when consuming any form of alcohol. The Veeno way turns out to test one's will power to a quite extraordinary degree though - the snack platters you see here (each one shared between four of us) arrive at the start of the evening and it is UP TO US to control ourselves and resist each item until its wine-matched partner turns up. We do well at this, but it takes some effort, and we note that elsewhere on the table others have not paced themselves with such care (and have indeed wolfed the platter as soon as it arrives).

The first pairing is the house white with bread and olive oil. The olive oil is exceptional, amongst the best I've tasted in this country, and I note with some interest that it can be purchased in the Veeno shop. The wine, a light number made from the Catarratto grape, is nothing special though - the waitress cheerily suggests that it's so light it's a bit like water, and whilst this may be a fine quality in the balminess of an Italian summer, it's perhaps not the first thing one would look for in a wine on a brisk March evening in Manchester.

The next wine is billed as "our fruitiest" and is much nicer than the first - a fresh, peachy number from the Inzolia grape that copes well with the olives and tapenade that accompany it. Then we're on to the reds, and "our smoothest", a blend of Frappato and Nerello which is a good match for a feisty Salame Milano. I enjoy the classic Sicilian Nero d'Avola and its partnering with Parma ham, and likewise the final red, a classy Cabernet Sauvignon served with Parmigiano Reggiano. This is billed as an elegant pairing and indeed it is, although the way in which we fall upon the pieces of (excellent) Parmigiano after we have been looking at it for the best part of an hour is perhaps less so.

To close, we have a small shot of Marsala Superiore Riserva, a sweet dessert wine served with homemade Tiramisu. I ask to forgo this course as a confirmed coffee hater; instead they kindly bring me some very good lemon sorbet, a nice touch on a set pairing menu. The Marsala goes down a treat, and I am pleased to recall that I have a bottle of this in my booze cabinet at home which has been waiting for some time for me to find a use for it (a use which, I now realise, is simply to be poured into a glass and consumed).

Overall we have a very enjoyable night. Veeno is a friendly little place with a great atmosphere, and whilst I wouldn't order all of these wines on their own, most of them stand up well to their food pairings, which are well-chosen and of good quality. The Classic Winetasting that we try is priced at £19.90, which seems good value for the amount you get - I would certainly go again. Veeno Manchester is part of a small chain of wine cafes founded by Nino and Andrea, who opened the Manchester branch in 2013 in order to spread their love of Italian food and wine - a noble cause that I, for one, am happy to throw my weight behind (as long as it involves perching on a bar stool eating breadsticks).

- Veeno Manchester is at 2, Albert Square M2 6LW. This was a press evening where we were not asked to pay for our food or drink, but at under £20 I would have happily forked out anyway.

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.

New Guest Blog Post, in which Matt celebrates 20 years of Chorlton's Lead Station

I’ve lived in Manchester on and off for about 12 years and my first flat happened to be in Chorlton. During our initial trip down Beech Road, we first remarked that it was very different to anywhere else in Chorlton, and I piped up with ‘Looks like this is the Chelsea of the North’ (I’ll let you make your own minds up on this one). I’m a little bit addicted to eggs and, needing some kind of breakfast, on our meandering we came across the Lead Station. There was a whole leafy street to explore but we thought if we were going to spend a lot of time eating around Chorlton we might as well start here, particularly since its former-police-station location is so unusual and so inviting. Now it was 12 years ago but from what I remember the food was good and when I was asked to go back there for the launch of their 20 year cookbook, I first thought, ‘Blimey where has the time gone’ and my second thought was ‘Why the hell haven’t I been back here for 12 years?’ (Now after writing this I remember my City-loving friend and I stopped off for lunch last summer, but still, the point remains.)

Anyway, enough of this nostalgia. I arrived for the 20 year celebration dinner and cookbook launch and was greeted with a really tasty mini fish and chips in a small cone. I love canapes and this really hit the spot - to be honest I could have eaten at least 8 of them. We all sat down in the back room and were greeted by Nick, the Lead Station’s owner. The menu looked appetizing and we got to choose from a selection of starters, mains and puds - for my first course I went for Grilled Goats Cheese with Sesame Seed & Balsamic Beetroot. Beetroot and Goats Cheese is a magical combination (which I probably eat 3-4 times a week) and it was nice to see it was on a measured piece of toasted bread - this is a classic way to serve it in France and I was glad to see it here as I don’t find it in many places. The sesame added a nice balance to the rich, earthy beetroot. I did manage to pilfer a little morsel of the Crab & Prawn Spring Rolls which were plump and meaty, and the Vietnamese Dipping Sauce was really moreish.

Any dish that has peas, pea puree, or any pea combination I will always order, so I couldn’t resist the Seabass & Scallops with Pea & Mint Puree with Pea Shoots. I’m not sure about you but I like the roe from the scallops being included in the dish, as they give a slight saltiness to the plump, sweet pan-fried scallops. The sea bass was perfectly cooked and the very generous portion of scallops was a lovely match paired with the creamy, rich pea puree. A big dish in every respect so I think it could have done with a little jug/helping of citrus buerre blanc to really marry the rich flavours. But all in all I’d order that dish again (and cook it as it’s in the new cookbook).

I love sharing food, maybe because I don’t ever want to miss out, so had a little taste of the Posh Shepherd’s Pie with Seasoned Greens (again from the cookbook). I’d have liked the potato a little crispier on the top but the flavours were rich and complementary, and I think that’s where the cookbook really stands out, it actually replicates the recipes from the Lead Station. A lot of places make a homage to their restaurant dishes but when you have a really good plate of food you want to create it to the exact recipe and this is where the cookbook really works.

Having a mild allergy to milk and cream (I’m ok with cheese and butter as the lactose is very much lower than pure milk and cream) I couldn’t really manage the puddings but was presented with a lovely board of classic cheeses instead - very thoughtful. The two pots of chutney were delicious and complemented the cheese very well. A delightful evening with fantastic food and good company, what more could you want on a crisp winter’s evening? The next day I delved into the cookbook.

What first struck me was the beautiful photography (I very rarely buy a cookbook that has sub-standard pics). The dishes looked inviting and immediately made me hungry - below you see a few of the dishes that really stood out for me. I’m not one for cooking massive breakfasts at home so would probably visit the Lead Station and take the breakfast firmly in hand, as well as this dish, and as a previously stated lover of beetroot, I think the beetroot risotto will become a staple dish in my household (apart from when I get in a cab and hot foot it down to the Lead Station, which will be happening on many more occasions than twice in 12 years). It's a really well-produced, useful book that will get regular use in my kitchen from now on.

- Many thanks to the Lead Station for the dinner and the book, both of which were provided free of charge for review purposes. For copies of The Cookbook please email info@theleadstation.co.uk. Nick de Sousa has owned and operated The Lead Station at 99 Beech Rd, Manchester M21 9EQ since 2007, and it is the sister restaurant to its ‘young upstart’ little brother Tariff & Dale, located in Manchester’s Northern Quarter.

The Manchester Cook Book: A Celebration of Mancunian Food and Drink

I have a bit of a problem with cook books. I own - probably - in the region of 100, and, even worse, I'm also one of those slightly spinsterish ladies who clip recipes from food magazines and keep them in a folder (OK, OK, multiple folders). I very rarely cook from them though, reading them for pleasure instead and then falling back on cooking the same old things every dinnertime, things that I can make up from whatever happens to be lying round the fridge. This is all well and good, but means that I don't ever bother making anything new - and thus, the arrival of a review copy of The Manchester Cook Book was a very fine thing indeed, forcing me to stop being so lazy and cook something different for once.

The Manchester Cook Book, written by Kate Eddison and in support of Hospitality Action, is the latest in a series celebrating regional food and drink - Sheffield, Nottingham, Derbyshire, Suffolk, Cambridgeshire and Lincolnshire are already available, although the Manchester one is, of course, the most important. It offers us a foreword by Aiden Byrne, over 55 recipes from some of Manchester's best-known pubs, restaurants, delis and food producers, and some truly stunning photography of our fair city and its cuisine. The book offers a pleasing range of difficulty and poshness levels, including tricky-looking recipes from 63 Degrees and a beauty from Manchester House that seems to require handfuls of straw; I must confess though that I tried out a couple of the easier recipes - both of which were very quickly knocked up after work and were easily adapted to what I happened to have in the fridge (which, as you will see, largely consisted of chicken and rocket).

First up, I made the Hot Coronation Chicken, from a recipe provided by Palate in Chorlton. I blame my age for the fact that Coronation Chicken remains one of my very favourite things (preferably as part of a buffet spread that also involves vol-au-vents), and this hot version is quite ludicrously easy (particularly as I ignored its breezy instruction to "make a timbale with the rice" and instead opted to "make a pile"). I added some mushrooms, and found that my tastes required a little more lime than the recipe suggested; I also substituted the mange tout for some of The Great Manchester Rocket Surplus. Otherwise, I promise I cooked from the book, and the result will definitely become part of my repertoire.

The other recipe I tried was almost as easy, although did require a little planning ahead. I loved the Mojito Chicken when I had it at the launch of Mish Mash in Chorlton (yes, there are quite a few Chorlton establishments in the book) and was keen to recreate this at home - a keenness that was slightly frustrated by the fact that the chicken needs to marinate in its sexy bath of rum, sugar, lime juice and fresh mint for 12-36 hours. In the end I left mine for about 30 hours and it was totally worth it - all it required then was a quick flambé and it was good to go. I made the jalapeno salsa (verdict: new addition) but changed the other accompaniments slightly as I had no wild rice but did have a lot of tortilla wraps, avocado and (yep) rocket. I took the leftovers to work the next day and had them cold rolled up in another wrap; if anything, the flavours were even better than the day before.

This is a lovely book, and it's hard to imagine anyone in Manchester with an interest in food not enjoying it. It's published by Meze and costs £14.95 from the featured establishments, Waterstones and Amazon. Before you know it, I'll be Aiden Byrne*

*I'll be cooking Hot Coronation and Mojito Chicken dishes until the end of days.