Best restaurants in Manchester
Published 20 April 2024

There’s much to admire about this tall, narrow Grade II-listed building just off Albert Square. Spread over three levels with ‘classy but settled decor’, it incorporates a ground-floor bar that sets the scene with a short list of natural and low-intervention wines including a ‘pretty whacky’ house white (a Chardonnay/Viura/Xarel-lo blend from Zarautz) – although we found the cocktails subpar on our most recent visit. Upstairs are two cavernous but ‘bewitchingly cosy’ dining rooms, overseen by a brigade of supremely friendly, professional and attentive staff who receive plenty of plaudits from readers. 

The kitchen delivers a seasonally changing menu of small and larger plates for sharing, all overseen by a chef with her finger on the pulse of contemporary dining – think 'lacto cucumber', ‘pickled beech mushrooms’ and 'burnt onion butter'. Our standout dish was a serving of spring beef tartare (diced not minced) dressed in leek mayonnaise mingled with raw peas and asparagus for textural bite and finished with a pickled egg yolk – although we were also impressed by a beautifully presented plate of cured sea bream with smoked crème fraîche and pine nuts. Bigger dishes include impressive cuts of meat, from slow-cooked lamb shoulder and ex-dairy ribeye to excellent pork collar offset by a sweet and subtly spicy plum ketchup and fragrant pickled cabbage – perfect with some lemony cavolo nero and fried ratte potatoes slathered in garlic cream on the side. 

To round things off, order a plate of British cheese and/or one of the skilfully crafted desserts – perhaps chocolate mousse sitting atop chocolate crumb with some neatly prepped segments of blood orange. All-day Sunday roasts (served until 7pm) also receive plenty of praise – especially when Bloody Marys and plates of Jersey oysters are also involved.

With ‘incredible’ panoramic views stretching over the city to the Pennines beyond, 20 Stories can be an eye-popping experience. Literally towering above its nearest rival when it comes to sheer glitz (ahoy down there, The Ivy Spinningfields!), it's got all the glamorous rooftop cocktails and golden light a socialite could wish for – with the bonus of bottomless brunches, afternoon teas and well-crafted ‘festive family roasts’ on Sundays.

The kitchen also has the chops when it comes to an à la carte menu loaded with good North Country produce and well-grounded technique – as in braised lamb shoulder with grilled heritage squash, BBQ sprouts and chestnuts or pan-roasted cod with cauliflower, fennel, orange and red wine sauce. You're paying for the food and the view, so competitively priced set lunches and pre-theatre deals are worth considering for 'well-made classics' such as seared salmon with courgettes, orzo and basil or a textbook flat iron steak with skinny fries.

Desserts are a highlight, from caramelised pear cheesecake or peach frangipane slice with apricot sorbet to the signature ‘20 Stories wonderland’.  Exhibitionists will love the wine list, drawn from a collection of 600 bins stored in five Eurocave fridges – although a ‘broader range at the lower end’ would be appreciated.

The ‘French' has played a leading role in Manchester's social history, along with the monumental railway hotel in which it is discreetly ensconced. As readers have noted, the Grade II-listed, oval dining room makes any meal feel like a special occasion. The mirrored, rococo interior remains darkly romantic and the high central booths provide a cocoon-like intimacy. The moodiness is relieved by a modern soundtrack, casual attired waiting staff and two outsize globular chandeliers, which counter any sense of dull melancholy or old-fashioned stuffiness.

The modern Mancunian vision presented here by talented local boy Adam Reid is 'more relaxed and focused on folk having a good time'. A warm and friendly host, Reid emphasises that his multi-course offer (no option) is not a tasting menu but a 'set' one. Small plates, yes, but in a balanced order with thoughtful concepts and a streak of theatricality to enliven proceedings. Out with flambés and in with tableside assemblies such as a salad of Stichelton blue cheese, green apple, walnut, prune and celery – a carnivalesque interpretation of a conventional cheese course.

Provenance is impeccable (as one might expect at this level), but one of the main characteristics of Reid’s menu is a playful sense of fun in his loving nod to regional traditions. It’s not childish, however, and dishes such as the standout ‘not an average cheese and onion pie’ with its starburst of flavour or the super-delectable ‘cold cut of honey-glazed ham, milk bread and mustard’ avoid whimsy in their sophisticated references to northern ‘teas’. The menu, divided into themed segments, never bored us – although a few dishes were a notch below others: ‘Cumbrian beef and horseradish on fried bread,’ for example, was overpowered by the pungent root. The cooking shows restraint while shining with flavour, whether delicate or punchy – as in butter-poached day-boat cod with Cheshire leeks and smoked roe sauce, or salt-aged Sladesdown Farm duck paired with stewed offal and cabbage pickle.

There are two wine flights (alcoholic and non-alcoholic), otherwise consult the knowledgeable and helpful sommelier. To conclude, the now-famous tipsy cake with whipped cream comes laced with rum and served with cream and black tea (a pairing that works brilliantly). And alongside our espresso (from local ManCoCo roasters), there was a choc ice dusted with shards of Uncle Joe’s Mint Balls. As Mancunian songsmith Mike Harding's iconic theme song says, we left 'all aglow'.

On the Mews Level of the Great Northern development, Another Hand looks exactly like we expect today's city-centre restaurant to look: bare brick walls, plenty of light wood, an open kitchen at the back, shelves of bottles, abstract art. What's more, its menu of veg-oriented sharing plates provisioned by northwestern suppliers has plenty of supporters. Here's why. 'The dishes are so inventive in terms of flavour and texture, but without pretension,' explains a fan, going on to cite a juxtaposition of bitter chicory with chestnut purée, the 'lion's mane' mushroom steak with chocolate mole, and the array of piquant pickles on flatbread. 'The staff are lovely, and the wine is heaven' – although it could as easily be the other way round. There is certainly culinary energy to burn in spry combinations such as smoked beetroot with horseradish, pickled mustard seeds, preserved blackberries and 'charcoal cream', or the adventurous partnering of Shetland scallops with curried carrot, burnt orange and lemon verbena – an exercise in colour collision worthy of Matisse. Meat dishes are equally energetic – an expertly rendered pork chop teamed with Crown Prince pumpkin and rhubarb, all textured with puffed grains, for example. Finish home-style with bergamot and lemon cheesecake with white chocolate, cornflake crunch and 'old-fashioned lemonade'. If skin-contact wines are your thing, there are some interesting experiments here (note the French Gewürztraminer and Argentinian Torrontes), but the regular selections inspire confidence too. Don't flinch at a potion called Succulent Blood, a cocktail blend of mezcal with blood orange, lime and cinnamon. We wouldn't be surprised to hear that Manchester runs on it.

Offering a ‘warm sunny hug’ in any weather, compact Bar San Juan is, for one reader, ‘a favourite place to be happy in’ – although the happiness starts if you manage to score a table, since bookings are severely limited by its size. The instantly welcoming, cosy tiled interior is packed with evocative memorabilia (posters, a bull's head, a Real Madrid football shirt, strings of dried chillies), while a neatly competent, Spanish-speaking team keeps tables supplied with a constant stream of tapas and drinks.

Crisp cubes of 'papas' bravas come with a boat of meaty, spicy Madrid-style brava sauce, while juicy-chewy cod's cheeks are served with bitter greens, vibrant red chillies and garlic. Other choices might range from gazpacho to spinach with chickpeas and potatoes or a silky aubergine stew topped with a slice of torched goat's cheese. Also check out the croquetas filled with free-range chicken, and the little lamb filo parcels with a Tempranillo sauce.

Puddings might be a shallow, chewy Santiago tart or boldly plain, slightly whipped vanilla custard topped with a single Maria biscuit. A short list of Spanish wines shows off its regional credentials.

Tucked away just off Piccadilly, with the buzz of the city above, this branch of the casual Indian street-food mini chain sports spacious banquette seating, vintage Bollywood posters and a ceiling skylight to brighten the room. On the menu is an array of Gujarati-inspired vegetarian, vegan and gluten-free dishes ranging from okra fries and bhel puris to paneer tikka and spinach kofta, served singly or in combos for the whole table by speedy, friendly staff. Drink Bundobust's own beer (brewed at their bespoke site on Oxford Street) or dip into the line-up of craft ales, wines and cocktails.

The younger sibling of Covino in Chester is altogether a larger, more aspirational affair. Its greatest USP is the location. Although not the first to fly high in the sky over Manchester's city centre, it keeps the urban panorama centre stage with clean, modern lines and a clever use of the rooftop space. The wrap-around interior provides every frill-free table with a pigeon’s eye view; high chairs border the long counter of the open kitchen. The connecting garden area (note the beehives) provides ample seating to satisfy the Mancunian thirst for sunshine when it appears. Climat describes itself as a 'wine-led' restaurant, a reference to their impressively stocked cellar. Burgundy leads the pack but doesn’t dominate. A Xinomavro 2018 from Macedonia had big flavours that partnered well with a robust dish of lamb leg, roasted cauliflower and kale. Unfortunately, the wine descriptions are generic; a sommelier or more informed serving staff might have helped guide the choice. The sharing-plates menu is a good spread of classic and modern, with a broadly Gallic orientation, plus retro and international references: salt fish beignets with aïoli and herb salad; prawn cocktail with avocado mousse and baby gem vol-au-vents; Tamworth pork chop with flat beans and Pommery mustard. The kitchen shows a deft hand with vegetables and salads, which are often enlivened with bitter notes – a combo of beetroot, whipped tofu, charcoal vinaigrette and mustard cress, for example, contrasted its creamy, light and earthy elements well. But there are slips, too, from an excessively oily dressing on purple sprouting broccoli to a plum tarte fine that proved unremarkable. Luckily, the quartet of well-sourced cheeses (a sheep’s milk St Helena; Roquefort-like sheep’s milk Regalis; a lactic, soft goat’s milk Elrick Log; and raw milk Baron Bigod) proved a better finale. It may be unfair to compare Climat with older sibling Covino (both are relaxed and innovative, without being gimmicky), but at inspection we found the latter offered a much more happy-making experience. 

Launched in 2018, the Manchester outpost of Dishoom is so firmly embedded in the Spinningfields district that it's hard to imagine how the area ever did without it. Inspired by the lively bustle of old Irani Bombay, it's just the place for mixing, matching and sharing hearty Indian café cooking. Although some of the turmeric-coloured booth seating is held back for reservations, it's mostly a come-as-you-are operation, starting with breakfasts for bodybuilders – akuri is three spiced and loosely scrambled eggs with grilled tomato and fat homemade pau buns.

The all-day menu offers up everything from green chilli cheese toast with garlic to okra fries and filo lamb samosas for ravenous snackers, as well as a hot line in biryanis such as nalli nihari – a 'well-flavoured' whole lamb shank with caramelised onions and rice under a pastry blanket, served with chicken liver raita. The masala prawns are slightly charred at the edges, as is only proper, while switched-on salads and vegan dishes up the ante – although the unusual jackfruit curry is something of an acquired taste.

To finish, save space for the poppyseed mawa cake with yuzu ice cream and jaggery syrup. Drinking is all part of the fun, even if you stick to the teetotal cocktails. If you don't, get slapped around the tonsils with a Padmini Negroni – built around pears soaked overnight in Campari, vermouth, citrus gin and cocoa.

Not that Castle. This one is a reconditioned late-Georgian pub in the Ancoats district of Manchester, now part of a regeneration zone that has conjured a modern neighbourhood where once there was industrial wasteland. Generously upholstered banquettes, mirrors and plenty of daylight from big windows are spirit-lifting in themselves, but the cooking lifts the place into another dimension. There is a traditional Sunday lunch offering, but the more speculative contemporary food makes weekdays equally popular with readers. Locally grown purple artichokes are served alla giudia, a Roman Jewish deep-fried treatment that produces a crisply seared surface on a creamy, bittersweet inner texture – not to be missed in their season. When did you last eat a fantail squid? Here they are, hauled in from Brixham and served with new season's peas for textural contrast. For main course, there might be a satisfying fish dish such as hake with pepper dulse and Jersey Royals, while meats offer locally farmed Tamworth pork belly with hispi cabbage or lamb shoulder with broad beans and – of all the things to come upon in Ancoats – nasturtiums. A whopping great pie of Ryeland lamb shank should provide plenty of sustenance for a hungry pair of diners. Seasonal fruits make the dessert list a welcome recourse, whether it be strawberry fool and elderflower cream or Yorkshire rhubarb sorbet with a brandy-snap.

The triple-decker delights of the original 'Black Cat' seem almost quaint given chef-patron Simon Shaw's subsequent adventures in Manchester and beyond. But King Street's top-floor terrace, open kitchen on the middle floor and darkling street-level tapas bar offer both a whisper of glamour and a reliable hand in the kitchen; years of in-house experience with solid Spanish ingredients pays off handsomely on the plate.

Charcuterie boards are all killer, no filler, with sweet notes provided by orange-blossom honey and quince jelly, while tapas are characterised by rich saucing and plenty of punch – try the chicken thighs with mojo picón, the smoky grilled lamb skewers accompanied by butter bean houmous and harissa yoghurt or hispi cabbage with parsnip purée and Picos Blue vinaigrette. For zing, look to chargrilled octopus with new potatoes, capers and shallots, plus a glass of white Rioja from the Iberian-led wine list.

For afters, crema catalana is a classic, likewise Basque cheesecake with Turrón sauce; alternatively, dip into the Euro-accented orange bomb with white chocolate mousse, orange coulis and honeycomb. Note that amiable service can be administered in Spanish, if required.

Reopened in January 2025 after a seasonal refit that brought an extension to the kitchen and a revamped bar area, Erst retains its industrial-chic styling – and still fits seamlessly into the regenerated Ancoats district as a reliable and often inspiring local resource. Patrick Withington is a confirmed exponent of the small-plates approach, and much of what the kitchen turns out is surprising, ingeniously constructed and founded on excellent prime materials. Even the salads score highly for lively mixtures of flavour – witness castelfranco leaves offsetting the creaminess of Corra Linn (a hard sheep's cheese from Lanarkshire), with pear and walnuts in support.

The flatbread that arrives well lubricated with beef fat and scattered with flakes of dried Turkish urfa chilli fully deserves the legendary status it has acquired. Tema artichoke with fermented celeriac in barigoule broth showed a delicate approach to winter warming at our visit, while the skewered lamb coated in ras el hanout butter (another established favourite) was as spicily and fragrantly satisfying as ever. By contrast, skate wing in sherry seemed a clash of mistimed elements, but a dessert of olive-oil cake with ricotta ice cream and candied citron is still a good bet for those who have wearied of salty caramel.

Natural wines are the hot ticket among the drinks, and it's worth gleaning some advice from your server about what goes best with what. Before you get embroiled, though, consider the house aperitif, which might involve celery liqueur and apple shrub in a productive liaison with gin and house vermouth.

Swans in the middle of Manchester! Who would have thought? But Flawd is on the New Islington Marina, a network of canals and water basins now home to barges and wildfowl, new apartments, green spaces and walkways. The feel is Dutch or Scandinavian, enhanced by a fine-weather terrace. It’s a suitable setting for a contemporary bottle shop, wine bar and sharing-plate eatery of restricted size with a buzzy atmosphere, enthusiastic staff and a funky playlist. As soon as you walk in, you know it’s a place in which to have fun.

The blackboard menu changes regularly and features local and regional ingredients such as Lancaster smoked mackerel, Garstang Blue cheese and ‘big dollops’ of outstanding sourdough bread from neighbouring bakery Pollen. Charcuterie is from Curing Rebels in Brighton, however, although who cares about regional pedantry when it’s this good?

This place has pedigree, and it shows: flair and imagination define the largely plant-focused cooking, which goes big on flavour. Unctuous whipped split-pea dip might be paired with fermented kale or spring onions, while stewed autumn tomatoes are served with ‘nduja and garlic toast. Elsewhere, grilled romanesco is paired with goat’s curd and treviso (‘a deliciously earthy combo’), and assorted brassicas are heaped with autumnal chestnut mushrooms and topped with shavings of cured ox heart (like ‘poor people’s truffle’).

The word Flawd refers to an 18th-century term meaning ‘drunk’, which is fitting as they major on natural and low-intervention wines from small producers. It’s also a trick to disabuse drinkers of the perception that such wines are ‘flawed’. With a range of styles by the glass, it’s easy to delve into this brave new world – and if that lacks appeal, there’s also an excellent choice of craft beer. Note: there are no reservations and no desserts. A flaw, perhaps, but not a fatal one.

Although it occupies a listed 19th-century courthouse, Hawksmoor Manchester is really more of a banker. It's been making reliability sexy since 2015, when diners first trod the parquet floor, enjoyed the touch of green leather and squinted at a blackboard offering some of the the best steak in town. The clubby look and low-lit bar belie a mixed crowd, which includes babes in arms and a significant youth contingent drawn by a good-value lunch and early-evening deal. Highlights include the heritage tomato salad – a glorious, glistening pile of zebra-striped toms and crumbled Graceburn cheese with saline, wafer-thin toast and loads of black pepper.

Then, of course, there's the triumphantly multi-hyphenate beef: British-bred, grass-fed, dry-aged and 'really-delicious'. Informed advice on cuts and cooking are there for those who want it and, from a long list of sides, there are triple-cooked chips (cleverly spritzed with salt and vinegar before they leave the kitchen) as well as nuggety Stichelton hollandaise, bone-marrow gravy and, for those with real commitment and determination, mac and cheese. Puddings tend towards the robust, but with seasonal touches; sorrel granita with a strawberry cheesecake, or a scoop of peach-leaf ice cream.

Sunday lunch is a big hitter, built around a whole rump of 35-day aged beef served with a spectacular array of extras and  accompaniments including gorgeous bone-marrow gravy. Lovely service is a given – staff have one setting and it's 'moodbooster extraordinaire'. To drink, expect a range of beers (some local) and a fabulous cocktail selection, as well as plenty of big, beefy wines; prices start around £40 and rise to stratospheric four-figure heights.

A block or two from Piccadilly Gardens, Higher Ground is run by a triumvirate who met while working at Blue Hill at Stone Barns in Pocantico Hills in New York State. They have now rocked up at the corner of an office building in, naturally, New York Street, to bring up-to-the-minute bistro food to a vanguard gastronomic city. Much of what comes into the kitchen is supplied by their own farm Cinderwood, a market garden smallholding in Cheshire, and its vivid intensities of flavour inspire chefs and diners alike. Eaten in a bright, spacious airport-style space, with counter seating as well as tables, the result is dishes that you will want to share, rather than merely being told that you have to. Green pea and spring garlic fritters enriched with Isle of Mull Cheddar won't touch the sides, and there are pedigree cured meats such as 12-month air-dried culatello or the cannily sourced salami taormina from Curing Rebels of Brighton. Fish cookery is of the first water: Scottish turbot with grilled lettuce, spring onions and basil is perfect with a side order of waxy Marfona potatoes dressed in roasted yeast and smoked butter. Desserts are, surprisingly, of a more delicate persuasion than puds and cheesecake. Try house-cultured yoghurt with preserved gooseberry and bay leaf, or milk ice cream given a little fairground pizzazz with chocolate malt fudge. Speciality bottled ales from the English regions are a plus point, and wine-drinkers can be sure their tipple will have been left to its own devices as far as possible, turning burnt orange for Ardèche Marsanne or abashed pink for Sicilian rosato. House fizz is a Crémant de Limoux.

Gary Usher's burgeoning bistro empire includes this Didsbury venue, where small clothless tables and a wall of exposed brick serve notice that there is to be no standing on ceremony. Lunchtime and weekday early evenings offer tremendous value for a well-constructed spread that might open with black olive and tomato arancini in salsa verde, and proceed via rigatoni with a hearty bolognese-style ragù under lemon and thyme pangrattato to walnut praline ice cream in espresso syrup. The complimentary home-baked focaccia is 'a great touch' too. Big flavours are also in evidence throughout the main menu: gin-cured sea trout is brightened up with pomelo and endive salad, while the fatty richness of confit duck leg is offset by port-braised red cabbage, parsnip purée and pickled walnut, with a prune-laced sausage to boot. Children's menus are virtually as nourishing as their grown-up counterparts, and the whole family can come together over chocolate 'oblivion' with mint choc-chip ice cream – although the prospect of an Eccles cake, made with dry-aged beef fat and served the traditional way alongside a wedge of Appleby's Cheshire cheese, is hard to resist. Wine nights are a feature, when a five-course menu is accompanied by thoughtfully chosen pairings.

A power move across multiple courses, Mana is the home of the heavy culinary flex. It's not just about the money (although at around £175 for 13 courses, it is inevitably somewhat about the money). The double-height space, monolithic open kitchen and white-hung windows, drawing a veil between Mana and the rest of Ancoats, are robustly impressive; so, too, is the commitment to obscure grains and the fondness for conjuring palate cleansers with koji mould – if you like that sort of thing. A serving of turnip and lemon thyme broth provides a 'lovely welcome', ahead of a roll call of 'intricate, interesting, complex food'. Snacks are served at the bar and in the kitchen (including a delicate cep and Jerusalem artichoke tartlet, eaten at the pass), and these are succeeded by some real moments of triumph – from sensational laminated onion bread with ethical foie gras to loveable Scottish lobster, carved with surgical precision and served with preserved truffle and verbena in a kintsugi bowl. Hogget is barbecued 'perfectly pink' and paired to great effect with the richness of a young miso sabayon, although it makes an unwelcome return in a petit four of parsley root and hogget fat. There are also missteps in flavours that are 'occasionally, perhaps, too strong', such as the pool of (unripe) habanero chilli sauce surrounding prime, but sadly overwhelmed, pieces of tuna. Service can feel stiff and one-sided, especially when it comes to an otherwise 'very good' wine pairing – although when enthusiasm for what's being served peeks through, things can soften a notch.

Since the aroma of fresh croissants first wafted from the ovens of the original bakery in Ancoats, Pollen has established something of a cult status in Manchester for its quality viennoiserie and sourdough loaves. A second, larger outpost at the Kampus development in the Piccadilly area is a serene, putty-hued space looking onto a lush courtyard garden where you can linger over a lunch of BBQ mushrooms on toast with celeriac and salsa verde or Jerusalem artichoke soup with herb butter. The counter also advertises a handsome selection of sweet treats: our surprisingly delicate matcha cheesecake was a sure sign of the pastry team's skills. 

Pulp's wooden hut, like a miniature modernist ski chalet, is located in the newly designated NOMA neighbourhood between Manchesater's Victoria Station and Shudehill; it's a micro-oasis of greenery and good coffee. There’s even a board listing all the birdlife that’s spotted in the area. The rotating roster of roasters gives added interest to your daily brew but, be warned, it’s outdoor seating only. There are usually home-baked muffins and excellent croissants too. 

It's hard to spot the location and the muted signage of this small restaurant in a parade of shops on the edge of a fast-moving, heavy-duty arterial dual carriageway. Note that parking is limited, but a nearby Metro stop encourages alternative access. A few modern posters and prints, a large mirror, some pot plants and a lively buzz give Stretford Canteen a homely if rather utilitarian feel. A blackboard lists daily specials but the actual menu gives no indication of the size of the plates – price should be your guide. For one regular, it's a 'shining light in a small suburb that needs and deserves a reliable, high-quality restaurant.'

While sharing is the name of the game, the overall style is traditional French bistro. They’ve rightly kept popular dishes such as deep-fried panisse fingers with tarragon mayo, and a concern for provenance shows in ingredients such as Isle of Wight tomatoes or Curing Rebels saucisson. Otherwise, the main menu roams from charred baby gem with beurre noisette and capers or oyster mushrooms with vermouth, tarragon and potato pavé to pork shoulder with fennel choucroute and mustard or pan-fried trout with chickpeas and rouille. There's also a generous serving of ex-dairy beef sirloin au poivre, cooked medium-rare, with plenty of savoury depth and texture.

Those wanting something quick during the day can also drop by for buckwheat galettes, French toast, croques and bowls of French onion soup. A short wine list shines the spotlight on French regional producers, with occasional forays into Germany and Spain. And, finally, praise is due to the little publicised fact they have fed a local homeless man for years – happily now off the streets. 

Trendy and woke are epithets sometimes slung at this popular Manchester suburb that has graduated from student central to young family middle-class enclave. Amid the buzzing bars and eating places, the Jane Eyre fits in just fine. A sibling of the original in Ancoats, it’s a bar with ‘plates’ – casual and friendly. The wine list is noteworthy, the cocktails innovative, and the staff super-helpful. The food, however, can be patchy, but if you’re happy with a plate of freshly fried tempura prawns with smoked chilli jam and a glass of fruity Cab Sauv, then come and join in the community vibe.

A loyal local crowd ensures regular full houses at this upbeat suburban seafood eatery, which comes complete with an overspill heated terrace out front. The day’s catch is given a full-on global workout as the kitchen doles out a regularly changing repertoire of capable, well-timed dishes ranging from chargrilled octopus with baba ganoush and batata harra (Lebanese spicy potatoes) to classic lemon sole meunière or a Goan curry of pan-roasted stone bass. Decent sides, accompaniments, dips and affordably priced wines complete the picture. There’s an offshoot on Stanley Square, Sale.

'A taste of Alpine cuisine, but better than restaurants in the Alps,' confirms a well-travelled reporter with a penchant for fighting talk, and if it seems a stretch from the rarefied peaks of central Europe to Manchester's Green Quarter, be assured that the spätzle, dumplings and filled pasta parcels have survived the journey intact.

Not the least reason the Spärrows has been such a firm local favourite of Mancunians is that there is so much going on here, from winemakers' lunches to sake tastings. It's in those perfectly rendered little parcels of happiness, though, that the culinary energy is focused. Spätzle or gnocchi come with a range of sauce options, from sage butter to guanciale and egg yolk, before the menu heads east for pierogi and pelmeni, with lashings of sour cream and garlic breadcrumbs to complement their richly meaty fillings. Sharing boards of cured meats, smoked fish or cheeses will hone the fastest-finger-first skills of a hungry bunch, and if it's the back end of the year, look to Tyrolese goulash with knöpfle and pickles to bring the love.

To finish, there is an estimable brownie attributed to 'Daz's wife' or carpaccio-sliced pineapple with sorbet, and what is probably the banker – cinnamon spätzle in a cloud of brown sugar. Alpine wines are on hand to suit the mood, and if you have previously thought of all Swiss whites as a cleansing mouthful of nothing in particular, you might find yourself thinking again.

'Good service and a really enjoyable space' distinguish TNQ in a changing neighbourhood. Our correspondent also loves its genuinely seasonal menus, which deliver real variety year-on-year (think bistro-style dishes such as slow-roasted pork belly with crackling and black pudding wontons). And the kitchen doesn't skimp on the attention to detail required to produce proper chips. When you walk into this easy-going corner spot 'you just know everything will be fine'.