The Black Friar, 41-43 Blackfriars Road, Salford M3 7DB (0161 667 9555). Starters and small plates £5–£15; mains £15–£38; desserts £8–£9; wines from £25 a bottle
Viewed from the air, the Black Friar in Salford could look a little like Charlie Bucket’s rackety family home in the original movie of Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. It’s a humble old redbrick Victorian building of just two storeys, hemmed in by towering grey stone and steel apartment blocks. It seems to be an afterthought – the corner site that no one thought to develop. And indeed, it was empty and derelict, staring blank-eyed out over the dual carriageway for 15 years. Twice, fires ripped through it. Then the building was refurbished and pressed into service as the marketing suite for the handsome newbuilds going up around it.
Now it’s a pub once more. Step through the corner entrance and it looks much as you would expect: wood floors, a stove with logs stacked on either side, squishy armchairs. It’s a riot of Victoriana lite. There’s Boddingtons, Beavertown and Seven Brothers Easy IPA on draught. But look closer. It quickly becomes clear the original redbrick building has been subsumed into the development around it. There are light and airy modern extensions in all directions. Floors are tiled in a dizzying black and white. Dining rooms with plateglass windows lead down to a space with an open kitchen and shelves stacked with pots of brilliant red-leafed poinsettias. There are patios strung with fairy lights.
Keep all that in mind. For this is clearly now a local boozer with a particular locality in mind: the Spectrum development of which it is now a part. After a long day working at the very cutting edge of modern media communications, or whatever it is the denizens of these tidy apartments do, they might peer down upon the pub from their eyrie and decide they can’t be fagged to cook and will instead come down here, to drop £50 a head on dinner.
The chef, Ben Chaplin, comes from the glossy 20 Stories in Spinningfields. Don’t therefore expect the food to be confined to essence of British pub. Originally, there were two menus: a casual grazing job for lunchtimes, and then something altogether fancier for the evenings. Coincidently, on the very day I turn up, they have merged them. What you now get is a hybrid. There are pies and terrines and fish and chips from the boozer side of the ledger, and altogether grander things involving truffles and champagne from the fat-walleted end. When I get on to those prices some of you may wish to start curling your noses like the Catherine Tate characters Janice and Ray while shouting, “And this! In Salford! The dirty robbing bastards.” Get it out of your system now. This is an ambitious pub in a Greater Manchester which is evolving quickly.
What matters is that the cooking is big and bullish and, for the most part, on point. A slab of boar and pheasant terrine has just the right balance of fat to meat. It’s robustly seasoned and has been allowed to come to room temperature, so that the flavours haven’t been murdered by fridge chill. It’s a testament to the charcutier’s craft. Alongside is a warm brioche roll flecked with truffle and a bold chutney of walnut and pear. If you’re going to pay £10 for a terrine, you want it to look like this.
From the shiny restaurant side of things come big fat scallops. Two are seared to that gorgeous golden brown that shouts, “Eat me! Eat me now!” The third is crusted in a black garlic crumb so that it looks not unlike a giant truffle. Then you cut in to find the pearly white. They sit on a velvety white garlic purée, scribbled through with a parsley jelly that has started to melt in the languorous warmth. This is serious cookery: both profoundly beautiful and profoundly eatable. Any bit of the brioche left over from the terrine is quickly pressed into service.
There’s a daily pie. The pie liberationists will be pleased to know that it is very much a single item, clad from top to toe in crumbly, flaky puff. Pie purists will agree that if you can’t throw it across a room with one hand, it’s not a pie. This is a pie. Today it’s stacked to the lid with braised chicken and leek and very good it is, too. On the side is a heap of proper mash, crunchy green beans and a jug of hot gravy, which I sip. I tell myself I am doing this for professional reasons, though obviously sipping gravy should be a thing. It is rich and sticky and meaty; the sort you’ll be licking off your lips for hours to come even when it’s long gone. The £17 price tag is on the enthusiastic side. By comparison, the pies at the Windmill in London’s Mayfair cost £16, while, as Janice and Ray might point out, we really are on the edge of a dual carriageway in Salford.
A dish of turbot with smoked eel choucroute, champagne velouté and caviar is a brave £32. Turbot is an expensive fish, but for that money the cooking should be spot on. I find myself yearning for the brightness controls you get on an Instagram picture. The turbot, while sensitively cooked, has been heavily seasoned. There’s the dice of already salty smoked eel through the vinegared and shredded cabbage. The frothy champagne velouté is also heftily seasoned and then on top, more symbol of northwestern largesse than vital ingredient, is the spoonful of caviar. It doesn’t need to be there. There’s a very good dish indeed fighting to get out from underneath all this overkill. A side of roast squash under fistfuls of toasted seeds and spiced pine nuts ends up acting as a rather good foil to all the overwrought drama.
The dessert list includes the much-loved usual suspects: an apple and blackberry crumble, a sticky toffee pudding, a chocolate fondant. It’s reassuring for all that. We share a beautifully made bitter orange parfait, a gift to marmalade lovers everywhere, which comes with an open-crumbed olive oil cake, a little orange gel and a scoop of soothing labneh. As with everything we are served, even that misfire of a turbot dish, there is attention to detail here. The front-of-house team is well drilled, the drink options are broad and all the various spaces look very pretty indeed. I’d be rather chuffed if the Black Friar was my local. Instead, it’s the local for those now above it, living life at altitude.
News bites
The supermarket chain Asda is collaborating with the digital food brand and delivery company The Lean Kitchen Network to develop a new instore food counter, featuring what they call some of the “nation’s most loved brands”. What this means is a menu including Cheesy Wotsits Mac ’n’ Cheese and Doritos Loaded Nachos. This stunning victory for new product development will be rolled out to more stores in coming months, alongside a delivery option, should you want a Cheesy Wotsits Mac ’n’ Cheese to arrive at your door. As ever, I am only the reporter.
The chef Mitch Tonks, who has just launched a new range of quality tinned fish, has a second new venture. Rockfish Seafood at Home will enable customers to buy fish direct from Brixham market in Devon for delivery to their homes the next day. There will be information on what’s available from that day’s catch, unusual cuts rarely seen on fish counters, and instant alerts for specific catches coming in. You can sign up here, to get information on the new service, which launches in January.
The family owned company Modern Persian Kitchen, which delivers a wide range of Iranian dishes across the mainland UK from its base in Cleveland, is crowdfunding to raise £75,000 of investment so they can expand into events catering, cookery classes, supper clubs and more. Investors will be rewarded with equity in the company. modernpersiankitchen.co.uk
Email Jay at jay.rayner@observer.co.uk or follow him on Twitter @jayrayner1
