It's funny what people rate as "good value" or as a "rip off" in these straitened times we're living. I've never heard so many moans about the price of a sausage at Manchester Christmas Markets this year, yet I've also never seen so many people out scoffing the £7 treat.
Meanwhile I was agog to discover last week that it can cost up to £50 a ticket to watch a Premier League football game, and yet thousands upon thousands head out to do that every weekend. I see plenty of moans on social media about the results, the team selection, the managers - but rarely about the price of the ticket.
Then there's the thousands of us who clamoured to buy Peter Kay tickets in October for the rather bargainous price of £35. Yet thousands more gritted their teeth and ended up spending up to FIVE times that price for the SAME TICKET on resale sites - just to be there at his big Manchester homecoming gigs.
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My point? That everyone has their own idea of what represents "good value", or what you're willing to pay for what you rate as "good time". Whether that be football, comedy, nights out, fine wine, fine food, a hot sausage at the Christmas Markets or maybe some nice clothes or a gym membership (well, it is January).
Bear this in mind as I regale you with my experience at Manchester's most expensive restaurant - the mighty Mana in Ancoats. A fine dining establishment where you are looking at paying £195 for the full main tasting menu.
Yes, I know that's an eye-watering sum of money. Can a meal out ever justify that figure? Well let me tell you straight off the bat that this was the best dining experience I've probably EVER had in Manchester, and undoubtedly my most exciting meal of 2022.
Mana, in the achingly cool Ancoats, is Greater Manchester's only Michelin Star restaurant and presided over by chef-patron Simon Martin. And from my experience here, operating at this kind of level, it could well be looking at a second star in the not-too-distant-future.
The Michelin Star is considered the foodie world's highest honour. Something that the world's top chefs spend years agonising over and aiming to win.
And once they get it (bestowed by the mysterious secret Michelin inspectors), they then face the agony and ecstasy of trying to retain it each year. All the while dreaming, pursuing, working towards the holy grail of a second, or third star.
The reason it holds such sway for an establishment? Because becoming a "Michelin Star restaurant" sets you apart from the rest - and places you into an elite sort of culinary space.
Getting the honour makes you a tourist attraction in your own right. Diners respect the Michelin Guide recommendations that much they are willing to travel the country, nay the world, just to dine at Star-rated places.
You can see the impact it's had for Mana since winning it in 2019, a restaurant so in demand that Friday and Saturday night sittings are sold out until the end of March - with a waiting list in place. Mid-week and lunch-time reservations are a little easier to secure.
But when you consider the entire restaurant space, a vast modern square based on Blossom Street in Ancoats, seats a maximum of 26 diners at a time you get an idea of why seats are at such a premium.
Taking a seat in the sleek, airy dining room you get to see the hive of activity taking place in the open kitchen. Chefs are based at individual stations creating the extraordinary elements required to put together a meal at this level of intricacy.
For make no mistake about it - this is culinary genius at work. It is food as mini works of art, science, or is it witchcraft? Works of impossible fusion of flavours that you didn't even know existed. Each plate boasting another extraordinary morsel - designed to seemingly tease your tastebuds in ways they've never, ever been touched before.
You don't get to choose your courses, and there's no menu presented to you on your arrival - you are entirely in the hands of the kitchen. You just have to take the leap of faith, and in my experience, it's richly rewarded.
Each plate is delivered to your table by the immaculate staff and chef team who give a little explainer while you sit, agog, at what's before your eyes. Afterwards I'm given a beautiful envelope with wax seal which contains all the information on what I've just eaten with more detailed description of ingredients like "cured egg yolk" and "verbena".
When you are presented with each course, and then get to eat it, it's quite simply a riot for the senses. They bring over what looks like an alien caterpillar - served with actual spruce sticking out of the plate - although I'm assured that bit is not for eating.
The space caterpillar is actually a Scottish langoustine speared on a metal instrument that I'm encouraged to stick in my mouth and grab off. It's sensational.
Then there's a Louet-Feisser oyster served with wasabi and dill - bright green and terrifying looking. Again, I'm told to just glug it down in one which I duly do. It's an explosion for the senses.
A little more settling is the sight of a slice of steak heading my way - although naturally to get to it I must negotiate a large wafer waft like an Autumn leaf that I had earlier seen chefs painstakingly create in sheets in the kitchen. The wagyu beneath it is exactly as this rich cut should be served - rare, oozing, literally melting in the mouth as if it's a cube of meaty butter.
It's at this point a little loaf of bread arrives. A bread unlike any other - slathered in lavender and honey, it's as if finally Mana has discovered what carbs were made for. Mana from heaven, if you pardon the pun.
Desserts look too pretty to eat, but eat I must at these prices. The Kakigori is a divine orb of matcha iced cream of some sort - flavoured with rose and sorrel.
The meal ends with another of the highlights of the menu - a dish described as "pear" - but appearing as a fluffed up sweet blob of what is described as "brown butter". It tastes how I imagine the pouffy cartoon body of the Michelin Man himself might actually taste, if he was made of marshmallow rather than tyres, that is.
I had the full menu at £195 but there's also the option of a reduced menu for £95 and there is a full vegeterian menu option - but beyond pre-confirmed dietary requirements and allergies you cannot change or alter your dishes on the night. Bear in mind these prices do not include drinks - for the matching wine flight you're looking at £140 at top so yes, I know, these are dizzying sorts of prices.
Naturally at this sort of price, it's not the sort of place many will feel able to go to once a week or even once a month. But as a special occasion restaurant Mana really is in a different league.
Having been fortunate enough to dine at a number of Michelin Star and two Michelin Star restaurants in the UK in recent years, I can honestly say that Mana sits equal in my mind to the experiences I've had at L'Enclume in Cumbria (which now holds three stars) and Moor Hall in Lancashire (holder of two stars).
But Mana has the added benefit of being in Manchester - within walking distance of major train stations, trams and buses rather than miles out in the middle of countryside. Which makes "taking the diversion" to attend here (as Michelin recommends) that little bit easier.
Personally, I would happily forego 27 sausages at the Christmas Markets, 4 visits to Manchester United or 5 more nights with Peter Kay to eat this meal again. Indeed I was so blown away I've already booked to go again later this year for a special occasion, and saving up my pennies to do so.
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