At 7.45pm on a Wednesday, every table in Bar San Juan on Chorlton’s Beech Road is taken. The tiny kitchen behind the bar is slammed, the order checks stretching the length of it, and flames licking up from the grill.
Spanish is the only language being spoken, and loudly, while the telly plays Spanish TV - there are some dancing ponies, the Spanish answer to QVC and the weather. It’s 39 degrees in Cordoba this weekend.
There’s nothing much to suggest you’re not in a neighbourhood bar in Seville. Even down to the square napkin dispensers on every table and the little paprika tins filled with small forks for your tapas.
