Stretford Canteen is found on the currently hard-to-love edge of Stretford Mall, or the Stretford Arndale as it’s known to locals. The gradually emptying shopping centre’s preeminent claim to fame is that Muhammad Ali turned up there to promote Ovaltine on October 12, 1971, almost causing a riot in Tesco in the process.
He'd not long faced Joe Frazier in the ring, but admitted to being 'scared' as he was besieged by frenzied Mancs with bad hair trampling each other to get a glimpse of him. Much has happened since then. Not all good. The mall lost its market hall, a good old fashioned greasy spoon and a classic flat roof pub, not to mention a very handy TJ Hughes. Even the Tesco has gone.
But the entire place, much like the development of Sale’s town centre down the road, is now on the cusp of a huge, multi-million pound investment from the council and led by developers Bruntwood, with the Canteen among the early vanguard of new businesses being brought in, alongside a General Store and food hall a few doors down.
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But whatever restaurants now arrive on or around the all-new ‘Stretford King Street’, chef Deb Burton, co-founder Josephine Sandwith, her husband Dean and even their daughter Eve, who works front of house, will have set the bar ridiculously high for everyone else.
Originally a supper club that took up residence at various spots all over South Manchester, the now static canteen continues its unfussy, straight-forward cooking, modern British but with ‘French-ish’ twists here and there. The room is smart and stylish, the art and posters on the walls achingly tasteful and the playlist trendy but not too trendy.
But, however smart and stylish it might be - it could easily and happily slot into any hipster neighbourhood in town - it’s still comfortingly homely. And that’s probably down to the food.
It all comes from pretty nearby, the vegetables in particular, from Glebelands in Sale. The meat is from Littlewoods in Heaton Chapel. The fish is from Fleetwood, but that’s a nod to Dean’s seaside upbringing, and otherwise it would be perch or tench from the Bridgewater Canal. No, ta very much.
First to arrive is a plate of radishes (£4). That’s it, just fresh radishes pulled from the ground, given a rinse and served with vinaigrette and a swipe of the canteen’s own whey butter. The butter isn’t necessary for me, I’d rather a pint glass of the sharp dressing, but it’s fresh and delicious. Eat the leaves too.
Then it’s a plate of plump silver anchovies (£4), marinated in vinegar, pretty as a picture, and served up with a slice of charred lemon to squeeze over. So far, so good, until a plate of panisse (£5) arrives with aioli, and then things kick up a notch. Panisse are thin fried croquettes made with chickpea flour - anything at all made with it is always somehow miraculously delicious, and these are no exception, scorching hot from the fryer, crisp outside and smooth like velvet inside.
All of these ‘bar snacks’, as they’re categorised, are dispatched quickly, with a very reasonable glass of sparkling ‘Blanquette de Limoux’ (£5) served in a decadent coupe, a glass that you could serve Vimto in - fizzy or otherwise - and still feel like you’re at a Mayfair drinks party.
The larger plates arrive, first a dish of home-cured mackerel (£9) with pickled fennel and a parsley salad, with a fresh, herby salsa underneath, the fish skin charred and torched. It’s simple and light and excellent. Also excellent is a generous bowl of new potatoes (£4), crushed and fried so that the edges go crisp, though they’re not quite salty enough. Easily sorted.
The star of the evening is chicken, with bay, garlic and white wine (£14.50). It’s brilliantly simple (there’s that word again); two golden chicken thighs, roasted perfectly with the bone in, like you’d do at home, but with a reduced, syrupy stock that you generally would not bother making at home, the result of boiling down roasted bones and wing tips for hours until you’ve got something deep, thick and concentrated, and which elevates what could be a basic dish to something very special indeed.
In the end, I’m picking up the thighs and gnawing off the last bits, and dragging the green beans through the last smears of sauce with my fingers not wanting to leave any behind. I don’t mind doing it, and I don’t think anyone there did either.
Stretford Canteen’s co-founder Josephine was just a baby when her parents opened the much-loved French bistro Beaujolais on Portland Place in town, back in the 80s. In fact, one of the dishes we have - the tomato farcie (£10); tomatoes stuffed with a pork and beef ragu, topped with bechamel sauce and baked - is from the restaurant’s original recipe book, and it’s a wonderful, wonderful thing, both in flavour and heritage.
Anyway, she’d be taken into work with them and plonked down in a baby-carrier. So it’s maybe no surprise at all that her own first proper restaurant feels a lot like home. Let’s all move in.
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