I’ve been a bit quiet a bit lately; sorry about that. What passes for normal service should be resuming any time around now.

Having spectacularly failed to arrange anything for Valentine’s day this year, and figuring that there’s no way we’d get a restaurant booked for the Saturday on the Friday night, I decided to take Naomi out on Friday instead, to the very excellent Yang Sing in the centre of town (always a good way to get yourself out of trouble as the food is magnificent and it’s huge, so you’re pretty well guaranteed a table even at the last minute). Thanks to a couple of clumsy drunk German guys spilling Naomi’s glass of water across the table, we even got a free bottle of wine out of it. Excellent stuff.

On the subject of restaurants, I went to the best little restaurant in Manchester last night. I’m not going to tell you where it is, because then it’ll get popular and I’d never be able to get a table again, and that would be a tragedy. But it’s a wonderful place, a converted pub, serving a small menu of absolutely first-rate food for stupidly low prices (£8 for a main course on average – a meal for 4 came to less than £45 before drinks, including two starters and a cheeseboard, allegedly for one but three people couldn’t finish it). The place is actually owned by the head chef (a minor celebrity TV chef) who oversaw its conversion from city-centre pub to gastronomic sensation, and by my reckoning, in a month or two’s time, you won’t be able to get near the place.

Oh, alright then. It’s called The Bridge and it’s on Bridge Street, just off Deansgate. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.

Addendum
Oh, and to the scally bastards who put out the back window of my Dad’s car in the car park last night: I hope your testicles become enflamed and a horde of angry wasps sting your eyeballs. Scum.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 17th, 2004 at 3:55 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.