There is a definite chill in the air.
As the song goes, “all the leaves are brown and the sky is grey”. Winter is coming! And so it was a welcome sight when an invite to the Wednesday Supper Club at The Firehouse dropped into my inbox. The very idea of a supper club at a house of fire was warming and comforting in equal measure. With happy anticipation and a spring in my step, I set off to The Firehouse to warm my cockles.
The Firehouse. Photo by Robert Hamilton.
The Firehouse is on Manchester’s Swan Street, bordering Oldham Road and Mackie Mayor. I mention Mackie because it was my favourite Friday haunt where I feasted on rotisserie chicken and carafes of rosé. The rotisserie closed some years ago, replaced with a chicken burger bar. It was a slight and I have never found a lunch spot to replace it. The French were on to something roasting chickens over a spit and cooking potatoes in the dripping oils. A meal for for kings, though they had the good sense to get rid of theirs around the same time they invented restaurants.
At The Firehouse, the door opened and I was met with waft of warm air and a friendly welcome. Shown to my table, the interior was larger than I’d imagined – spacious and open with a DJ spinning ambient sounds and a long, well-stocked bar. Supper club suggests a more intimate space but when my chilled margarita arrived I settled into the atmosphere as the Wednesday Supper Club began to fill up. The crowd was young and hip, much as you’d expect from a cool hang-out in Manchester’s Northern Quarter. Part nightclub, part cocktail bar, part filling station. It was vibrant and exciting, even at six in the evening.
Image courtesy of The Firehouse
I ordered half a chicken. Cooked on open hot coals, it was charred to perfection and succulent. The peri peri sauce was on the right side of piquant while a side order of crushed roast potatoes with a summer truffle mayonnaise and Parmesan provided carbohydrate support. A couple of glasses of cold vinho verde gave the meal a distinctly Iberian feel.
For dessert, I had the Eton Mess. It should be a messy mixture of meringue, cream, strawberries and raspberries, but the additional orange and honey imbalanced the true flavour of the mess. And I would liked to have seen a dessert wine on the menu. It’s a dying art but I had a dessert wine recently that was so good it made me cry. Sommeliers take note.
All in all, it was a warm and satisfying experience. But my search for the perfect lunchtime rotisserie continues.
Main image: courtesy of The Firehouse
