IT’S a dough eat dough world out there with rival pizza purveyors Honest Crust (Mackie Mayor), Rudy’s, Dough and Ply all within rolling distance of NQ newcomers Noi Quattro. How much more pizza can we handle?
Still their handsome premises off High Street certainly look the part with a brace of gleaming tiled pizza ovens specially imported from Italy, birthplace of friends Elisa, Alberto, Daniele and Paolo (Noi Quattro means ‘the four of us’) whose Pasta Factory on Shudehill has earned such plaudits over the past couple of years.
So it was surprise that our first visit proved such a car crash. More Audi Quattro than Noi. Such a ragged experience that we’ll put it down to major teething problems and not hand out a scored review, as intended.
Initial greeting was warm. We were seated next door to the table with swinging seats (occupied by two lasses sharing a bottle of Prosecco) and all was jolly. A 15 minute wait to place an order wasn’t so. Our own eventual wine choice was a bottle of Tuscan Vermentino (£22), mega-floral, slightly neutral on the palate but very refreshing. It was screwcapped, so we were bewildered to see our server scraping the seal with a corkscrew blade; we took over, twisted it open and let her pour.
Once ordered, our pizzas appeared swiftly. After all it was a quiet lunchtime and 90 seconds is the maximum it takes to bake the dough in searing woo-fired heat. So why were both lukewarm on arrival?
Strange since they had that appealing brown mottled crust and, if the bases under the topping were not crisp, well that is the authentic Neapolitan way. Nor argument either with the generosity or quality of ingredients.
My Dalla Dispensa (£11 offered fior di latte, san marzano tomatoes roast ham, artichokes, mushrooms and olives, while across the table the signature Noi Quattro (£11) was draped in Parma ham with rocket and parmesan shavings. Both were sprinkled with extra virgin olive oil. We determined to et them quickly.
Then the cones arrived and we were torn. Nature surely intended (and we expected) these ‘cuoppi’, fritti filled paper cones to serve as appetisers not accompaniments? As it was, the various fried tidbits of the Cuoppo di Mare (£6) and Cuppo di Terra (£4.50) took their own turn to cool down as we wolfed pizza.
Along the Spaccanapoli main drag in Naples’ Centro Storico these are perfect piping hot snacks, even the potato doughnuts called zeppoline, dull and stodgy here. Deep-fried white bait and salt cod alsotasted of little and the battered zucchini flowers could have been anything. Hugely disappointing.
For the moment Rudy’s and Honest Crust have nothing to fear. Let’s hope that Noi Quattro swiftly gets up to speed. We need all the indies we can get.
Noi Quattro, 120 High Street, Manchester M4 1HQ. 0161 834 9032.