Neil Sowerby Two affordable, approachable far-eastern eateries revive the tastebuds in a period of moribund culinary activity. A warm welcome to Yuzu and Vnam...
AT the back of my store cupboard is secreted a phial of yuzu juice. Itâs a non-perishable remnant of my brief fling with cooking Japanese at home. That ambition floundered with the difficulty of getting fish that was spankingly fresh enough. Iâll eventually get round to chucking the seaweed scraps and jaundiced udon noodles beyond their use-by date, but Iâm sure I can find a fusion use for the yuzuâs intense citrussy tang. Maybe in an ice cream. Apparently the original fruit resembles a yellow clementine, the oilâs used in aromatherapy and thereâs a pop duo from Yokohama named after it.
Itâs also the name of Yuiâs child. Hence a more sentimental reason for the artfully homespun street corner cafe she has opened on Faulkner Street, always the more challenging culinary artery in Chinatown with the likes of Try Thai and Red N Hot further down the strip. Yuzuâs own challenge is to operate in the hinterland between ethereal sushi houses (it doesnât do raw fish), teppanyaki joints (thereâs no showbiz sizzling at your table here) and pan-Asian noodle behemoths like Wagamama or the rather better Tampopo.
The open plan kitchen occupies a sizeable chunk of what can be charitably described as a cosy space with maybe 25 covers max with rustic hewn wood furniture providing a solid, welcoming feel in contrast to the minimal decoration of scattered posters and a fan of bamboo pipes in the foyer. The welcome is warm, eager to please, the prices pitched well, but it is the quality of the food that impresses immediately. You are not getting the hyper-artful stylisations of high-end Japanese restaurants. This feels like the home-cooking of the provinces but exercised with finesse.
Yuzu, what else, provided the dressing for a salad of julienned (excuse my French) daikon radish, which we nibbled while awaiting our mains. It was one of ten side dishes priced between £1.50 and £3 in a mercifully short menu compared with its Chinatown neighbours. We also indulged in some Agedashi tofu, deep-fried with spring onions and ginger and a mustardy sauce (£3).
Shying away for standard-sounding noodle and rice selections,we each paid £8.95 for one of the âset menusâ, mains which included rice, miso soup and a garnish. Lots of deep-frying in breadcrumbs was going on. My companion went for the chicken version, Chicken Katsu, which came in clean tasting slices, while my salmon teryaki was classic richly marinated, very fresh fish. £1.50 for green tea and many re-fills accompanied. There is no licence.
The same applies at another family-run newcomer, the Vnam Cafe, though I am told they donât object to you bringing your own wine (we stuck with green tea again). In truth, from the outside it doesnât look like the kind of place that would boast a wine list. The presence on its menu of burgers and the like to capitalise on daytime trade from the Royal Mail depot across the road also suggests greasy spoon.
Donât let that put you off and youâll again discover a brief Vietnamese menu that breathes authenticity and shows no little skill. We giggled when the first thing we saw on the plastic menu was Goi Mang Thom Thit. Had a small bird been sacrificed in the creation of this dish? No, it was a king prawn, pork and bamboo shoot salad.
I did, though, order a slightly larger bird for my starter. Chim Cut Nuong (£6) was a quail that had been marinated in chilli lemongrass citrus, maybe fish sauce, then barbecued. My companion couldnât resist sharing this surprisingly substantial treat. We took it in turns to dip the smoky pieces in lemon black salt and gnaw at the fragile bones. Even more of a revelation was another shared dish, Goi Coun or Vietnamese summer rolls (£3 for 2 but they were large), served cold, their lacy membranes stuffed with pork and lettuce.
My partnerâs large fried savoury rice flour pancake, wrapping up more pork, shrimp and beansprouts, was substantial and substantially greasy, its accompanying spicy fish sauce glutinous and course. In contrast my vast bowl of Pho Bo, the Vietnamese national dish, was splashingly satisfying. Thin slices of beef and thin rice noodles mingled in a chilli-laced broth scented with star anise and any number of spices. As is customary, you ladle in fresh coriander and beansprouts from a side dish. With a combination of soup spoon and chopsticks â and Iâm a dab hand with both â it still took 20 minutes to devour. Outstanding stuff for £5.50.
The cafe still feels like a work in progress, but well worth the dreary walk up Oldham Road.
Yuzu, 39 Faulkner Street, Manchester, M1 4EE (07840 898 494, www.yuzumanchester.co.uk)
Vnam Cafe, 140 Oldham Road, Manchester, M4 6BG (0161 205 2700)
