27 January 2010

Neil Sowerby

There are always questions left unasked when you are reviewing a restaurant. In the worst case scenario, the big one: ‘Whatever possessed you to think you could run one, mine host?’ Or, gulp, ‘Why DID chef braise the goat’s liver in Vimto and serve it with salted prunes in a plastic basket?’ Natural discretion, with a resolve never to return, usually keeps the critic’s lip buttoned.

Aumbry’s previous (and quietly successful) incarnation was as an eaterie called Fetish For Food. I always fancied turning up with leather accessories and piercings to ask them drolly: ‘Surely you are Foot for Fetish?’ and see what effect. Now that’s never going to happen because Laurence Tottingham and Mary Ellen McTague have taken over the cottagey site just off Bury New Road and renamed it Aumbry. The question for them is: why call an aspirational bistro with amazing food after the repository for chalices in a medieval church?

I meant to query it but was distracted by the epic temptations of their virgin tasting menu (nothing kinky there, it was newly introduced that night and we were the first to try).
Serving up nine courses (plus a tiny pillow of duck liver parfait as an amuse gueule) certainly kept the husband and wife team, plus sous chef, occupied in their Lilliputian open kitchen. The pair are accustomed to a crush, having been part of the 40-strong batterie at Heston Blumenthal’s Fat Duck. The world-renowned restaurant in Bray, Berkshire, also occupies a converted cottage or two with a tiny kitchen.

Hence the Great Guru Heston’s first floor laboratory is in a conversion 50 yards way. Crammed underneath prepping away madly are his chef team (one for every privileged punter, just about). I know all this stuff because – declaring an interest – I saw it first hand before dining at the legendary Michelin three star with Mary Ellen and her then boss at Ramsons in Ramsbottom, Chris Johnson. Scoffing snail porridge and bacon and egg ice cream with an expert first hand commentary – it doesn’t get much better!

There’s nothing so wacky on the plate at Aumbry, just come consummate cooking and great value (especially at lunchtime). When Bury lass Mary Ellen and Lawrence initially returned north it was to work for Paul Heathcote, but it was always their intention to open their own restaurant. A young child, who arrived en route must add to the pressure now they have achieved their aim.

Aumbry is a triumph of taste on a tight budget. This is not an easy restaurant space. The upstairs bar – where we succumbed to the freshly printed nine-course tasting menu at £45 rather than go a la carte, with mains hovering around the £15 mark – is quite spartan.
The 28-cover restaurant downstairs is much cosier. I like the regency cream and gold wallpaper, a tad at odds with the white-painted rustic chairs. Service was charming as was some creative crockery mixing and matching, and multiple cutlery switches to accommodate the tasting menu.

It was a terrific showcase for what Mary Ellen and Laurence can achieve. Direct clean tastes, little over complication, an absence of foam factor and teetering towers. Just a couple of quibbles. Dish three was their signature dish; quail’s egg wrapped in Bury black pudding to create a scotch egg and very lovely it is, too, with its swirls of mushroom relish and home-made tomato ketchup. Two of the little darlings was generous but one too many, the only over-facing moment in the parade of tight little dishes.

Pacing, very important in such an exercise, was judged to perfection until a large gap before dish six, roast mallard, ostensibly the main dish. The pink duck breast slices, rare but meltingly tender, were accompanied classically by braised leg meat parcelled up in a savoy cabbage leaf. We waited a good 20 minutes, necessitating further investment in the house red, a Ca di Ponti Nero d’Avola from Sicily, attractively priced at £12.95, like its white stablemate, the Catarratto. The list, as a whole, is a modest yet well-chosen one, the most expensive bottle a Monte Real Gran Reserva Rioja for £49.95.

Stand-out dishes included a cup of densely dreamy celeriac soup scattered with toasted chestnut; poached wild sea bass fillet of a glorious texture in a chive broth with a sublime lick of truffled potato on the side; a cute cure of home smoked mackerel with fennel and cranberry; a fan of seven Irish and British cheeses, all at just the right degree of ripeness.
And almost the best to the last, on the final lap we got a benchmark treacle tart, ethereal golden syrupy, accompanied masterfully by tiny cubes of sharp lemon jelly and a Earl Grey cream.

Ms Fussy across the table couldn’t handle the sweetened chai-style tea (Earl Grey, too? Another question I should have asked) that came with it, but I liked the playfulness. It was the culmination of one of the most accomplished meals I’ve had in years. Like fellow far-flung independents Ramsons or Damson in Heaton Moor, it is flying the flag for serious restaurant cooking in difficult times. This Aumbry is worth worshipping.

Aumbry
2 Church Lane, Prestwich, Manchester, M25 2DB
Tel: 0161 798 5841
Wed-Sat 12:00-14:30 & 19:00-21:30
Sun 12:00-16:00