13 December 2010

Neil Sowerby finds his cheery inner gondolier at Cicchetti, even if it’s never going to offer the authentic tang of backwater Venice....

Cheerio, cheerio, cheerio. What the football crowds bay at a sent-off superstar during his long trudge to the tunnel. It seemed rather apt that our waiter at Cicchetti was called Ciro (confusingly the popular canned tomato brand is called Cirio) since footballers seemed to occupy our peripheral vision at every turn. Chatting amiably to us at our window table was Morton Gamst Pedersen of Blackburn Rovers, a long time regular at San Carlo now making himself at home in its “Italian tapas��? offshoot on the ground floor of House of Fraser.

Across the road at Carlo Distefano’s mothership, gawpers gathered the moment fellow Rover El Hadji Diouf’s supercar docked outside the restaurant. I’m not big on cars but his silver machine made the Batmobile looked like a second-hand Skoda. Amazingly all this action was not distracting from the seriously tasty food on offer in a seriously marbled interior. Ciro may be a Neapolitan (the city, not the tiered ice cream) but the dishes he was delivering with typical San Carlo slickness paid homage to all regions of Italy.

There’s the rub in a way. It’s not delivering literally on the title. Cicchetti (pronounced almost like chick-lit) are specifically Venetian tidbits served in bars across that increasingly submarine city. This unreconstructed gondoliers’ nosh has been the hit of the past year just off Shaftesbury Avenue. That makes it sound depressingly like that Phantom of the Opera follow-up, yet Polpo has been luring foodies to Soho’s Beak Street in droves for its Lagoon-driven take on bar grazing.Recently Polpo (it means octopus) has spawned Polpetto, also in Soho, and its tentacles have certainly grabbed San Carlo heir apparent Marcello Distefano in his family’s latest venture (Jay Rayner was very kind about the new Leeds San Carlo in the Observer recently, by the way).

A cynical friend, resistant to the whole San Carlo buzz – it’s apparently among the country’s highest grossing dining spots – dismissed Cicchetti’s menu as standard San Carlo dishes served in smaller portions. There’s an element of that, but also a feeling of freshness beyond the hype. Seasonal specials (think chestnuts and mushrooms at the moment), a home bakery and a fresh produce stall with thrice-weekly deliveries from Milan Market give a decidedly deli look to the end of the long bar.

And it’s without all the branding that bedevils Jamie Oliver’s Jamie’s Kitchen chain, a branch of which arrives at the top of King Street next year. Let battle commence. In truth, though, the kind of all-day dining, with breakfast being served until 10.30am, in gracious if slightly over-bright surroundings more resembles in its scope London’s swanky Wolseley.

Young Marcello is happy to admit their all things Italian to all men – and Ladies who Lunch –approach, with a full English thrown in. Blackboards explain San Daniele ham and Sicilian arancini (the Distefanos hail from that harsh land) for those punters eager to venture beyond the macaroni and margherita comfort zone. Purist heavy Venetian fare was never going to work in this city centre brasserie. Marcello is quite transparent about that. Then, following prosecco and a couple of restorative oysters a first dish of chicken liver and chestnut crostini (£3.20) confounds expectation with its earthy unctuousness.

Sharing platters (from £9 to £14) come as Terra, Mare and Montagne (earth, sea and mountain). Montagne a fondue, no less from the Val d’Aosta tempted us but Terra was less sticky, offered and abundance of curly fresh-cut cured meats. Launch chef Francesco Guarracino is handing over the reins to the decidedly un-Italian John Thompson, legendary chef for decades at 39 Steps. Don Tommo’s Pollo Chianti (£6.20) showcased the seasonal chestnuts in a red wine sauce Tuscan-style, while the dense piccante salsiccia sausage (£5.20) showcased the Sicilian chilli tolerance.

A breadcrumbed scallop gratin (£5.25) was a slighter dish. The mountain cheeses among the specials board were unavailable, so it was an altogether more mundane selection that convinced us to indulge in a second bottle of Barbera d’Asti Vespa, a beguiling mix of vanilla and spice lifting some tart red fruit. A beautiful food wine for £29.95 off a wine list that offers a grand Italian tour without visiting the grand and expensive masterpieces on the San Carlo list. Lots of good stuff by the glass. I noticed too late a couple of Italian craft beers from the Amarcord brewery. Next time then... and there certainly will be. It’s arrivederci not cheerio, Ciro.

San Carlo Cicchetti, King Street West, Manchester, 0161 834 6226www.sancarlocicchetti.co.uk