COMFORTABLE in its own skin now, that’s Tattu. A year on from launching as the only body art-inspired restaurant I can recall it is offering culinary substance as well as style on the evidence of our early evening midweek dinner.
It may well be a different party animal over a cocktail-fuelled weekend when the sound system ramps up and it justifies its perception as a footballer/Wag magnet. Across our half-full upstairs dining room I thought I recognised a United star with his family. How? He was pushing his food sideways across the plate – Jamie Vardy would have gobbled it up in a flash (we’re all on the Leicester bandwagon now).
Exec chef Clifton Muil has been tinkering with the menu, introducing new dishes but keeping to that Hakkasan style Chinese fusion template. It reads well and, mostly, tastes well. Oh, and it looks like art on a plate.
We started inevitably with a selection of small plate, none of which disappointed.
Steamed prawn and chive gau (£7) with a hint of chilli were a counterpoint to the savoury umamu of Wagyu beef dumplings with kimchi and spring onion (£12).
Freshness kicked in with a delicate scallop ceviche with mango, cucumber and lime (£12) served on the shell and, my favourite a salad tangle of wasabi-tinged white king crabmeat with radish (£14).
Keen to sample new dishes we added soy and orange butter chicken, Szechuan salt and lily bulb (£15) to our two two fish mains. It’s basically a riff on duck a l’orange, the lily bulb adding texture but overwhelmed by the citrus.
The pan-fried whole Szechuan sea bass (£25) was relatively restrained on the spicing but was over-cooked to fluffiness. In contrast that fusion stalwart black cod was creamily flaky, accompanied by a razor clam and lardons of lap cheong sausage (£27.50) – a lovely dish.
Not unexpectedly given the conceptual art bent of the place, desserts are the most intricate confections on the menu. Two of them were fabulous, one a physical struggle.
Chocolate fondant with a peanut ice cream was much the most straightforward, dark and gooey, while The Silk Road was a gorgeous procession of mango and lychee, jellies, petals, crumbs and squiggles of meringue on a long plate.
All The Tea in China, served astride a pot of belching dried ice, is meant as a berry and fruit homage to the beverage, but fruit stuck stiffly to the inside of the pot and I gave up on it.
Each pud costs a fair £8 but with two cocktails, a £38 bottle of decent Petit Chablis the whole meal for two (admittedly with one extra main) would hav topped £200. This is a substantial investment in a work of art that you can’t take home – or have engraved on your backside for all eternity – but Tattu does have the feel of a special occasion place. Despite Manchester’s culinary resurgence there are very few of them about.
Tattu, 3, Hardman Square, Gartside St, Manchester M3 3EB. 0161 819 2060.
