Evelyn’s Cafe Bar

The big revelation about Evelyn’s is that ‘Evelyn’ doesn’t actually exist. She’s – wait for it – a concept that embodies the beliefs of this Northern Quarter restaurant, our waitress explains. A manifestation of what the owners want their space to represent. I wager you’re as shocked as I am. What next? A weird ginger clown doesn’t actually run McDonalds?

Fictitious old ladies aside, Evelyn’s is a cute little space, smack dab in the centre of ‘the city’s thriving artistic community’, as every London-based journalist with access to Google likes to describe it. The thing is, Evelyn’s does actually represent the Northern Quarter of old – forward-thinking, creative, young and upbeat – before the property developers and money-hungry gentrifiers moved in.

Evelyn’s does actually represent the Northern Quarter of old – forward-thinking, creative, young and upbeat

The staff are wonderful. Welcoming and endlessly cheerful, with an idiosyncratic style and easy charm that suits the space beautifully. The menu is a simple mix of plates, large and small, complete with sides and sandwiches.

The KFC, aka Korean fried chicken, is a dazzling way to start things off. Soft chicken fillets, fried, fried and fried again, boasting a thick crackly coating, and resting on a fiery green chilli mayonnaise that gives off a deep satisfying heat rather than a cheap, painful burn. Korean fried chicken has become curiously modish of late, thanks to the crunch replacing the greasiness of typical fried chicken. And while some might say it’s merely a fancy rebrand to appease those too highfalutin to step food in a high street takeaway, it certainly has its place.

Failing that, the braised octopus is equally delicious, if not more so. It’s remarkable to look at: a long, sucker-studded whip of meaty seafood, darkly charred on the surface, tender and fleshy beneath. A grilled lemon half and a flattened base of gently seasoned hummus finish things off, offering up a complex combination of textures and comforting flavours.

For the large plates, the 25-day dry aged ribeye steak is a fine slab of meat, ordered rare and perfectly pink in the middle, but a hint more darkness on the surface would have lifted it to new heights. The chips are a delight. None of those piddly French fries here, these are handcut chips like your mum used to make, wilting gently but thick and fluffy inside, with a wonderfully salty coating. If you’re a chip connoisseur, you’ll know the type.

The lamb dish comes as a slight surprise. Billed as slow-cooked lamb, with blackened onions, pine nuts, harrisa and freekah (a North African grain, made from green durum wheat), you’d expect a thick cut of meat to tear into, but this had been done already – shredded and mixed into the bowl. It’s a fine dish, healthy and energising, but lacks the slap-across-the-face bolshy flavours of the other courses.

The chocolate brownie is as good as brownies get. Soft and crumbly, with a gloriously creamy ice cream, speckled with smashed-up pistachio nuts. The vegan plum and tofu cheesecake, however, won’t cut it for those of us with dairy-reared palates. There’s a disappointing lack of sweetness and a gritty texture that serves to disorientate rather than punctuate this largely excellent meal.

A few minor gripes aside, Evelyn’s is the Northern Quarter’s semi-hidden gem. The menu is adventurous, and while it doesn’t always hit the mark, it’s only a matter of time before everything clicks into place. As for the atmosphere, it’s second-to-none. Thanks to the staff, there’s a genuine sense of excitement to the place, bustling and energetic without ever feeling flustered. And with the news that the owners are soon opening The Daisy, a cafe-cum-bar, in the downstairs space, it’s only going to get better for Manchester’s OG creatives.

Photos by author