Grafene

Opening in summer, Grafene is the latest restaurant from the team behind the acclaimed Losehill House Hotel and Spa – one of the standout restaurants in the nearby Peak District. It’s just one of the many highly-regarded restaurants popping up on King Street but seems to have ambitions greater than most, with a menu full of complex dishes that promise a modern and very British take on fine dining.

First impressions are good, with a well-stocked bar bustling with dressed-up sophisticates. Far-out cocktails are a given in Manchester’s modern food and drink scene, and Grafene are no exception, with a raft of near-mystifying concoctions – and an eyebrow-raising lack of classics. We opt for the top-billed Grafene 55.5, a combination of gin and pear and grape juice, and the riskier-sounding white chocolate and raspberry martini.

The Grafene 55.5 is a delight for all the senses. A science beaker full of smoke-billowing orange liquid, which magically turns black when poured into its accompanying martini glass, where it continues to bubble away like boozy lava. It’s a gimmick but only the most jaded soul would fail to be impressed. As for the taste, the dry ice doesn’t impair things, resulting in a gentle, lightly fruity gin drink. The chocolate martini is less eye-catching but makes up for it in flavour. All too often, chocolate-based drinks are heavy and harsh but no such problems here. The top layer of homemade white chocolate is especially moreish, providing a glossily decadent aftertaste.

The menu is a treat to read for food-lovers, clearly the payoff of a profound knowledge of British ingredients. It matches wildly unconventional items with countryside classics, evoking all corners of the isles. But first things first: try the homemade bread. The sourdough with cumin and ginger is a dense, richly flavoured bread, eye-rollingly good smothered in poppy seed butter. And the focaccia with raisins and rosemary comes a close second – fruity and delicate without wandering into cake-territory.

A trip here should be all about the bright and brilliant rather than the commonplace

The seared scallops prove too tempting to resist, coming with the promise of a ‘black pudding bon-bon’. They come intermingled with paper thin slices of courgette, resting on a tangy chorizo puree, and seemingly for the sheer hell of it, a dehydrated prosciutto crisp stabbed through the middle of it all. It’s an intricate dish, elaborate without being convoluted, full of musky flavours that work wonderfully in isolation but even better combined.

The pigeon breast is firmly recommended by the waiter, and rightly so. Two dark hunks of meat lay on a creamy parsnip purée, scattered with tiny cocoa nibs, cranberries and haggis crumb. It’s an ample starter, dark and meaty, showcasing the best of the British countryside.

However, it’s not all perfect. The Himalayan salt-aged fillet steak, while a fine lump of meat, arrives more medium than medium-rare, and the lack of a steak knife is slightly annoying. Minor oversights but confirms my suspicion that while Grafene excels when it comes to striking dishes, more conventional fare tends to be overlooked. Still, a trip here should be all about the bright and brilliant rather than the commonplace. If you’re determined to go for steak, the red wine butter is a must-try accompaniment – silky pink slices of wine-infused butter that melt into the meat in the blink of an eye.

The monkfish reaffirms my faith, and then some. Another dish strongly recommended by our server, this colourful plate features a hefty piece of monkfish resting on deep-fried kedgeree fritters, which in turn sit on an array of pint-sized broccoli and cauliflower florets, all surrounded by dabs of lime puree and an artful swoosh of lobster bisque. Easily one of the prettiest dishes in Manchester, it’s almost a shame to disturb it. Unsurprisingly, it’s as good as it looks. An explosion of vivid flavours, with an entertaining twist on that sadly-neglected Victorian classic, kedgeree.

Whether or not it’s aiming for some arbitrary award misses the point entirely so ignore this reductive nonsense and enjoy some of the most exciting and unique food in the city

The creme brulee is more of a cheesecake, with a thick biscuit base, and unforgivably, comes ready-sliced and with a pot nowhere in sight. It’s not awful but it pales compared to the baked goat’s curd cheesecake. That tangy, unctuous goatiness elevates it far beyond any traditional cheesecake, and indeed, the lack of a biscuit base makes it less of a cheesecake than the creme brulee. A mouthful of this with a blob of light-green pistachio ice cream is something you won’t forget in a hurry.

Broadsheet reviews of Grafene have focused, as they invariably do, on that Michelin starred albatross around Manchester’s culinary neck, namely the lack of one. Taking Grafene on its own terms, that of a fine dining restaurant specialising in experimental British cuisine, it’s a roaring success. Whether or not it’s aiming for some arbitrary award misses the point entirely so ignore this reductive nonsense and enjoy some of the most exciting and unique food in the city. Two pieces of advice: when it comes to ordering, the more bizarre-sounding the better, and always, always listen to your waiter.