Horse and Jockey Chorlton

Back in the early noughties, the Horse and Jockey was quite the happening place on the South Manchester scene. Weekends regularly saw a riot of drinking, snogging and band-forming – Blair’s babies never had it so good. 

Alas, the good times came to an end as the regulars got married off and Cameron’s cronies stifled the fun. And, for the subsequent decade or so, it became just another Chorlton pub. Until now. 

It’s all thanks to food boffins Neil Burke and Ben Chaplin, who you may remember from previous marvellous revamps such as Salford’s Black Friar. Impressively, lightning has struck twice. The two projects have a lot in common – both sprawling slightly out of town venues, a little down on their luck, brought back to their full majesty and then some. 

If anything, Horse and Jockey has an even more storied past. The building can be dated to the 1500s, back when Henry VIII was busy inventing divorce – something of interest to a fair number of those 00s-era Jockeyers, no doubt. 

It’s easily one of the area’s most striking venues. The building is huge, full of nooks and crannies spread across umpteen floors, great views of Chorlton Green, with a vast, well-stocked bar and an all-new pumped-up restaurant side. 

First up, let’s get the C word out of the way. If you’re looking for a Christmas destination – big office do, one-on-one crimbo date, or anything in-between – this is the one. It’s tasteful and traditional, and the staff are some of the most affable and charming townsfolk this side of a Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer festive film. 

The festive menu is a steal at £33 for two courses. Not being posh, I had no idea lobster ravioli was Christmas-coded. But it is, and I’m glad it is. This starter right here is one of the season’s greats, and it’s largely down to the prawn and mussel bisque – glossy, rich and consistently smooth, with light dashes of tarragon. One complaint: it should come with a hunk of bread to soak up every atom from the plate. 

The showpiece festive main is a classic: turkey ballotine, with chestnut and sausage stuffing, roast fondant potato, and a bunch of superbly-executed trimmings including a pile of shredded sprouts you didn’t know you needed. 

This plate alone shows the dexterity and skill of the kitchen crew. It’s exciting enough to satisfy the most demanding culinary nerd, but agreeable enough to cut through all levels of the picky eater food chain, of which, of course, we will dine with many this yuletide season (hi dad).  

The regular menu is full of delight and wonder too, but dish of the day, month, maybe even your year, has to be the slow-cooked ox cheek, made with port and red wine. It’s stunning and everyone in the venue knows it – worth a visit alone. 

The wood pigeon starter isn’t far behind. This has more razzle-dazzle in terms of colour and texture, largely thanks to the clever use of crunchy granola and winter-tastic pearl barley, but we cock no snooks at that rich, burgundy pigeon breast either. Mini-bird meat never looked so good. 

The Horse and Jockey is back and better than it ever was. Based on this and the Black Friar, the restoration team is doing important, brilliant things to the Manchester landscape. Much like horny boy Henry Tudor, long may they reign.