Proloco

Long-time readers may recall Firebird Hope, a food stall at the now-gone Hatch complex, which boldly claimed to sell “the best chicken and vegan chicken fried sandwich in Manchester”. They weren’t wrong either. Meaty or seitan, these were top-tier takeouts, and we said as much back in 2018. 

That was one of Proloco co-founder Dan Hope’s early forays into Manchester food and drink. He followed this up with various successful plant-based pop-ups, then teamed up with Ruf Dug to run Rainy Heart, a roaming bar and rave space, featuring guest sets from big kahunas like Mr Scruff and Luke Una. In short, he’s a one-man ideas machine and Manchester runs through all of them. 

That matters. In a city where identikit skyscrapers pop up every week, it’s worth celebrating the people who understand the essence of the city. 

For Proloco, he’s teamed up with Richard Carver, the pizza brainbox behind Honest Crust. The ingredients are meticulously sourced: organic milk from Strickley Farm near Kendal and flour grown and milled in the Lake District. It has the feel of a passion project, not just another LinkedIn-led revenue stream. 

There’s a buzz to the atmosphere, largely thanks to the high-grade soundsystem playing a flawless set of deep disco cuts. Like Dahlia, round the corner, this is a restaurant led by club culture. Everything is pitch perfect, and everyone here is exactly where they want to be. 

The pizzas are big, bolshy wheels of pizzazz. Sure, you could get a margherita, but would you when there’s the option of porchetta, fennel cream and pickled apple? This and the chilli sausage and creamed cavolo are two of the most inspired pizza toppings in the city, both delivering a distinctly different ping-pong of flavours across the tongue. 

Perhaps the greatest praise is that there’s nothing boring on this menu. From the small plates section, the mussels are dished up in a homespun combination of sweetcorn, smoked pork cheek and squash. Messy, earthy and moreish. The gelato is made in-house, with the fig leaf and olive oil scoop the best thing on the menu. 

Glass of Lambrusco with that? This isn’t the mass-produced gloop your auntie necked back in the 80s; this is a gently fizzy red from a small family farm over in Northern Italy. Again, slightly surprising, but all part of a piece. 

It all works. The execution is unfussy and almost rustic, but all backed with a deep knowledge of flavours and turns city-centre casual dining into something noteworthy. 

In Latin, pro loco means “for the place”, and that’s precisely what this Ancoats restaurant is. It’s a restaurant for Manchester, run by and for people who know what Manchester is all about. It’s one of the best new launches this year, and a strong indicator of where the city’s independent food scene is heading.