16/02/2025
Durrrrrrrrrrrrrr went to Manchester, Manchester, Manchester this week. For work. Lush. But wanna know what was lusher. The fact I had a King size bed to myself, and heating, heating that I didn’t have to worry about blasting. Was like Mt Doom in my room. Getting from the bathroom to the bed was like trampling on hot coals. But I abused it; as I did my caloric intake for the month.
I went to one night, after the bar. I crap you not. I run. I was like, if I get there for 9, i’m gonna be seated. Surely? Got in. Panting like a staffy that just walked around the block.
“Got a seat for Bradley no mates, butt?”
“What did you just call me, you swell head rat?” I jest, he didn’t say that, but my anxiety had me thinking there was an opportunity for it.
“Yeah man, on a stool by the counter if that’s alright?”
“Dur. Banging!”
Sat down, still sweating, breathing heavy like I’m hiding in an attic and my name was Anne. A menu placed in front of me. Blinding ordered.
Pork Gyozas.
Cucumber.
Tokyo Shoyu Ramen.
I propped my fog light up and took pics. Cucumber dashed with tofu shira, ponzu and house chili oil felt like Britney in 07. I was snapping. Dug in en. With chopsticks. Because I’m cultured asf. Was superb. Crunchier than squatting down on newly fallen autumnal leaves in the woods. Zesty ponzu mixed with chili oil, like a night at Cardiff Minskis.
The gyozas weren’t messing about either. The boys pulled a blow torch out to finish um off. Blowtorchinf like. Boys must’ve been welders in a different life. Worth a hobble if they’re ever low on cash. I’ll be a reference.
The ramen en. Fit for a king. Clear chicken broth, dashi, shoyu tare, pork belly, smoked coppa, menma, nori, and egg. Whole one. Mental portion of meat. Felt like I could’ve boxed it and had a roast for the fam on the holy day. That ain’t a complaint either. Nor would I ever box ramen. Cuz I’m emptying bowls like a bullmastiff.
Worth the visit. Always worth the visit when in Manny. Thanks to James at for giving me the faithful tip years ago.
