The last time I was at Manchester 235, situated in the Great Northern Warehouse on Deansgate, it was called Linen, it was Valentine’s Day, there was a magician, and I won £40 on roulette. So when I realised that my favourite telly chef had opened a restaurant in Manchester, I was salivating at the thought of sampling his culinary delights. It’s just not the same without his dulcet Northern tones. Since Martin left the popular show, I’ve not seen a single episode. I’ve spent many a hungover weekend morning watching Saturday Kitchen and scoffing scrambled eggs made with a tonne of butter.
