Skof Manchester is open - and I tried it
I went to the press launch of Manchester's most anticipated restaurant
Last night I ate at Skof, Manchester’s most anticipated new restaurant in years.
A lot of things are hyped in the world of food media. There are multiple reasons why someone might effusively declare something the best, the most, the biggest. Social media is so awash with bullshit that it can be hard to navigate.
Sometimes the hype comes via cold hard wonga, sometimes via a generous PR freebie, and sometimes it’s just a desperate attempt to stop the scroll. To up your numbers. To crack the algo. We all so badly want to be seen.
Then there are new restaurants that crackle under the pavements of the city. An electric current of urgently whispered names passed from mouth to ear IRL. I talk to real people about food all the time. And it seems like everyone I have spoken to in the past six months or so - not just here in Manchester, has been most excited about one place: Skof.
Why? Well, there’s a certain magic in Cumbria, isn’t there? Not just its humbling scenery that inspired lonely ole cloud Willy Wordsworth to sharpen his quill. But the produce and hospitality that makes it a hot spot for hot-shot chefs and restaurateurs. There are 13 Michelin-star restaurants dotted along its death-defying Supernoodle-shaped roads. Several of the stars in the region belong to Simon Rogan.
Skof’s chef-proprietor and Cumbrian lad Tom Barnes has worked with Simon Rogan for over a decade, leading the team at Rogan & Co when it won its Michelin Star and L’Enclume when it achieved its third. L’Enclume is one of only eight three-star restaurants in the UK - five of which are in the capital. ICYMI I interviewed Tom ahead of Skof opening back in November 2023.
With Skof, supported by Rogan’s UMBEL group, Tom Barnes has finally opened a restaurant in his own name. Snipping the UMBEL-ical cord, as it were, and stepping out as a star in his own right. And since Tom has never worked in a restaurant that didn’t have a Michelin Star since he started in kitchens as a teen, all Mancunian eyes will be on next year’s Michelin Guide.
But enough anticipation already. What’s the bloody food like? And here, I must confess that I was fortunate to be invited to eat at Skof on this occasion since I wrote the exclusive first interview (I don’t like to go on about it). But I’ve booked to visit again on my own dolla in a few weeks.
Cumbria-edition Michelin Star bingo cards at the ready: Hen of the woods mushroom, check. Nasturtium, check. Lobster, check. Scallops, check. Dashi, check. Lava lamp sauces spooned over at the table, check. Foraged stuff, fermented stuff, stuff served on big tactile hunks of ceramic. Check, check, check.
There is the synchronised swimming of staff bringing each dish and clearing the table. The long list of ingredients whispered at barely audible volume as you desperately try to memorise them like you’re on The Generation Game. There is a moment where you get to eyeball the chefs at the pass that takes things a notch above one-star territory.
It’s a bit like a cutting from Cumbria has been planted in Mancunian soil.
But there are Mancunian references. We were promised no bloody worker bees and they’ve made good on that one. Instead, original Co-Operative building tiles welcome you into the building. There is the ubiquitous exposed brick, but it is lovely. And Manchester honey pops in to say a brief ‘Y’alright, mate?’
Tom’s personality is here too. We are told his own playlist soundtracks our meal, featuring tunes from Dire Straits’ Walk of Life to his favourite Beatles song Blackbird (one of mine too, Tom). Tom’s fave blackbirds are also depicted in monochrome artworks dotted around the place. The decor is warm, lots of terracotta and soft leather. We have the best table in the house, informally known as Bernie’s table (that’s Tom’s mum), a curved corner booth with a view of the whole restaurant.
What’s omitted, from the Michelin playbook? There is no foie gras (cricket applause), no aurora borealis spattered chocolates to finish, and no introductory bread course (as I hear one food critic only semi-jokingly grumble) though bread is incorporated into several dishes such as the (essential, don’t skip it) lobster snack.
There are, as promised, no fucking tablecloths. There is also a refreshing lack of try-hard patter. Yes the staff know these dishes and wines inside and out (or will once these dress rehearsals are over) and they occasionally tell you stories behind them but it doesn’t feel like my favourite parody.
When Tom himself introduces one dish, he is distracted mid-blurb by a pigeon outside the window. His eyes dart towards it so like a sparrowhawk that we wonder if Piccadilly Gardens pigeon might become a future dish.
Later, it is genuinely moving when he serves us all a scoop of his late dad’s favourite pudding tiramisu from a large serving dish, explaining that he used to make it for him when he was too poorly to manage more solid foods.
It feels almost redundant to say that of course the food is fantastic. I don’t want to bore on about each of the fifteen dishes we were served, nor spoil the fun for when you visit. But standouts included the aforementioned lobster snack (complete with hot towel - it gets messy) and a wispy light broth of Orkney scallops with dulse seaweed and crispy oysters. It bursts with bright English garden flavours I can’t quite place. Is that elderflower? Lemon balm? Whatever, it’s a delight.
Another easy win is the steamed West Coast cod whose ethereal appearance (Foam! Check!) belies the intensity of its flavour. The eel in this dish matches spectacularly with the rich viognier of its paired glass of cool Condrieu.
That hen of the woods dish too. Its thick miso custard base somehow tastes like a pureed cheese scone. And oh my god the duck, the duck, the duck!
The fruit and veg produce alone - much of it via Rogan’s organic eden ‘Our Farm’ in the Cartmel valley - is unmissable. A flower-strewn strawberries and cream dessert is the masterclass.
On our visit, there were two menus (one just slightly longer and pricier) and two wine flights. There will also be a fifty-quid lunch menu which I can already feel pulling me across the city for too many ‘main character’ style tables for one as my credit card falls upon its sword.
I went for the pricier of the two wine flights with its ‘unique and rare’ glasses. Come on, it was a freebie, wwyd? It featured everything from a comfortingly classic Domaine Drouhin Pinot Noir made in Oregon to the rough floral orange of Himmel Auf Eden from Austrian natty trailblazer Christian Tschida. The only slight grumble I would have is that it doesn’t kick off til after the (four) snacks. So be prepared to order a pre-drink and you can forget about that early morning jog you had planned.
But jog over to Skof you must. There are a lot of fantastic places to eat in Manchester but seriously, nothing like this. We are so very lucky to have it.
Lunch booked in August. Thanks for the excellent write up. Very much looking forward to it.
Going to get here some day. I might try the £50 lunch menu as a first step, but I still also haven't been to Climat yet (and many others!)