/FOOD&DRINK
IT was only a matter of time before the Italian regions were represented in the restaurant kitchens of Manchester, rather than by generic ‘Italian.’ Salvi’s was one of the first, its Cucina a tribute to the informal dining spots that serve up regional cuisine in Naples, and now Sugo has arrived celebrating the flavours, the spice, the pastas of Puglia – the less frequently travelled heel of Italy where it seems each dusty town has its own favourite pasta shape, its own exquisite olive oil, and sundrenched ingredients to die for.
After a few years wowing diners in Altrincham, Sugo has opened an outlet in the big city with a bigger restaurant and an even bigger promise not to lose its soul – to continue to champion no-nonsense Pugliese cuisine that mama used to make - if mama was a top quality chef with a commitment to authenticity.
And at the core of that Sugo authenticity is the pasta. Flown in weekly, it comes direct from the famed Ligorio family factory in San Vito Dei Normanni. Lovely coins of orecchiette (or ‘ear’ shaped in the Italian); cute cavatelli looking like mini hotdog rolls that clasp any sauce spooned on top; and their elongated, twisted cousins, the strozzapreti.
Reports this week that cutting carbs from your diet will shorten your lifespan is music to my orecchiette - but at Sugo the pasta is not just a dull staple adding heft, it physically holds the flavours and frames the dish, for the eye and the palate.
Sugo has a corner plot in resurgent Ancoats just up the road from Halle St Peter’s, the former church now orchestra rehearsal space which is having a £4.3m extension that will anchor the area and the burgeoning dining and drinking scene along Blossom Street.
Sugo has 58 covers, an open kitchen, big windows – needed with narrow streets and tall blocks as neighbours – and a generic Manchester interior: functional, fashionable and forgettable. Grey hues, brick tiles, refectory tables, primary school tumblers – is it just me who always has to check what number is at the bottom of my Duralex Picardie glass? – and cutlery straight out of a POW camp.
But people will come for the tight menu (written in some Italian, so translate app at the ready) with just five starters and seven mains, which changes every couple of months.
My huge starter of lamb and pecorino meatballs (£7.50) was tremendous, steeped in a sweet onion ragu.
The double-shelled, day-glo green broad beans with a shade of mint was a masterstroke of vibrancy, even before the eating.
Across the table, an large aranchino (£6.50) was perched with panache in a puddle of dark tomato sauce - its centre throbbing with mozzarella and basil.
My main of Sugo Scoglio – cavatelli with mussels, baby squid and king prawns, datterini toms, chilli, ginger (£17) – was equally as good. Perfectly cooked seafood with a shock of chilli and that cavatelli grasping a deeply flavoured sauce. Spoon required.
The House Sugo – orecchiette with a slow cooked beef shin, pork shoulder and nduja ragu with parmesan (£14) could have been a disaster, with heavy meat overwhelming the delicate pasta, but, no, the shin and shoulder were silken. Beautiful.
An Amalfi lemon tart with blueberry and raspberry compote (£6) was nice, but not knockout, and a vanilla pannacotta with Yorkshire summer strawberries and crushed pistachio (£6) was a bit too sour for me, but the nuts were a nice Puglian touch.
The bill came to not much more than one of those generic ‘Italians.’
Two things to be aware of – both, I’m sure, rather out of the ordinary in Puglia. Your booking is for only 90 minutes, after which they “respectfully require your table back”, and it is a cashless restaurant where card is king (apart from tips…). We were finished in time – but there was no lazing over that last glass of house primitivo (half litre jug £14.50, full litre £25.50), though how strict they are on this remains to be seen. And my crumpled tenner tip was gratefully received.
It is fitting that Sugo should bring its exemplary pasta to Ancoats. For more than 100 years the narrow streets of the district were home to the tight-knit Little Italy community.
With Rudy’s perfect pizzas just down the road as well, Little Italy – or maybe Little Puglia – is back.