I'll have what he's having
I'll have what he's having
content warning: spreadsheets and google reviews within
My friend Vanessa and I have a yearly tradition to travel to another city for a long weekend under the pretence of a specific cultural activity. Last year, it was to see Yayoi Kusama’s largest ever exhibition in Manchester; this year, it was to visit Alnwick’s poison garden from our base in Newcastle. But really, we’re there to eat.
We’d love to have the luxury of entering random restaurants, pointing to the table next to ours and, Bourdain-style, ordering “what he’s having”. To have the dedicated time, the business expense allowance, or the disposable income. To turn up somewhere new with nothing but a hungry stomach and let it rip.
There was no way, I told myself, that I was gonna eat my first Tokyo meal in Starbucks! Pinned under the wheels of that hypothetical Mister Softee truck, I would have something to regret. Muttering to myself, I charged out of Starbucks, found the narrowest, most uninviting-looking street, pushed aside the banner of the first soba shop I encountered, slid back the door and plopped myself down on a stool. When greeted, I simply pointed a thumb at the guy next to me and said, “Dozo. I’ll have what he’s having.”
Things worked out well.
– Anthony Bourdain in Kitchen Confidential
Despite being as hungry and curious as they come, I’m quite a few factors shy of this lifestyle. However, there is nothing stopping me from ordering “what they’re having”, if you consider “they” to be the tireless Google reviewers, local listicle writers and aspiring TikTok restaurant critics, all too happy to tell me what to eat.
From Alex Delany’s exhaustive Everything Good Google Doc series to 20-second “3 cute cafés in [insert neighbourhood here]” Instagram reels, we’re in a golden age of peer-reviewed food. Armed with nothing but a 26-30 railcard and excessive screen time, I am free to roll into any unsuspecting British town ready to unleash my appetite on a carefully curated list of local eateries at any time, all thanks to some guy’s glowing 5-star review and accompanying pictures.
But if there’s one thing I love more than reading lists, it’s making them. And if there’s one thing I love more than making lists, it’s turning them into spreadsheets. Screw my 17-year-old art school self who would have rather died than ever open Excel – I am abandoning my inner child at the service station and speeding pedal-to-the-metal towards sweet, sweet conditional formatting.
For Vanessa and I, the real fun starts a couple of months prior to the trip. I enter a trance-like state researching all the food a city has to offer, finally emerging a few hours later exhausted and proud, cradling in my arms a 40-line, colour-coded spreadsheet documenting menus, locations and price ranges, and placing it at Vanessa’s feet. Then, the review process begins: we each vote for our favourites, discard the rest, then relentlessly kill our darlings until five-ish places remain. We’re anxious and hungry travellers; this seemingly unhinged process guarantees that we’ll eat well, cast a wide net, stay within budget, and make reservations comfortably early.
I’ve made an abridged version of the spreadsheets for your viewing pleasure here, in case you need Manchester or Newcastle recommendations. Obviously, these are catered to my and Vanessa’s tastes (and complete lack of dietary restrictions), and I can’t vouch for the ones we didn’t visit.
As for the ones we did, I couldn’t profess my love for online reviews without writing some myself…
Where we ate in Manchester
Northern Soul – Vanessa and I are frickle (fried pickle) fiends, but while I loved the taste of theirs, I wasn’t a fan of the breading’s texture. The grilled cheese sandwiches were everything you could want from a grilled cheese sandwich, but they were also my downfall: I was so stuffed that I struggled through the other two meals we ate that day, and had an existential crisis about whether I could really call myself a food lover if that was all it took to bring me down. 3.5 stars.
The Library Champagne Bar – I’d never had high tea and wanted to feel fancy. Mission accomplished. The food was fine. 3.5 stars.
El Gato Negro – Tasty tapas, stunning venue, perfect atmosphere. I remember the lovely couple we were sat next to (the guy looked just like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast) better than I remember the dishes, but my god was I suffering by then. 4 stars.
Sugar Junction – The venue and dishes are equally as cute. I wish I could have gone there multiple times to try more things from the menu, but we were still digesting the previous day’s exploits and split one singular French toast. 4 stars.
Street Urchin – The undisputed love of my life. Please marry me Street Urchin. I promise to have and to hold your colourful seasonal cooking, your seafood that tastes like snogging the ocean, and your natural-light-drenched dining room. 5 stars.
Where we ate in Newcastle
The French Quarter – Where to start? The cosy atmosphere, the attentive service, the food that tastes just like home? The menu of small sharing plates changes seasonally, and showcases a wide variety of authentic dishes from up and down douce France. The wine list is exclusively French, and written in a way that allows dumb-dumbs who know nothing about wine like me to pick the perfect glass. The staff and owners clearly care, and every single guest looked like they were having as lovely a time as we were. Most importantly, the bread is banging. 5 stars.
Aidan’s Kitchen – Vanessa had the pancakes, and I can see why they’re the star of the menu: these are capital-F Fluffy. I had spicy, creamy, filling Turkish eggs. Seemingly every dish here is doused in butter and I am here for it. Definitely book in advance. 4.5 stars.
Dobson & Parnell – That was a strange one. We expected something super upscale with dainty, fussy dishes. We were met with copious portions of pretty good but not life-changing food. The table next to ours all gleefully ordered “dirty” fried chicken sandwiches, and my steak was served with bang-average chips. The mackerel pâté was delicious. 3.5 stars.
Smoke & Sear – I may never get over the FOMO of deciding not to order the steak and eggs I had been craving, in fear of being too full to enjoy the next meal, only to receive the world’s largest shakshuka and hash browns the size of my face. I want to come back every morning to try something different and bask in the cutest décor I’ve ever seen in a café. 5 stars.
The Tanner Arms – Pretty good Sunday roast, with the proper amount of gravy (a metric cube). Book in advance, come very hungry, and walk it off through the steep hills and artsy shops of Ouseburn. 4 stars.
Thoughts, feedback, recommendations I missed out on in the spreadsheets? Let me know!