Opus One Review January 23rd 2009

Paul Ogden visits Opus One and finds that when the chips are down, a high-class hotel restaurant can give the diner some much-needed VFM

I suppose, when times are tight, we are all searching more keenly for that elusive ideal of value for money. In terms of restaurants, VFM is not always easy to define, the perception of quality and quantity changing from dine to diner, plastic wallet to Radley purse. A friend once told me that whole digesting a lovely meal at one of the lake District's most lauded- and expensive- restaurants, the personality-challenged proprietor slid by his nightly, always-congratulatory tour of the tables. 'Was everything all right, for you?' was his rhetorical question. 'Oh, yes, but I usually like more veg', came honest John's reply. 'Well, we'll supply you with a nosebag next time you dine with us', spat the restaurateur.

Of course, filling ones boots is not the main reason for fine dining, but the portions quotient has always been important to us northerners- maybe the collective memory of chipping at the frozen soil for a winter turnip makes us appreciate a sated stomach more than most. Thus, when looking for VFM, leaving a restaurant in search of more root vegetables is a no-no. And so it was that I was expecting to pay through the nosebag for filling meals when I visited Opus One.

Since Radisson refurbished the Free Trade Hall in 2004 and launched the restaurant in the five-star hotel, Opus One has always had a reputation for being a tad expensive. One Manchester Evening reviewer of old was flabbergasted to find himself forking out £3.50 for just six "Jenga" chips and a little over a year ago they were still on the menu. That, with stories of a stratospherically-priced wine list and mains regularly being logged at more than £20, may have put off those who nurture the pennies.

Well, a year is a long time in a Manchester hotel kitchen and Russ Brown is now head chef in place of David Sharp, sparking changes that included utilising a roof garden for vegetables and herbs. And the menu pricing looks different too- a good 10 to 20 percent cheaper, I would say. It can't be because of those green fingers.VFM must be on Brown's mind aswell.

But other things do not change-the décor for one. You can't really expect it to have done within five years, considering that £50m was spent turning the historic building into the first Radisson outside London. In terms of Opus One's Manhattan meets China style, some hate it, some love it. I'm on the latter category. I find all the crimson and chocolate hues luche and sexy, without being tacky. Everything seems huge- just as it should be in this place. Big chandeliers, big columns, big mirrors and, unfortunately, a big draught from the glass colonnade, which we moved away from.

In all, a big statement for a big place-fitting for a building which looms so large in Manchester's history. But I have to agree with those who find it a bit murky. Perhaps we will be swimming around in perpetual gloom when our tungsten light bulbs run out in the next few months-but not yet, please! I'm sure our down-to-earth cheerful waitress, Sarah, would have supplied us with a head torch to help read the menus, but we just about got by.

 First through the gloom was an amuse-bouche of poached pear and stilton on toasted brioche, with finely balanced flavours on top but a slight hint of charring from below. Out of the seven starters that evening, two were terrines and one a parfait. Maybe that was a little unbalanced and we went for the others. My starter of crab, monkfish and Palma ham was the first dish to slay those suggestions of small portions. Two fist-sized, cloud-light balls of flaky fish, crab and potato with the ham's flavour nicely judged so as to not overwhelm that seafood. They came with a lemon and onion chutney which, when added sparsely, was a winner. Opposite was an exemplary, nutty mushroom risotto with an amusing wafer of parmesan crisp stuck sail-like in the centre.

The wine list has a few bottles under £20, but prices do gallop upwards quite steeply. We asked for a half-bottle of Chilean Sauvigon Blanc, from La Joya (£10), with the starter. There were no half bottles available but in-keeping with the night's good service, a full-sized one was opened (I think we got three-quarters in the end). And we weren't sold mean portions on mains either-but what about taste?

 I had braised Pork belly and seared pork steak with a poached pear, cabbage and bacon (£17.95).The large square of belly was tremendous-moist and oozing flavour, though I needed much of the plump pear (a kind of sauce on a stick) to offer something to the rather bland pork steak. The "bubble and oink" added enough tasty ballast that I hardly touched the side order of creamy parsnip mash (£3.50). Opposite was even better-seared duck breast with a confit leg (£17.95).Wonderful meat all round, especially the headily rich leg. It came with robust puy lentils, and a hugely yoked, lightly fried egg on top- an addition that seemed to slightly over egg the richness, though it did add to that VFM.With all that we had a bottle of Etchart Privado Malbec, which was adequate at £18.50.

We had to share dessert-two spoons fencing for a luxurious and not too sweet prune parfait (£6.25).In the past, finance may have been part of that decision to share; now it was purely down to over-indulgence.

No need for a nosebag at Opus One nowadays.