WOLF AT THE DOOR

To me, it’s like Neverland.

There is something for everyone, whether that's getting a spontaneous piercing in Afflecks or having a quick tipple in Cane & Grain.

Or stumbling across Wolf at the Door.

It’s a rainy Manchester evening and we’re both squeezed under one umbrella, which seems to be doing more harm than good.

On the corner of Thomas Street, formerly Odd Bar, is a sleek looking diner – its name strikingly lit on the dark evening, with an intriguing glow creeping through the upturned blinds.

I sod the brolly that’s now blew inside out and run inside.

I feel like Leo DiCaprio in The Beach.

(The beginning part where he finds it obviously.)

2pac – All Eyez On Me is playing: there’s a group of lads playing cards and sipping beers, a couple share a bottle of red sat by candlelight in the corner, and a girl casually types away on her Mac, simultaneously eating a delightful looking bao bun.

There’s no dress code, like everywhere else in Manchester nowadays, so anything from suits to Hawaiian shirts goes.

It’s a casual commotion of stereotypically incompatible guests, suggesting Wolf at the Door has got its welcoming atmosphere spot on.

Thick wicker lampshades hang from the ceiling and potted plants line the shelves and window ledges.

The walls are covered with interesting and expressive artwork – like the magnificent portrait of a Stormtrooper holding a banana emblazoned with the words ‘Mom I’m gay’.

This modern speakeasy also has its name daubed in a spray paint style across the feature wall in blood-red, just in case you might miss it.

It first reminds me of that song by Radiohead, you know, “I keep the wolf from the doooor”.

No?

Or maybe it's referring to tightening your belt financially, to 'keep the wolf from the door'.

It's easy to do in here, with tacos and baos from £1.

My next thought is danger, I'm thinking little red riding hood running from the big bad wolf.

Is it a grand metaphor for the struggles of daily life?

Just in case it is, I force myself to forget my misfortunes and leave them at the door with my damp umbrella.

^{I open the drinks menu, greeted by an opening page sporting the same graffiti writing as on
the wall.
Its contents page is straight to the
point, reading:}^{‘Cocktails, whiskey, tacos, dead nice
beers, whisky…
basically a load of stuff so you have a good time.
We hope you do!’}^{If that isn’t an excuse to sink a few, I don’t know what is.
I decide to start sweet, opting for a
‘Sinking Ship’, in tribute to the wet weather.
It consists of Ketel One Vodka, strawberry syrup, talicius, and seabuckthorn juice.
All typical items you can
find in your cupboard.}^Not.

It sounds more like the adult recipe for the Polyjuice Potion in Harry Potter.

It is magical in its own right.

A vivid and flamboyant shade of orange, its sharp and satisfying in all the right places.

A perfect introduction to the cocktail collection.

Clipboards with tiny pencils are strewn across the tables.

They list the taco and baos on offer, for diners to fill out and take to the bar.

Each filling sounds as decadent and delicious as the last.

There is jerk chicken, hoisin mushroom, or cauliflower shawarma tacos to choose from, as well as a bacon cheese bao-ger and a ham, egg, and chips bao bun.

With each item costing between £2-4, it’s worth experimenting.

The tunes perfectly fit the feel of the room and are a welcome backing track to some idle chit-chat.

They’ve gone full West Coast tonight – Dre, Eazy-E, and Nate Dogg are a few hip-hop titans to have graced our ears.

Someone must have known I was coming.

We order the scampi and fries (£4), pork pibil (£2), and nacho (£2) tacos, along with some fries.

The buffalo chicken and BJ’s blue cheese bao bun is calling my name too.

A proper tongue twister that is.

Thank god for the tick sheet so I didn’t have to try and say that all at once.

The ground floor bar and kitchen is uniquely shaped, but still provides a decent place to dine.

I ascend the dark and dismal staircase and I’m elevated into a Narnia-esque place.

And this is only the bathroom.

Assorted plants rest at the top of the stairs next to an interesting looking lamp.

I can’t make out whether the stand is reminiscent of a tree trunk or a long pair of legs… or whether that cocktail has gone to my head.

Upon my return, our first plates, the pork and nacho tacos have arrived.

It’s a similar experience to tapas, where small but hearty courses are brought out as and when.

Left unfolded so their generous fillings can be appreciated, they resemble miniature versions of the dishes they are inspired by.

A traditional Mexican street food, the pork pibil forms the foundation of the taco.

It's conventionally wrapped in plantain and slow-roasted barbecue-style but instead, this modern taco twist uses a soft wholemeal tortilla as its safety blanket.

The hearty portion of shredded pork glistens, even under the dim lights.

The first bite unlocks hordes of flavour.

It has an intense and smoky taste yet remains tender and succulent, scoring top marks in the protein department.

Its usual sidekicks of pickled red onion and coriander are the perfect balance to the richness of the pork.

Drizzled in what I can only describe as an upmarket burger sauce, its sweetness is the cherry on top of the taco.

The nacho is next.

A single corn tortilla invites a quick and convenient solution to your crisp cravings.

Salsa, guac, jalapenos, red onions, and nacho cheese form the mouth-watering medley.

My only discrepancy is that there isn’t enough of it.

We halve it as best we can as I try and navigate the toppings escaping the safety of the tortilla as we dismantle it.

Maybe I’ll bring a bib next time.

I order another cocktail, this time an ‘Apple Boy’ (£8).

It's tart and tasty, like its main component the classic granny smith apple.

Its tang is admirable and sends my salivary glands into overdrive – my face must have been a picture because this is super sour.

Our plates are promptly cleared and replaced with the buffalo chicken and blue cheese bao and fries.

Warm and fluffy, the bao is almost bursting out of the bowl.

Each bun is stuffed with a golden chicken fillet, deep-fried, and perfectly coated.

The buffalo and blue cheese sauce is smothered over them, creating an eye-catching dish.

It’s a handful, to say the least. But a delicious one at that.

A perfect yin and yang, the cooling blue cheese is the perfect antidote to the fiery buffalo sauce.

A succulent chicken breast awaits me, its texture the ideal contrast to the softness of its bao bun.

I decide to mop up the excess sauce with my fries, and its a serious shout.

Buffalo and blue cheese fries could be the next item on the menu.

Saving the best until last, the scampi and fries tacos are then delivered.

A dollop of tartare sauce, golden chunks of scampi, and tiny chips are assembled on top of two crunchy shells.

The chips are like a thinner version of French Fries crisp.

Salty and crunchy, they do exactly what they are supposed to.

The scampi bites add some sturdiness to the dish as well as being a tasty treat.

This elite selection of small plates has quickly made Wolf at the Door a leading leisure spot in the city.

It is inexpensive and easy – making it simple for the team to perfectly execute their menu and concentrate on delivering top tier customer service.

It’s a cheap and trendy refuge from the fast pace of the city, where you can enjoy some great small plates, even better music, and a bloody good cocktail.