A quick tour of locating meals for £10 and under.

In life it is our draw toward the unexperienced that invigorates our soul. Be it through the images of a new film, the notes of a song, a newfound connection or the delectability of a dish. And if, like me, you find yourself drawn, or rather, inexplicably yearning for the new, then perhaps I have you covered. Here in Manchester there blossoms a scene of street food and independent chefs alike. To miss it is to walk this city blind. Yet our all too familiar feeling of returning to the known, to the safe, can dissuade us from entering into the boundaries of the new. Let’s stop that in its tracks, there’s no excitement for the creature and its habits. I present to you, a list of Manchester finest cuisine, for the broke eater, that is. Written by yours truly, the skint eater himself, Ethan Jones.

Now there’s a lotta talk about  the value of spontaneity at the mo’, though for me, particularly when I’m hungry, spontaneity leads me traipsing back to the diminishing pastures of familiarity. I’ve also longed for a toolkit to add to my arsenal of discovering new dishes, that’s why I’m here. There’s value in swaying from the chains, from the copy and paste interiors of these household names, that shall here go, unnamed, and instead treading into the deeper end to experience a taste of Manchester’s independent offerings. This is a city which always has, and continues to thrive upon the power of the people to support one another. Y’know the whole worker bee being emblematic of this city’s people? Well we don’t have that reputation for no good ol’ reason. So step away from the monotony of the experienced and try some of these honourable mentions I’ve listed below, all of which can be supported and you, shall be satiated, all for under a tenner.

The Arndale market

Weave on through the hollow malls of the consumerists paradise and there, concealed in an alcove of its own, is the market. Away from the sterility of the chains and branded shops is the foodie’s boiling pot. Where you’ll catch glimpses of the tamed chaos which each stall has distilled into their own unique craft, a freneticism that appears at once unwieldy yet its efficiency is undeniable. Within minutes or even seconds of an order, the food arrives, though to look upon these workers at peak times you’d think it were merely a pen of dervishes. Doubt their culinary talents at your own peril, as some of Manchester’s finest street food is buried within this market. To attempt to distil this atmosphere, this pace and its ceaseless tempo is to do it a disservice. I cannot wrangle the chaos like them. You have to witness, taste and experience the cuisine, efficiency and the facets of the street food for yourself. I promise you that it shan’t be something you regret.

Takoyaki, pasta, pizza, Vietnamese, Chinese, Mexican, Jamaican, sushi and even traditional British fare like some beef sarnies and a choice of Nata’s, ice creams and boba tea to satiate the ensuing craving for a sweet. The market is a multifaceted, all encompassing nest of Manchester’s finest cuisine. To avoid or miss this place is a disservice to oneself as a lover of food. Besides, name me another dining spot where you can chow down on your octopi, observe a foot rub for a guy and subsequently lament your wandering eye.

This & That.

Through the ashes of a Weekend aftermath I waded, off the beaten track to a spot nestled in the alleys of Northern Quarter, akin to the Gotham backstreets you’d find Batman frequenting is one of the few remaining bastions of a dying era, the metric to which all others are judged against, is This & That, the epitomisation of the rice and three. In today’s era we are plagued by the frequent sight of the eight pound pint, to secure 3 curries for six pounds would be deemed a mere fever-dream. Though do not fret, inflation has spared this diamond in the rough and thus its prices remain unsoiled.

Operating on a rotating basis, with each new day there is a new curry to boot. If one chooses to forgo the usual prerequisite of menu research it can become a Russian roulette of curries. Turn up on a Wednesday and you may find a curry you detest, or chance it on another day. It’s your call. However, if like me, you broach the territory of nigh-on stalking when researching a restaurant then you’ll consign yourself to a day where the curries fit your fancy. Wise choice in my eyes. I’ve visited it more times researching the place than actually going in person. Please don’t press charges.

Though there is a deified trifecta of rice ‘n’ three in the realm of NQ my recommendation comes in the form of this and that. Equal in both Renown and longevity for reasons mainly pertaining to both cost and cuisine. Though also worth noting is its unwillingness to scale up its pricing in line with the influx of overpriced assortments on toast, sourdough particularly. Yes I have seen that the average price for avocado on toast is slowly creeping above 13 pounds – no you will never catch me paying for that.  Rant aside, here’s me sticking my neck out for This & That, all without a slice of sourdough in sight, I have a hunch that a rice ‘n’ three will do you just right.

Piccadilly gardens eatery corridor.

To quote a sausage-fingered aristocrat, the mauling of Piccadilly gardens is akin to the formation of a ‘monstrous carbuncle on the face of a much-loved and elegant friend’. Despite this, and the innumerable carcasses of pop-up shops and seasonal wares. There is one element that has retained its permanence throughout this butchering. The Piccadilly gardens food corridor – or so I’ve come to call it. With a lineup consisting of Jamaican, Chinese, Dutch fish and chips, brownies, Star Wars-themed burgers and falafel pittas. All of which can be acquired by the curious passerby for ten quid and under, not all the food at once obviously… Let’s be sensible here. Though you’ll find that locating a satiating takeaway proves to be a rather simple task. There is admittedly little reason to visit the ailing gardens, a once proud example of green space reduced to a final death rattle leaving behind an unsightly corpse. Catch it before the encroaching markets and the ten pound mulled wine make their return. If the gardens continue to decay, the least a hungered stomach can do is ensure that these independent retailers continue to provide us with a reason to visit.

Habesha restaurant.

Representing the far too frequently overlooked Ethiopian cuisine, a culture which places such strong emphasis upon communal eating, it isn’t hard to see just why Habesha holds such renown as a local bastion of cheap yet stellar food. I have a review on this place – here. Though I will preface this by going on record to say Habesha is one of the most refreshing, welcoming restaurant experiences I’ve had the fortunate pleasure of encountering. In the age of order and go, walkout meals and table service, to enter a place where warmth is exuded with the utmost immediacy, is refreshing to say the least. Also if you’ve got a plus one, make sure to practise the art of Gursha, just don’t try it out on an unsuspecting waiter, ay?

The offerings here are again curry-based, though do not mistake the Ethiopian offerings with those of This & That. Served atop the traditional Injera bread, a sourdough-style wrap with which it serves as both plate, cutlery and receptacle to the curries you’ll be choosing from. Swab, dab, wrap up and learn how to utilise it and you’ll find a meal equal in flavour and the enjoyment of consumption. Wash it down a crisp bottle of Tej and what first appears to be a few ladlefuls of curry atop a wrap will prove itself to be a most filling meal indeed. I managed to use up three Injera, though I am ashamed to say that the plate was not rendered clean. I cannot recommend this restaurant enough, it’s not a puzzle to see just why the first Ethiopian restaurant in Manchester has endured through covid and on into the present day.

Let’s chat about why I’m here writing this though. What’s the whole point of this piece? Point is, things in the UK, for the average person at least, ain’t great. I’m a student, so money’s a tight thing. We’re all too aware that the cost of living, or the toll of survival as it should be renamed, is rising with no end in sight. There’s this fizzling sense of gleeful nihilism as vices and bad habits seem an increasingly rational answer to the quandaries of modern day life. There’s a will to indulge, one that feels earned, at least in my mind. Yet this extends a little further, and out into the realm of food. A place where there ain’t much gleeful nihilism to be exercised as you fork out another four quid fifty for some anaemic chicken breast. Then its having the energy to cook the thing, or having the coin to fund your proverbial and literal energy costs. It’s all a bit bleak innit?

The allure of chain eateries offering limp, soulless cuisine have boomed during this time. Our wallets wane in their bulk, as the cheap eats business soars. And whilst yes, there is something to be said for both speed and convenience. I, for one, have never felt satisfied after visiting one of these places, I leave knowing I’ve supported summat that presents no value to the wider community in which it festers. So as all of us look to eat cheaper, buy an air fryer and proceed to get all evangelical as we tell all in close proximity of its greatness like some insufferable town crier who found enlightenment via this culinary innovation. I’m guilty of it too, we all are, some just ain’t willing to see the light. Our budgets are growing tighter yes, and it’s not hard to see why this era has given rise to the batch cook too. Strife births innovation, it’s what we do to carry on.

Yet if, when faced with the opportunity you are able to eat out, then try one of these spots. The independent caterers are in this with us, and if they’re left unsupported we’ll be left with the unstoppable uprising of the chain eateries. Not to get all 1984 on you, but voting with your wallet sends a message, whilst aiding those who seek to bring joy into our lives via the means of food with a little encouragement during these times. It doesn’t cost much, a wee bit more than a meal deal, but you have my guarantee that the experience and cuisine shall be leagues above what could be experienced at a chain. The community thrives when those within work to benefit one another. We’re the worker bee for a reason, so let’s put some back into the hive that is this city we call home.