It had just started raining when I met The Brunette in the bar at Fenix. There was a slight tension in the air as our teams were playing each other later that day. I was also a little nervous because the scuttlebutt about this new Greek place was not good. The Brunette mentioned “all fur coat and no knickers”.
Meanwhile, I’d read reports about other Manchester restaurants baulking at customers coming in with LED lights and tripods to produce Instagram food porn. My own bugbears are unnecessary cackling (laughing loudly at anything unfunny) and drinking cocktails with food. There are now all manner of emporia on offer for the new philistinism. So, we were both suspicious that Fenix fell into these categories.
I am happy to report that nothing could be further from the truth. A broad circular staircase leads from a low-lit ground floor bar to an airy, light first floor restaurant. The tables were a respectful distance from each other giving you space to avoid any gangs of cocktail-swilling cacklers. There was a well-stocked bar at one side and an open kitchen at the other. So far, so good.
We were here to review Fenix’s new ‘Sunday Agora’ (an agora is a Greek Sunday gathering – a place to celebrate the rich, universal traditions of a Sunday dinner). We were led to our table by Antoine who charmingly told us of his French heritage and a late childhood spent in Japan. The friendly and engaging Chelsey put us further at our ease as she went through the menu amid witty asides.
We were treated to a Hellenic feast of near epic proportions. The Brunette went for the Robata Grilled Sea Bass served with a lime and turmeric dressing while I had the Leg of Lamb En-Clave. The lamb is roasted in an individual clay pot and parchment paper to produce the tenderest, sweetest meat I have tasted in some considerable time. In order to add to the sense of celebration and anticipation, the pot is cracked at the table. Both fish and lamb were simply delicious.
My meal was accompanied by a wide selection of vegetables including a Mykonian salad, spicy roasted cabbage, Briam potatoes with zucchini, and a pure white tzatziki. There was also a crisp, dry bottle of Cretan Vilana Vidiano. We finished with a shared chocolate crème brûlée and a glass of late harvest Tokaji. It goes without saying that all of our earlier worries were dispelled with plates of excellent food and note-perfect service. 
As the leftovers were bagged up, Zizis, the head chef, stopped by our table to say hello. He was open and amicable, adding to the inclusive and affable atmosphere of this gem of a restaurant. The Brunette and I parted ways during the dregs of a misty, dreich Sunday afternoon. Kick off was 4.30pm. It ended 1-1. The only real winner was Fenix.
Words and photos by Robert Hamilton
