Selo Deli Monton Road Monton Eccles

Monton road, the New Chorlton for the over 40s. I found myself here, on the hottest day of the year 2013. I ordered at the counter and sat beside the door and  waited too long for my Americano. Something caught my eye on my right, a baby crawled past, wearing nought but a nappy. The mother hollering (from her table) for the baby not to go too far, as it was busy main road outside. I half expected the baby to stand up, put its hands on its hips and reply, "It's ok Mother, I know my Green Cross Code". Just as the baby was about to make an escape Mum scooped him up and ran back to her table.

The coffee was very strong and flavoursome, I enjoyed it, even in 80 degree heat.  As I sipped I heard a woman cackling like a magpie.  Her “laughter” startled me so much, I turned around,  I spotted her at a table towards the back of the shop, throwing her head back in mirth. After tipping the last drop of coffee in,  I peeled myself from my seat and asked a passing waitress what kind of coffee they served, her answer went thus;

“Do you know what,  loads of 'em 'av bin tellin' me that this mornin'", she did a quick body shake, shoulders then hips, and said, "I'm thinkin' it's the way a meck it" As she said this she threw her right arm out to the side of her body.  It was more Nellie Pledge than Beyonce. 

As I overheard a woman’s voice pleading, “Say bye bye to Grandma and Grandad”, a serious looking woman then appeared from the kitchen and told me that, obviously, they had their own name on the packets of coffee. She pointed to where they were on the nearby shelf. Nellie Pledge was no where to be seen. 

I still really don’t know what kind of coffee they serve.

I much recommend Selo Deli, I implore you to take yourself there the next time you find yourself on Monton Road.  

The Blind Pig Monton Road Monton

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As I’m writing this review, 24 hours after visiting, I have already forgotten the name of the place. Fat Pigs? No, I have to look it up. The Blind Pig. Monton Road, the premises formerly known as The Drop Inn Public House.
As we approach the bar a barmaid greets us, “Are you eating with us today you guys?” I feel immediately irritated. Whenever anyone injects the word “today” I am always tempted to say, “No we thought we’d eat a week on Friday”, just to garner a reaction. My husband won’t let me cause a scene. Don’t even talk to me about “YOU GUYS”.
My inner anger is puttering on a light simmer but I politely ask the barmaid - come -  waitress what the procedure is?  where do we order? do we wait to be seated?  does she have a men……Before I can get the word menu out she asks me if we want to order drinks. I tell her we haven’t decided what we want yet and I ask again for a menu. She hands us a food menu each and tells us she will see to us in a minute. The pair of us sit down and peruse the menu and specials board. The place is bustling with customers and staff but as I twist around in my chair and glance around I cannot see anyone eating any food. In my experience this is always a worry. As I scan the menu I notice that certain foods have a certain time slot. Part of the menu offers food between 9 and 11.30 and the next part offers food between 12 and 4. I am puzzled as to what happens if you fancy a nibble at 11.30. The woman behind the bar doesn't see to us but another girl appears and we order drinks. I order my usual Americano, black with separate cold milk, my husband wants a latte in a mug rather than a glass. She asks me again what I am having and I repeat my order. She tells me my coffee “comes like that anyway”. My husband quizzes her about the cakes on offer in a fridge over by the front of the shop. He is told twice that she has never had any of the cakes so she doesn’t know what they are like. Eventually she calls over another waitress who is able to describe the texture of a slice of “Death By Chocolate”. He settles for a rocky road, which rather unusually he reports it contains glace cherries and something which resembles and tastes akin to the inside of a jaffa cake. Going on all around us is the hubbub of rushing waitresses, over made up young women in high heels tottering past with their shopping bags. A Chef sweeps past and disappears through a door in front of us. He reappears carrying a non branded bag of frozen thin cut chips. I hear a customer at the bar telling the barmaid that she has waited an hour for food. We pay a little over £8.00 for a two decent coffees and one slice of rocky road, if I had to be dead picky I would say the rocky road should have been served at room temperature rather than ice cold.

On the specials board above us I see the words Quenelle Mash and Lashes of Gravy.

Bexter's Boothstown

Fancied a coffee at this place, on Sunday. Found this. Say no more really. 

The Cobbles Tea Room Holmes Chapel

Holmes Chapel. Home of The Cobbles Tea Room and Harry Styles. We'd spent the day in Alsager, I'd seen a sign for Holmes Chapel on  the way there, so on the way back home  I suggested stopping off at HC for a nosey. Nothing to do with looking for any celebrity sightings or anything like that. Just so I can make that clear. We parked up at Holmes Chapel Shopping Precinct, where you will find; a Bargain Booze,  A Post Office and a Sue Ryder charity shop. A short walk from the precinct, slightly off the beaten track you will find Cobbles. In we went. Danny presumptuously ordered two black coffees at the counter and we ambled off and  found a table in the corner. We were in a stone floored lean to area.  I went for a wee. Upon my return to our table Danny excitedly pointed out that Cobbles served Nespresso coffee. He'd seen it on the menu and proceeded to waft the menu in front of my eyes, pointing vigorously,  "Look, Nespresso!". 
As I looked up from the menu I was distracted by an elderly couple struggling to leave their seats. I espied our waitress, clutching our coffees, standing patiently behind the septuagenarians waiting for an opportune moment to get past them.  She made a few tentative attempts  but the elderly pair didn't sense her presence. The waitress threw me a smirk. Finally, the willowy coffee server  reached our table. The couple were struggling with their coats. Suddenly, our peaceful ambiance was shattered by the sound of the old man's walking stick striking the stone slabs with great force. Danny jumped a mile and I nearly threw my coffee in the air. The old man's wife looked over in our direction and apologised on his  behalf. 
Danny asked the waitress which Nespresso pods she'd used for the coffees. She said she'd used the black ones. "ah, the risretto", said Danny. The waitress said she didn't know they were called that. 
I fancied  a scone, I had seen them on the way in and they looked home made. I ordered one.
The radio was on, Little Things by One Direction came on. Obviously Harry Styles was about to walk in; was what my daughter may have been thinking had she been with us. I didn't think that at all. 
There was a man near the counter telling the staff that he remembered when this place first opened;  that he sat outside because the weather was nice. He said he hadn't sat outside for ages because of the weather. This man took ages to leave the premises. Even Danny, Mr Patience Of The Year 2004, seemed slightly irritated by this man's attention seeking loitering.  "Hasn't he been trying to leave for ages?" Finally the man left and we were the remaining customers. 
Danny's final words to me before I got up and paid the bill were, "Harry Styles will have definitely been here, and he's probably had her". (The waitress). 

example

The Coffee Pot Abbeyfeale Limerick Ireland

We’d driven off the ferry at Dublin at 12 midday to begin our journey down to Ballinskelligs in South Kerry. After three hours in the car, I had back ache and craved something to eat and drink. We decided to stop at the nearest town, Abbeyfeale. The Coffee Pot looked old fashioned enough to attract our attention. Spotlessly clean (the café), we stood as two aliens in front of the fridge and pondered the wares. The difference between a café here in Ireland and one, say, in Eccles is that in Eccles you’d get a Costco cake, or a chocolate Brownie in a packet, made on a production line in Devon. In Ireland the woman serving you in the café is likely to have made all the cakes you see in front of you. The Coffee Pot’s cheesecake looked delicious, so I ordered us a slice each, with a tea and a coffee. We sat at the nearest booth and all our accoutrements were on our table, including the milk for our drinks. In Eccles you’d be up and down, first for cutlery, then for milk, then for serviettes then for something else you’d forgotten, usually a tea spoon or a sachet of ketchup. Café culture in Ireland caters for your every need; at your own table at the end of your own elbow. The cheesecake did not disappoint. I wolfed mine down and asked our waitress if she had made it, she said she had and I had no reason to disbelieve her. I also asked her if we were still in Limerick, she said we were. Just before we left I nipped to the loo.  They weren’t up to much but then that was hardly surprising as I had accidentally used the Gents.

A week later on our way back to Dublin, we stopped at The Coffee Pot again. I saw a lonesome piece of cheesecake in the same fridge we had stood before the week earlier. It had green mould on it.

Vintage Cafe and Bar Church Street Eccles

I've found a new cafe in Eccles. Danny wanted to go home for a coffee,  I insisted on trying Vintage. On the corner next to Eccles Parish Church, we entered Vintage tentatively and slightly self conscious, unusually unfamiliar with an Eccles eatery.  We were greeted by a lovely vanilla smell and the sound of a man's booming voice, pontificating to his friend about the national minimum wage. A lone woman with a tall latte and us two, swiftly followed by two woman and a little boy and Vintage was bustling. One of the women was pushing the little boy's scooter. I observed from the menu that they were serving ristrettos, bet you cant get one of those within a five mile radius. The woman behind the counter allowed us to peruse the menu and the array of food on display, which consisted of paninis, cookies and muffins. We ordered a Latte, an Americano (black separate cold milk) and one chocolate muffin. We parked our backsides at a table in the window. I heard our loud mouthed pony tailed neighbour, stretched out in his chair, right arm slung back, talking about a Ken Loach documentary. Coffees and comestibles arrived on mis-matched crockery, which I absolutely loved and thought was a touch of genius. I detest uniformity, it puts me in mind of an ikea purgatory. The little boy on the next table was presented with a rather large cookie. His female guardian told him she thought the cookie was the size of the sun. The little boy disagreed. For one he said the sun was outside. Next minute the little lad was writhing in his seat and looked in some discomfort, he'd bit his lip on his first bite of the sun sized cookie.Our drinks were spectacular. I ate one of the brown sugar lumps, couldn't resist. The Ken Loach fan was talking about a time someone had the nerve to push in front of him in a queue. When we'd finished we went to the counter to pay. Three pounds fifty for the lot. After we had thanked and complimented her on the food and drink she asked if we drank beer, she told us they had some Czech ales on sale. she gave us a loyalty card and we were on our way. I would now chose Vintage any day over its nearest rival, Season's; which is about twenty yards away. Whilst Vintage is exceptionally reasonable priced, and  unique Season's is tatty, tawdry and backdated. 

Cafe Moods Salford

Everyone who works within the Salford Quays/ Media City area should come and have at least a coffee in Moods. I've been coming here almost every day for donkeys years. My preferred coffee  of a morning  is a filter coffee, dead cheap, but top quality, at £1.50, freshly made. If it's before 11 I'll usually eat two brown toasts or a toasted teacake.  Of an afternoon I can often be found luxuriating in a latte and chocolate brownie. 

The owner, Jay, prides Cafe  Moods on the quality of the coffee, food and service.  What you won't find in here is; staff asking you to repeat your order three times and still getting it wrong,  shouting of orders, intrusive radio playing too loudly, being told you can only have what's out, rudeness, lack of manners, plastic spoons, or UHT milk.  The informal system of service in moods is simply you place your order at the counter,  pay for it and sit down. The staff will bring everything over to you. If you have the pleasure of being served by the owner, Jay, you will find him to be the  perfect gentleman and an exemplary salesman. 

They are even now  open on a Saturday morning. 

Right Jay, that free chocolate Brownie......