Demolished: manteca Reviewed
Nose-to-tail devouring at Shoreditch
The occasion was Puppetmaster’s birthday (read: it wasn’t. Puppetmaster’s birthday is in August, but we couldn’t schedule a rendezvous until mid-September). I was balancing the weight of a thousand suns (read: one full matcha mille crepe cake from Kova) for a full thirty minutes down to try manteca, a “nose-to-tail” Italian restaurant on Curtain Road, by Aulia’s suggestion.
manteca’s website reads: “a nose-to-tail italian-inspired restaurant. we focus on whole-animal butchery, hand-rolled pastas, wood-fired breads, and our own in-house salumeria”.
Picture the Platonic conception of a pig (horizontally). Nose-to-tail just means you’re utilising the whole animal. If the hand-rolled pasta isn’t sufficient motivation to make the trek East, who can resist la bütcherié of ze whole animale?
Coincidentally or otherwise, Puppetmaster’s birthday gift this year from the two puppets (me and Aulia) was a whole jamon leg, complete with a wooden stand and slicing knife, so cured meats seems to be a recurring theme here. Puppetmaster seems more interested in the pig’s leg bone than the meat and has already begun plotting how to bleach and preserve it best — but as long as she likes the gift, the cookie can crumble whichever way it likes.
In any case, after a nerve-wrecking hike down Aldgate and Liverpool Street, I finally arrived at manteca with the cake, safe and sound. The Curtain Road branch is very cozy — it’s small and buzzes with activity, and is decorated in the classic Shoreditch indie restaurant warm-lighting-plus-wooden-furniture-etc style that sort of invokes the vibe of a Scandinavian home. I was directed downstairs to the basement for our reservation, which was hot and tightly-packed, but the ambience was decent for a restaurant that is that busy. It’s an Asian thing to be willing to give a lot of concessions as long as the food is as yummy as it promises to be.
Walking down the stairs into the baseement, you’re presented with rows and rows of hanging drying salami, which is a testament to their 1) in-house curing 2) nose-to-tail situation. I sit down. Aulia and the Puppetmaster arrive soon after. The Puppetmaster did not expect this — there was a elaborately constructed lie involved about Aulia losing her airpods and having to meet her aunt at the restaurant to get them back.
We order. The Puppetmaster asks for a singular ice cube, and the staff brought her a whole cup “just in case your one ice cube melts”, which kind of cooked the three of us. But the ice was good.
Below is manteca’s menu for your quick reference, prices and all (decently affordable for London pricing):
All the dishes (even the pasta) were shared between the three of us, which is also what manteca recommends, but is something to note if it’s not up your alley.
DISH 1 - ‘NDUJA STEAMED MUSSELS, CREAM, PARSLEY
I was deeply hesitant about ordering this dish. Every other time I’ve had mussels in the UK, they just ended up tasting very strongly of dishwasher / sewer water, and it sort of brought this imagery of mussels absorbing gross water into my mind that I wasn’t able to eradicate — until this dish. The mussels had a very delicate sweetness and no dishwasher whiplash (thankfully), but the crazy thing about this dish was the sauce. The sauce is made from ‘nduja, which is a spreadable Italian sausage mixed with Calabrian chilli peppers, and it was sickeningly good. Slightly spicy, savoury with complexity, and creamy in the best way without being too rich. Tasting it felt like trying mentaiko sauce for the first time. The fishiness of the mussels was completely counteracted by the decadence and tang of the sauce, which justified every thesis out there about combining food from both the sea and the shore (I believe in surf and turf now).
The real cincher? There was a piece of toast under the mussels, crunchy and slowly soaking up all the sauce. I am not kidding when I say this whole bowl was devoured in seconds and scraped clean by us. My personal favourite of the night. 9/10.
DISH 2 - LUMACHE, KALE SAUCE, CHILLI
Lumache refers to the pasta shape, which resembles snail shells. The is pasta coated with the forest green kale sauce and topped with cheese and chilli flakes. The word for this dish to me is cohesive. You bite into the lumache, and it gives you exactly what you expect — a simple, wholesome, starchy bite played against the umami of the cheese and the chilli flakes. The kale sauce steals the show, which is really surprising because unlike the ‘nduja, it doesn’t have a particularly strong or intense flavour. Yet, it persists.
This particular pasta shape helps retain most of the sauce, giving you this juicy wholesome mouthfeel that never gets too leafy. It’s mild but addictive, refreshing but still holds its own. 8/10.
DISH 3 - CREEDY CARVER DUCK, GRILLED BREAST, SAUSAGE, PLUM
This duck isn’t on the menu above, so I think there are a couple of dishes that rotate out (possibly seasonally). Duck in London has rarely let me down, and this was no exception. Chewy, tender, with that perfect layer of fat that is never too much, paired with the almost Asian sauce. The nuts were the perfect pairing, but we all enjoyed the plum in particular — sweet, soft without being mushy, no tartness, and a great juxtaposition with the savoury sauce. The sausage was decent, but nothing to shout about.
My problem with this dish is that it was reminiscent of Asian roasted duck, but it didn’t even perform up to par to the average Asian roasted duck in terms of intensity of flavour or originality of pairings. 7/10, if I’m being strict.
BONUS - KOVA MATCHA CREPE CAKE
We were really pleasantly surprised when the staff at manteca carried out the candles, lit, to the table and sang happy birthday to the Puppetmaster. The whole of the basement joined in, which was slightly embarrassing but a really lovely experience overall. I’ve done a review of sweets before from Katsute 100, so believe me when I say that Kova’s matcha crepe cake is really up there in terms of sweet treats — that intense, authentic, high-quality matcha flavour, differentiated, crisp crepe layers, light, airy cream — it’s standard, it’s good, there’s nothing much to complain about or comment, except for the fact that it’s definitely a lot less dense and structured if you’re comparing to, for instance, a standard Lady M cake. That is, however, a complete matter of preference. 8/10.
BONUS - ICE SIDEQUEST
For some strange reason, on the way back from the restaurant, there was a pile of ice cubes on the sidewalk, almost like a manufactured White Christmas (likely residual ice from the closed bar next to it). We stepped in it but it was really slippery and felt strange. 7/10.
Final Thoughts:
Aulia: Manteca feels the itch that you’ve been wanting to scratch all day but couldn’t since you need to take of your clothes to be able to itch it properly but you’re in public so you can’t take it off since Manteca is a pain to book but when you itch it it’s the most satisfying thing ever and the booking and waiting was all worth it. 8.5/10.
Puppetmaster: When i was younger i had a dream where I got stuck in one of those playground machines at the mall, and everyone from school just walked by, laughing and eating popcorn from a movie I wasn’t invited to. When I asked for more ice from the waiter, it felt a bit like that. But honestly, the first taste of the mussels was like having a mall pretzel after a long day and I can really appreciate that. 7.5/10
Jade: manteca’s sauces are truly the name of their game. Probably smart to get the focaccia next time to soak up and munch all the sauces from everything. 8/10.