If you know your way around Manchester then unless you've been living under a rock for decades, you'll be overtly aware that The Midland Hotel is likely the city's most prestigious and generally stunning hospitality venue.  It's the city's grand dame hotel and is also one of our most important pieces of architecture.  So then, you'd expect its premium dining space to reflect that grandeur, and it certainly does.

Constructed in an era where no expenses were spared, The French is modelled on the Palace of Versailles and it shows.  Towering ceilings and the kind of dining room presence which can't be equalled by still-impressive but modernly fitted out places which could just as easily ended up as an office or retail unit, and may well be one day!

Quite simply, The French is the most beautifully intimate dining room in the whole city, and you simply can't fail to feel special once inside. The word iconic is overused these days, but those entrance doors define the very word.  Sure, there's other grand old spaces in the city which were once banks etc but have segwayed into becoming dining rooms.  But The French was designed almost 125 years ago to specifically be a dining space.  I’ll never forget the very first time I walked into The French over 20 years ago.  It made me feel like a million dollars, and still does to this day.

Nothing to note at all.

2 tasting menus and 2 wine flights stacked up to costing just under £500.  But unlike anywhere else at the truly premium level in the city, that  also includes water, coffee and petit fours, which usually add about £20 per person.  Service charge is also included which in 2025 is exactly as it should be.  The often-added 12.5% arguably reflects the now-aged practice of staff unwillingly working 60+ hour weeks for less than minimum wage.  Fortunately, those days are all but gone.

Broadly it's very good value and perfectly in line with what you'll be asked to shell out at similarly tiered dining rooms.  And it's still notably lower in price than the other two top-level venues in the city centre.  Considering the flashy surroundings and prestigious venue, it's hard to argue against the value one bit!

As ever for total transparency, we were comped two glasses of splendid quality Gusbourne 51 Degrees North on arrival, which I guess would have cost around £70 extra.  As usual, such things create no impact/expectation on what we write here.

Not much to moan about.  It won't ever be cheap, but then you get what you pay for.

But some of the wine mark ups are getting lofty in places, which is expected.  £800 for the super hard to obtain Jacques Selosse Initial bubbly.  Hide in London, who offer arguably the best restaurant wine list in the country, sell it for £650 in comparison.  I’d argue that the tag should start with a 5 in Manchester, even in a nice hotel, but then if you can afford £650 then you can probably also afford £800 without really caring too much about it!

Superbly warm and genuine service has always been non-negotiable at The French.  It's largely carried out by the Chefs themselves and is a touch that we've always loved.  You just can't beat being served by the same people who've prepped the goods as nobody else can have as much passion about that plate.

For the entirely of service the team were engaging, friendly, chatty, and informative.  That wasn't the case only with us but rather with every single surrounding table.  It's only natural that venues recognise us after how long we've been in the game, but when the same standards are applied to all, you know that a consistently great job is being done.

Wine service, as much as it was charming and done with the same warmth as mentioned above, lacked a bit of fluency on the evening.  The usual Somm was taking a no doubt well-earned evening off as much as his presence was still felt and appreciated via that pre-mentioned comped glass of Gusbourne 51 Degrees North.

So as ever we visited for the food above any other factor.  The menu is laser focused and its descriptions mince no words with each course being described in a to-the-point manner.  Shellfish. Vegetable. Fish. Meat. Cheese, etc; I guess it saves reprinting menus when a protein or sauce changes.  There was a minor MS Word autocorrect on the wine blurbs that only a wine geek like us would spot anyway, which we pointed out here just in case you also spot it and think that we didn’t.  We mentioned it on the night and it no doubt led to an ironic reprinting.

The first course is Adam's signature sourdough, made in collab with Pollen and served with whipped beef butter.  The plating may vary from recent visits, but the goods remain the same.  Top quality bread with a splendid mousse-like whipped butter.  It made me happy to see this still landing at the very start of the entire menu, rather than a few courses in as it has on occasion over the years.  Bread should always be broken when you first sit, and be served warm.  Call me old fashioned, and I'll thank you.

The French's snacks are always something to look forward to, although to be honest they've slowly evolved into mini courses which each warrant more than a single bite.  The cheese and onion pie/croustade remains as hefty as always, and is still crammed with a ton of cheese along with some sweet onion puree hiding at the depths.  This was just an experience of texture, balance and intensity of flavour.  I suspect that croustades will start disappearing from tasting menus within the next couple of years as they've had their 15 minutes/5 years of fame in every posh dining room across Europe and America, but if that happens then I'll miss this course greatly.

The second 'snack' wasn't a snack, as touched on above. It was a cutlery-free course listed as 'Toast' on the menu, and was served with a glass of classic Gusbourne.  A lamination of toast, Cumbrian Beef and some superlative blowtorched/smoked eel.  It was the kind of flavour hit which tasting menus usually wait a few courses in to deliver.  This was 3, or 4, bites of joy.

The now trademark smoked ham was as hard-hitting as ever.  Iberian pigs, reared in the UK and marinated for 7 days, and then smoked and glazed in honey and muscovado sugar.  Splendidly cooked, making a seemingly simple product into something truly elevated.  The tear and share loaf this this came served with was light, fluffy, glazed perfectly, and was an improvement on last year’s iteration.

Shellfish was, an early star of the show, probably the table's favourite of the whole evening.  Cured scallop served Aguachile style.  The sauce was so well pitched and measured in terms of hitting every part of your palate, and the scallop itself was outstanding quality, confidently speaking for itself without the need for any heat-based cooking at all.  Head Chef Blaise personally served this one with a big smile, and you could sense that he was proud of it.  He had good reason to be.  Exceptional, and a dead cert for our annual best dishes in Manchester list come December.

The Vegetable course was a superb Courgette flower, stuffed with courgette ragu and served with grilled courgette skin puree, toasted yeast mousse and wild garlic.  The whole thing was then covered in a blanket of scented Australian Winter truffle, Microplaned at tableside to add to the theatrics.  A meaty dish despite containing no meat at all.

Monkfish was the fish course of the evening.  Now I ate monkfish at a Starred place over in Yorkshire exactly a week prior to this meal, so things were still super fresh in the mind.  Last week I rejoined the M62 wondering where that famous Yorkshire generosity in portion size had gone.  No such issues at The French though thanks to a couple of sturdy tranches, topped with an equally as generous spoon of Exmoor Caviar, in a stunning sauce which carried pinpoint acid balance.  Joyous.

The meat course comprised of Lamb and some delicate mushrooms; my favourite animal protein, along with my favourite vege item.  Super rich yet light, with a wonderful sauce duo which did as it should; tied the whole plate together.  A fitting main course which was well enjoyed with a splendid glass of youthful yet superbly well paired Margaux.

The cheese course represented the end of the salt-based courses and was served in French sequence, albeit with a very English cheese.  A tableside scoop from the world's biggest Baron Bigod wheel, blowtorched at tableside and then topped with chutney, finished off with a circular biscuit which when lifted revealed the goods.

With the last of the salt-based courses down, I was time for a sweeter course which was baked Fig Leaf Custard with a multitude of raspberry preparations from a sorbet, a sauce and a tuile.  A super fresh and well textured dish which always pleases. I have to be honest; ahead of arrival I saw this dish still on the menu and thought ‘it’s time to come off’. 

It’s always been a great dish but this was an improvement on the past. The tuile was more refined and there's now the addition of a few drops of herb oil so the plate has moved on somewhat.  Progression is as good as coming off.

Our last course of the evening was the tipsy cake, another Adam Reid signature.  A baba-esque sponge laced with Scotch Whisky, a dollop of cream and some grated orange zest to temper all that punch.  I've said it before, but after all these years you just expect this dish and look forward to it ending your experience.  It's a post-dessert, akin to some petit fours.

Last up was a pot of tea, complete with brewing timer and a couple of chocolate truffles.  And just like that, our most recent Adam Reid experience drew to a close, as we sat and took in that unbeatable ambiance in peace for a short while. 

However; the toast course was literally too big to fit in my mouth.  I had to eat it sideways, somehow.  To be fair, I have a small mouth which admittedly contradicts the noise which emanates from it.  My dining accomplice had no problems though.

The courgette flower was delicious throughout, but lacked textural variety which would have made it more interesting in mouth feel across the plate.  

And the Tipsy Cake; I’m not sure of the whisky dousing.  Last year's Salford Spiced Rum and lime zest was the perfect tag team combo.  I missed it on the evening due to that mental comparison, but if you like whisky then fine.  I just personally don’t.  This one is more of a preference so I considered leaving comment off, but the hyper locality of the retired rum was still a factor.

There's a good reason behind The French sitting at the very top of our list of best restaurants in the city for well over a decade.  We score on the whole package and measure things objectively, as is the only fair way to judge anything credibly rather than via mere opinions/ego.

In recent months an overseas colleague and even complete strangers on social media have voiced their opinion that other spots in Manchester are now ‘better’, than The French.  I see their point as everyone differs in what constitutes a great experience and away from these professional blurbs, it’s a massively subjective topic.  Do some people feel ‘special’ going to a place simply because that place carries a Michelin Star?  Do they feel like a champion when visiting a newly launched place that's hard to get a table at?  Probably yes to both.  

Do I personally?  No, not at all these days.  I’ve been around the block too many times for any of that to matter.  But do I see people's point that Manchester's other 2 'big' venues are in the conversation around being the 'best'.  Of course I do.  But as I say, this isn’t about opinions, it’s about measured facts.

If you’d asked me 25 years ago as a super keen yet not that well eaten ‘foodie’, how much of the overall dining experience is accounted for by the food alone, I’d probably have said 80%.  The décor and service didn’t matter to me that much, nor did the value to be honest.  All I cared about was the food and crossing off as many Starred venues as I could with each month’s salary.  Almost 3 decades and 4 enjoyable stones later, now sporting a spontaneous eyeroll whenever I even hear the word ‘foodie’; that viewpoint has matured somewhat.  The food now accounts for more like 50% of the experience, so it's still easily the overriding factor, or at least it should be.  It’s a restaurant after all. 

But the service, ambiance and value all matter to different degrees depending upon who you are or whatever you’re looking for, but they are all important parts of the experience.  Sure, much of it’s in the eye of the beholder and some things can’t be measured, but I had the same debate with a peer a few months back and he was certain that its 80% about the food.  I then asked how he’d feel about paying £450 for Ynyshir’s tasting menu if it were served in our local boozer.….. it was an exaggerated comparison which spotlighted the ambiance, service and indeed value, as all being important factors.  He didn’t have a reply, which was one in itself.  

We are talking tiny margins here, literally small %s on our scorecard, but as a complete package which appropriately scores and weights all factors, nowhere in Manchester beats The French.

Few buildings in Manchester can match the majestic grandeur of The Midland Hotel, in fact, I can't think of any which really compare. It's Manchester's most iconic building for good reason. Modern grey glass simply can't even come close to rivalling the history and presence that comes from a 120 year old establishment such as this.

Once you've crossed the foyer and climbed the small flight of steps up to palatial doors of The French itself, you already sense that a treat is to follow. There's a new doorbell outside which is a nice touch as it heightens anticipation, and also allows the doors to be closed to protect guests from the often-noisy foyer outside.

When inside there's nothing quite like it in the city. Grand, yet still small and intimate, setup with a clear focus on the dining experience. You can just feel the history behind those walls. It's a truly special place and one which I've adored for decades and always will.

The Chef in occupancy way back before the room's 2013 refurb once said to us, 'I could serve Pot Noodles in here and they'd still taste good'. I generally agree and see what he was getting at, but fortunately we had our sights focused a bit higher up on this occasion.

Not much really.  It's a lovely spot.  And no Pot Noodles anywhere to be seen.

2 tasting menus and 2 tipsy flights came to £460.    Bear in mind that this includes water, coffee and petit fours, which usually add about £20 per head in top end places.  Here, there's no unexpected additions and service charge is truly at the discretion of the diner so not automatically added, which in 2024 is how it should be and how many London operators now do it.  Remember back in the day when everywhere started adopting the London practice of adding a 'discretionary' 12.5%, and we all moaned about it?  People need to follow The French's northern lead

All in all it's good value and perfectly in line with what you'll pay at any such accoladed venue, and still considerably cheaper than the other  2 'Big 3' venues in the city centre by a solid £100+ per person.

Nothing out of the ordinary. It's pretty pricy, sure, but then so's a Porsche. And there's a valid reason for that.

So onto the bit which really matters, as much as some may be adamant that it's an evenly weighted package deal.  I agree with that to an extent, but then the contents are the best part of any good package, and we came here to eat rather than look at the nice embellishments.

The first course is Adam's now trademark sourdough and beef butter course.   It just can't come off the menu and has evolved into a tin loaf, rather than from a banneton.  First class bread with a whipped butter that's so light that it comes to the table piled high like a Mr Whippy.  The bread itself is served warm, as it should be.  Over the years the running order of this course has changed, but I prefer it bang at the start as per on this visit.

Snacks are always a highlight at The French, and they didn’t let us down this time either.  The cheese and onion pie/croustade is as substantial as you could hope for, loaded with masses of cheese flavour. It's the familiar yet elevated flavours which Adam Reid has made his trademark.  The second snack was a superlative chicken skin cracker, topped with dressed lobster and some shredded greenery as garnish.  Lobster and chicken skin in the same bite can only equate to happiness. 

Finally in the snack department was a tranche of fried bread which acted as a platform for some Cumbrian beef tartare, topped with some superb quality caviar.  Outstanding. We also loved the Kintsugi repair on the plate which this snack came plated on.  More places need to do this rather than lazily discarding cracked/chipped crockery.

Cold Cuts came in the form of the always superb ham.  Iberian pigs, reared in the UK and marinated for 7 days, and then smoked in honey and muscovado.  On the night it was served with a tableside-quenelled spoon of wholegrain mustard.  More bread was served with this course, only this time it was Hokkaido style milk bread, of course glazed with honey butter.  A simple but uber flavourful course.

Onto the mains and things started with a bang via some Lobster tail.  Perfectly cooked protein, plated in an 'American' sauce, which IMO is the best sauce to ever cross the pass at The French.  Add to that some ramson oil and a cash of cayenne, and this dish started the proper menu at a sprint.

Hen of the Woods is a love or hate ingredient, but fortunately any kind of 'shoom is on my top shelf of most beloved foodstuffs.  On serving, Head Chef Blaise advised that it's his current fave.  Toasted yeast mousse and a generous Microplane of hugely scented Hungarian truffle finished the menagerie.  Earth, deep, delicious, rich.  Autumn in a bowl.

Turbot was the fish course, and more evidence of top quality, luxury produce being showcased here.  The flatfish came to the table, plated alone, but was soon joined with a superb brown butter sauce, some punchy chive oil and more caviar; made to Adam's spec by Exmoor Caviar, carrying a light smoke.  A lesson in restraint and flavour delivery.

Chicken, from Rhug Estate in Wales, was exemplary quality poultry and it's great to see the humbly perceived chicken on a premium tasting menu alongside more spenny items of produce.  Brined breast, slow cooked with crispy skin, finished with tarragon oil and a classic butter sauce.  Because you can't have too much butter.  And speaking of indulgent, some shaved truffle completed the plate.

Rhug Estate Lamb, was a nice off menu surprise course which again wasn’t included on the bill, but should be on the menu by the time you read this.  Lamb short rib, smoked over lavender served with preserved ramson berries and a simply stunning sauce.  You're in for a treat with this one, as the seasons change and red meat becomes more apt.

The relatively recent trend of a meal's cheese course coming as a dish, rather than via some wedges with chutney and crackers, is one which I approve of.   In this instance it was a slice of Baron Bigod, blowtorched at tableside until bubbly and then topped with some apple reduction, a prune and Armagnac chutney, then topped with a shard of walnut biscuit.  A cheeseboard, interpreted as a dish. Clever and delicious.

With the last of the salt-based courses down, I was time for a sweeter course which was baked Fig Leaf Custard with a multitude of raspberry preparations from a sorbet, a sauce and a tuile.  A super fresh and well textured dish which always pleases.

Last up was the tipsy cake, another Adam Reid signature.  For those who've yet to try it, you can expect a rum baba type dish.  Soft sponge, laced with Salford Spiced Rum along with a light Microplane of lime yest to deliver a massively perfumed hit, and some whipped cream.  Simple, delicious, and this can't ever come off the menu either, as much as it's changed and evolved over the years.

However; the milk bread lacked colour/crust so the glaze had started to mar the texture.  The lobster snack's lettuce garnish was impossible to eat in two bites, and messily dragged off in one, leaving the rest of the snack sans garnish.

And watch the amount of dishes which involve herb oil.  Sure, there was a few different flavoured oils and they were all delicious and worked, but be careful to not let things get repetitive.

That’s it, which across so many courses is a solid showing.

The French's service has always been top notch, striking that all important/Manchester friendly balance of being precise, yet still relaxed and approachable.  We just don’t like it any other way in Mcr.

The always fantastic Dima heads up things in FoH, and also pulls the strings with the French's wine offering.  We mentioned to him in passing a few weeks ago that we were dying to try the wonderful Gusbourne 51 Degrees North which isn't available by the glass anywhere else that I can think of, but The French duly oblige.  We arrived and were greeted with 2 glasses of it, which is wonderful detail and a superb wine to boot.  For transparency, we were not charged for this glass of wine.

All evening the team were fun, friendly, chatty and measured the chattiness barometer of all the tables around them, returning the same level of interaction.

And whilst service charge is included in the bill, be a saint and add a bit more.

A few new faces were on duty, and a couple of nerves seemed apparent.  We are all human, plus they'd possibly been versed that this piece was incoming.  No pressure eh?  But to those concerned I say; never feel nervous around food writers or supposed 'critics'. Most of us couldn't ever do your job, many don’t even directly pay for their dinners, and without you our job wouldn't exist.  So you have nothing at all to fear as you're the A-side.  Be yourself and relax.

I was fuming when after years of senseless denial, Michelin had the absolute cheek to host their '24 awards at The Midland, with Adam's team prepping the snacks under the nose of all involved, only to then overlook The French for a Star yet again whilst also seeing fit to handout premature stars to a couple of newly launched places in London, as ever.  In many ways I don't care as I stopped going to restaurants simply because they have Stars, Bibs or Assiettes about 15 years ago. 

I generally have no issue with anyone getting an award even if I personally don’t think that it's warranted, as the whole subject is just massively opinion based and is way too subjective to be truly consistent anyway.  It is what it is.  But it just irks me when people have worked their backside off for years and have easily done enough to get one, yet then miss out for whatever reason other than standards, whether it be politics, who owns the host venue, bias, or just plain ignorance.  In this case, it has nothing to do with service, ambiance, value, or what's on the plate.  Those are the only things which should be considered in any guide's assessment metrics, as per our own scorecard.  It should never be about opinions as much as they are good for the ego to broadcast; it should be about measured facts and nothing else.  Anyway, rant over.

So, we ended our last visit to The French feeling that generally, it had moved on via a few tweaks and was broadly serving the best food that it's ever done. The same can be said again on this visit. Dishes have become more stripped back with a laser-like focus on the key ingredient, in this case super premium ones. Lobster, caviar, turbot, truffles. It's as top shelf as it gets really. The focal-point proteins are garnished and sauced with more quality to deliver something truly delicious. And that's the real skill here; delivering something which seems simple and yet is far from that, in reality. 

Then there's the non-food related changes to little things which we moaned about last time.  There's now nice front of house Microplanes for during the tableside theatrics.  And we now have hooks under the perimeter tables for the ladies' bags, rather than us putting them on the floor.  Such details are essential at premium venues.  90% of customers wouldn’t notice or even care about such things even if they did notice, but for us it's all about details and that’s how it should be at this elevated operating environment.

Small changes, every year, year on year, constantly getting better and questioning absolutely everything from the booking process, the welcome, the physical menu, the cutlery, main event, to the bill presentation, to the coat collecting, to the goodbye.  Every single facet of the experience from the second you consider booking should be evolved and shook up, constantly.  That mindset has been clearly evident over the last 2 years at The French.

Too many courses sport green herb oil.  And I still miss Henry's cracker… but then as I say, it's about facts not opinions, plus things have to move on and all that.