{"id":2124713,"date":"2023-11-24T11:41:42","date_gmt":"2023-11-24T11:41:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thebusinessdesk.com\/northwest\/news\/2124713-gone-dining-thom-hetherington-at-wreckfish"},"modified":"2023-11-24T20:46:18","modified_gmt":"2023-11-24T20:46:18","slug":"gone-dining-thom-hetherington-at-wreckfish","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thebusinessdesk.com\/northwest\/news\/2124713-gone-dining-thom-hetherington-at-wreckfish","title":{"rendered":"Gone Dining: Thom Hetherington at Wreckfish"},"content":{"rendered":"

Gone Dining, November 2023.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wreckfish (soon to be Wreck Bistro), 60 Seel St, Liverpool L1 4BE.<\/span><\/p>\n

https:\/\/www.wreckfish.co\/<\/span><\/a><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u201cRestaurants are never pleased to see me\u201d, said my friend, artist Simon Buckley, of <\/span>Not Quite Light<\/span><\/a> and Rainstorm fame. \u201cIt\u2019s always a bit embarrassing.\u201d Simon is pescatarian by choice and avoids both gluten and dairy through necessity. Apparently not every chef welcomes him with open arms. \u201cDon\u2019t worry\u201d, I say, \u201cThey\u2019ll be all over this, they\u2019ll love you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"My breezy confidence stemmed from the fact that our lunch was at <\/span>Wreckfish<\/span><\/a> in Liverpool (soon to be Wreck Bistro, but that\u2019s a <\/span>whole other story<\/span><\/a>), and Wreckfish is an <\/span>Elite Bistros<\/span><\/a> joint, and Elite Bistros is Gary Usher\u2019s restaurant group, and Gary and his team are obsessively all over the detail of everything, always, including accommodating allergies and dietaries.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He is a mercurial, maverick chef-turned-restaurateur who struck gold via the uncanny business model of turning the restaurant sector on its head whilst also revitalising its fading dining traditions. I could write an entire column about Gary alone, but I\u2019ll summarise some key points here:<\/span><\/p>\n

His counterintuitive marketing strategy with his first restaurant, <\/span>Sticky Walnut<\/span><\/a> in Chester, was to post endless photos of simmering stockpots and desperately quiet lunch services on social media until everyone gave in and turned up. Whilst building his empire he eschewed private equity et al, instead pioneering hospitality crowdfunding, raising \u00a3200k in a mere twenty-eight days to open Wreckfish. Like many operators he survived Covid with \u2018cook at home\u2019 boxes, but post-pandemic he boldly bought a big industrial shed and flipped that emergency revenue stream into a thriving wedding and events catering business.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

So not your average operator, but what of the food? Gary learned his trade under industry legends like <\/span>Angela Hartnett<\/span><\/a>, and in the kitchens of revered restaurants such as <\/span>Chez Bruce<\/span><\/a> and <\/span>The Chester Grosvenor<\/span><\/a>. So yes, whilst there are zeitgeisty touches \u2013 spiced butters, pickling and foraging, retro-inspired desserts – beneath it all sits a depth of technical knowledge which powers rich stocks and glossy sauces, poured over dishes of deep flavours and bright colours, all forged into three tight courses, offered as an affordable set menu or a la carte.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s a timeless dining format your grandparents would have recognised if they\u2019d put on their glad rags and splashed out at their local fancy hotel dining room, and Gary has helped to bring it back into vogue.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Simon arrived on time and sat down with an apologetic wince. I responded with a smug smile, sliding the menus across the table with all the confidence of a card sharp who was safe in the knowledge that the queen was secreted somewhere about their person. There was a lunch menu, hand-annotated to indicate which dishes suited his dietaries, and a dedicated gluten and dairy-free a la carte menu, full of joy and adventure, with only two meat dishes neatly struck through with biro.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Simon\u2019s face lit up, which ironically was not unlike the urban luminescence he captures in his photography.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"Talking of light, Wreckfish is full of it. It\u2019s a handsome Georgian block in Liverpool\u2019s edgily creative Ropewalks district, fine-boned and as symmetrical as a supermodel, tall windows flooding the floorboards and brick walls with a golden glow. Nature\u2019s own light ring. The ground floor has an open kitchen and a small bar, with more intimate seating and a secluded private dining room downstairs.<\/span><\/p>\n

Snacks came and went and hit the spot as our small talk clicked through the gears. Simon took delivery of an endive salad with sweet mustard, walnuts, and port and grape dressing. I had gone for the lamb breast, lightly frazzled to render the fat. It came zinging with dukkah and smoked garlic honey, curled up like an ammonite on a pat of smoked garlic butter bean pur\u00e9e, and topped with a sprig of fris\u00e9e to preserve its modesty.<\/span><\/p>\n

Main for Simon was the pan-fried fillet of wreckfish with golden raisins, pine-nut and salted lemon dressing, swiss chard and confit garlic and olive oil mash. I also went for the fish, but out of selfishness rather than solidarity. It takes a stronger man than me to skim past halibut on a menu, especially when served with cavolo nero, roasted and pickled hen-of-the-woods mushrooms, and hazelnut cream.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Both fillets were superbly cooked, flaking with the push of a fork. Simon\u2019s wreckfish was held together by a rectangle of neatly slashed and briskly crisped skin, taut as a hawser, whilst beneath that his mash was night cream smooth, the lemon dressing sweet, sharp, and layered. The hazelnuts in my own dish had a pleasing bitterness from toasting in the pan, and the mushrooms gave up umami juices, split with a spike of vinegar which cut through the nutty, buttery cream.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

And these dishes encapsulate Gary\u2019s approach. A mix of bitter and sweet, softness and crunch, with plenty of acidity and grown-up, punchy flavours. It takes both rare talent and extensive R&D to meld so many strong elements into cohesive wholes. Like a perfect three-minute pop song each dish hits with big riffs and sweet hooks, chorus after bridge after chorus leaving you dizzy with dopamine. But as the last notes die away, you can\u2019t help but want to reach for the repeat button.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The accompanying wine list was a neatly compact effort, but as the wine of the day was not to my taste \u2013 torront\u00e9s is a little too floral for me \u2013 we played safe with an easy-drinking El Coto Rioja Blanco made mostly with Viura grapes. Service throughout was both unobtrusive and as sharp as a pin, as evidenced by the promptly hand-annotated menus.<\/span><\/p>\n

Simon is one of the most thoughtful and intriguing people you could ever hope to meet, a polymath of unexpected conversational turns. As we finished our puddings, including an exemplary poached pear soft enough to cut with a blunt spoon, he and I wound down a discussion which had covered politics, urban regeneration, coping with trauma, friends and eccentrics we both knew well, and the philosophical notion of \u2018what is <\/span>enough<\/span><\/i>?\u2019.<\/span><\/p>\n

Restaurants are about creating experiential, social spaces where people want to linger – a backdrop to their own interactions. If you get hospitality right – not just the food and the service but prosaic fundamentals like light, acoustics, and temperature – people will stay. And a classic three course bistro structure suits this, it has human scale and rhythms, with fewer interruptions than torturous high concepts or convoluted tastings.<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019ll leave the final words to Simon, spoken as he pulled on his coat and we made ready to leave, much later than we intended. \u201cI\u2019d forgotten what it\u2019s like to eat food that intensely tasty\u201d he said, a beatific smile on his face. \u201cIt\u2019s made me really, <\/span>really<\/span><\/i> happy.\u201d I don\u2019t think you could pay any restaurant a higher compliment, and that\u2019s not a bad note to end on.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Petit Fours<\/span><\/p>\n