A former cinema, this trendy food hall has been brought to the Macc masses by the team behind Manchester’s Mackie Mayor and Altrincham Market House. The historic building has been transformed into a bustling canteen with nine kitchens and stalls and two bars surrounding a communal seating area.
So you grab a table (as it can be v busy especially at weekends) and then order something scoffsome from one of the stalls and it is then brought to you. Simple? Yes if you can decide what to eat and choose from a number of tempting options ranging from pizza to mackerel to chocolates. Of course, it’s not cheap and you will want to consider extending your overdraft before purchasing anything. Pound Bakery it’s not.
We had a decent latte each and a very passable kanelbullar. We also had a pukka bacon bap and a tower of egg, black pudding and rosti which was also toothtastic.
Wooden floors are topped by study marble-topped tables, walls are adorned with films posters and the usually dangly lights are abound. Films are projected onto the wall and I was guffawing loudly at Laurel and Hardy’s Pardon Us.
There are decent loos (though not that clean) accessible from a disabled ramp. There was also a pancake stall outside but it was far too windy (it is Macclesfield) to bother with that.
As I slurped my coffee I notice I was being stared at. This is not uncommon but it’s usually babies rather than middle-aged women. I had a very overgrown beard and a big coat with a furry hood so I looked like one of those explorers that had gone missing or one of the cast of Fortitude. One short woman, certainly not Amazonian but with a face like a piranha, looked at me like I was an exhibit at some sort of freak show. And this is Macclesfield so there is no shortage here. Her friend, resembling an inflated tomato in a cagoul, coughed and sneezed before giving me the glad eye at random intervals. I turned back towards Stan accidentally knocking Olly over the balcony of a prison landing. More guffawing, sorry everyone!
The place is also dog-friendly so it was dismay that a strange cross-bred pooch started to show is lipstick to the diners just as I was tucking into my bap. Luckily I could distract myself and focus on the squinting face of James Finlayson.
So all good if you turn up when it is not chocca and you have brass in pocket. If you can’t get a table I suggest you gorge on one of the pies at the excellent Lord of the Pies in town. If you can get a table there that is.
Good: A good space, food, films
Bad: Your wallet may scream a little.