Under a leaden Mancunian sky, I stumbled over cobbles into Cafe North on the edge of the Northern Quarter. A guy in a dirty, crumpled, safari suit with a ZZ-top beard edged past me on his way out, presumably in a rush to use his face-hedge as a shelter for some woodland creatures.

By the cafe’s moniker, I was expecting to be greeted by a couple of whippets and a row of clog dancers. Then I’d pass a cardboard cut-out of Gracie Fields before sitting near Jim Broadbent as he recited ‘My North’. I would then try not to listen to two women, both called Jean, gossiping about their neighbours and banging on about ‘Our John’s verruca’. Sadly this was not the case.

Seated, I expected to hear the dark baritone of Ian Curtis coming out of the speaker above me but alas was assaulted by modern auto-tuned slurry. I reasoned though that it could have been written (by a deaf man) in a toilet in Bury or Oldham.

The interior, though pleasant enough, didn’t feel very Northern either save for the pictures of Oasis, The Smiths and Joy Division on the walls. Then what was I expecting? Bez to climb out of a Happy Mondays poster bring me an Eccles cake? The furniture though was actually quite cool – chairs in a brass/tan colour looked fairly classy and sofas were comfy too. The toilet was inside as expected but perhaps I would prefer an authentic outdoor privy?

The menu has a decent range of scoffing options including a large selection of healthy/unhealthy breakfasts items – Shakshuka, Huevos Rancheros and various fry-ups and pancakes. No mention of Yorkshire Puddings, Lancashire Hotpots or Cumberland Pies. Anyway, I’d had a freebie Holiday Inn breakfast (cardboard toast and stone-cold hash browns) so ordered just a latte which was perfectly adequate.

Thinking of hotpots or rather hotspots, the wifi worked OK and was fast enough. Oh and the staff that I spoke to were chatty, friendly and mainly Eastern European. I assumed though, they would have not said a word to me if this place was called Cafe South.

Like the menu, the clientele was pretty diverse but then this is Manchester and this is the NQ. From Arab businessmen to young influencers to after-gym bunnies to the five swarthy men in the corner looking like they were planning credit-card fraud.

It may not very Northern-themed maybe but looking at the fodder on offer and the contented punters, it must be doing something right. I would have liked to been served by Bernard Wrigley however, or someone else from Bolton rather than the Balkans.

Verdict: 4/5

Good: Food selection. Diverse punters.

Bad: Not very authentic. Diverse punters.