Bold Street is Liverpool’s foodie destination. The street throngs with crowds on even the quietest of evenings. Sounds and smells pour from the array of different cafes, restaurants, bars and takeaways as you walk past – offering a passing hint of what awaits, should you venture inside.
The problem with streets like this is that there are so many places, it’s hard to know where to choose. Which places are good and which set up shop here because they don’t have to try as hard?
This is where recommendations from trusted sources – like food-loving friends, come in so handy. They’re especially valuable when dining on your own. You don’t want to go somewhere that doesn’t welcome solo diners, nor somewhere so busy you look out-of-place. You can only really know whether you’re making a good choice if someone else guides you.
That is how I ended up in Maray on Tuesday evening. It’s a small, unassuming venue, and one which is more understated than some of the other venues on the street. That shouldn’t put you off. In fact, I consider it a positive, because it suggests the food will do the talking.
Boy did it do that.
The menu is small, but perfectly formed. LIke so many places now, it’s a small/sharing plate affair. But given its roots are Middle Eastern, this makes sense.
My waitress, Erin, offered me a warm welcome, bringing a carafe of water, before asking whether I’d like wine. She then ran through the options, and even brought me two different choices to sample. I settled on a North Macedonian red from the list of far-flung, Geographically-interesting options. She never stopped moving throughout the evening, offering warm, attentive service to everyone in sight.
Erin also offered some guidance on the menu – helping me settle on an appropriate number of plates and making sure I didn’t miss out on some of the must try options. Her advice was friendly and knowledgeable without being pushy, so I listened to it. And I am glad I did.
I was told to choose 2 to 3 plates (so that meant three). The disco cauliflower was recommended to me by two people before I visited, and then again by Erin. So that was a must.
In addition, I chose the griddled Salsa Macha lamb chop special and sides of pita – served with round, blackened spots of deliciousness and smoky baba ganoush. Those two together were every bit the taste sensation they sound.
The lamb chops might have been the star of the show, were it not for the cauliflower. That’s a sentence I wouldn’t have imagined writing, but yet, as I reflect on the meal, two days later, my view hasn’t changed. The lamb chops were charred, yet moist and served with a delicious sweet sauce, but the cauliflower was something else.
Half a head of cauli was presented to me topped with, and resting on, a series of Middle Eastern treats. If you ever need to make the case for vegetarianism, this could be the dish to do it.
The flavours pack a punch and the cauliflower is the perfect conduit for these, offering taste and texture, which comes from both blanching and roasting. It’s ideal for sharing, as you cut a floret and dip in Arabic deliciousness. Though even on my own, I managed most of this decadent devil.
I finished the meal with a flat white, while reflecting on the pleasure of solo dining – so long as it’s in the right location. Maray was just that.
There are two locations in Liverpool and another in Manchester.
There’s plenty on the menu I still need to try, so I plan to visit them all.
You should too.
The only man in the room 