Whitebait @ The Pen Factory
13 Hope St, Liverpool, L1 9BQ
Growing up, going out to eat in the city centre generally meant one of two things: Caesar’s Palace on Renshaw Street, for a plate of spaghetti the texture of chewing gum or a grey burger the size of a bin lid, or the Everyman Bistro.
A Liverpool institution to rival the theatre whose yellow-walled basement it occupied, the bistro was a pretty unique proposition – a combination of late bar and continental canteen, where pints of lager and goats cheese quiche were both available long into the evening.
Unsurprisingly the bistro was a favourite of bohemians, luvvies and the city’s upwardly mobile middle classes. The selection at the salad bar – tomato and green bean; potato and caramlised onion; beetroot and apple – was close to legendary. In the mid-90s it was the first place I ever ate an olive – stuck to the top of a thick, square slice of pizza with the pit still at its centre.
In 2011 the Everyman closed for extensive refurbishment and the underground eatery was permanently shut. Fortunately, Paddy Byrne, the man behind the original bistro, opened a new place just a few years later – and a few doors down – on Hope Street.
For almost a decade The Pen Factory has been serving a menu of trend-forward dishes with a focus on locally sourced seasonal produce etc. etc. (you know the drill). The game bird hot pot, baked celeriac with mushroom beurre blanc and cod with caperberries and curry sauce are all current highlights.
The pick, though, has to be the whitebait. Rather than the usual mound of tiny sprats these are flat, thumb-sized size fish, with a crisp, barely-there dusting of golden-fried flour. They taste like the sea at Crosby Beach smells and are served with an excellent, heavily-vinegared saffron mayonnaise.
The Pen Factory – like its forbear – also doubles as one of the best bars at the top end of town, with its small terrace being maybe my favourite place in the city to enjoy an al-fresco bev.
Drinks, outside and inside, can be accompanied by food too – although from the cold bar rather than the kitchen. A plate of crusty bread, salad and a glass of cold beer at the far end of Hope Street – as it was then so it is now.
