Sicilian NQ

Sicilian NQ is one of those rare Northern Quarter restaurants that reveals a lot about the makeup of modern Manchester. Alongside the many excellent traditional Sicilian dishes, there’s a finely-honed vegan menu, and that’s why, on a balmy Friday night, if your name’s not down, you’re not coming in. 

It’s a true independent success story, putting their ethics where their mouths are. Word has spread, and the young and meat-free of Manchester have chosen this cosy backstreet restaurant as their new go-to. 

You’ll see a scattering of standard Italian staples, but the menu is very much focused on that southernmost Italian island – and proudly so. To the extent that the cannoli shells are imported from Sicily, as UK versions simply don’t cut it, according to charismatic co-owner Claudio. Now that’s dedizione. 

The decision to treat plant-based dining as an equal, rather than an afterthought, comes from co-owner and animal rights advocate Carmen, who hails from Catania, a city on the east coast of Sicily, based at the foot of Mount Etna. 

Which segues neatly into one of the highlights from the starter section: Mr Mount Etna – an arancino, cutely shaped like that self-same volcano, but filled with slow-cooked ragu, rather than devastating lava. 

The caponata is a chunky, potent bowl of cooked-til-soft vegetables in a sweet-and-sour tomatoey sauce. It’s another must-try, particularly when paired with the salty, soft focaccia bread. 

Both feature on the street food sharing board, showcasing what’s available that day – yours for a bargain £22. More than enough for a midday or post-work snack for you and your amore. 

From the mains, the seafood ravioli – not vegan, sure, but the crashing waves of guilt are worth it for the chives and scallop-packed squid ink squares; particularly the pearl-like clams that require manual, messy scooping with the sweet, garlicky, tangy sauce. 

But the standout dish is the truffle tagliatelle. A big, no-nonsense bowl of pasta, liberally coated with the most nonsensical flavour of them all: black truffle. (An impossibly rare, underground lumpy fungus, snuffled out by educated pigs? Even Enid Blyton would dismiss that as too silly.) 

Real, potent, honking black truffle too. Amateurs need not apply. This is a main course that does the job and then some – perhaps the ultimate dish for these Mediterranean-style summer evenings. 

For dessert, another enormous wooden platter of colourful treats. Some vegan, some not – by this point it’s hard to tell the difference. Herbivorous dining has come a long way in recent years. 

That said, the dish to try is the classic cannolo, grandly listed as Her Majesty: Il Cannolo on the menu. Claudio’s damn right on the shells – the pastry is well-built and robust, delivering a mighty crunch that gives way to an Etna-style blast of Sicilian cream. It’s an experience in its own right, with vegetarian and vegan varieties very much available. 

Sicilian NQ is your Italian nonna who’s been listening to Moby. Rootsy, meticulous Sicilian cuisine, with a side order of moral conscience.