Albion, Crosby

I first tasted Steven Burgess’s food at Liverpool’s Summercamp festival last year, back when the Liverpudlian chef was responsible for Camp and Furnace’s culinary output. Along with a singular performance from Ghostpoet, his No Knives or Forks banquet became one of the lasting impressions of the event. We diners tore, sucked and bit our way through tactile-friendly dishes of langoustines, giant scotch eggs, venison parfait macarons, and a whole suckling pig. It was messy, fun, exciting.    

Now Burgess has parted ways with Camp and Furnace to launch his own venture in a much more diminutive setting, on a quiet street in the heart of residential Crosby. Albion is, given the name, preoccupied with British food, reviving historical dishes much like Blumenthal has done but, we assume, with significantly less anal retentiveness. On the menu a column of dates run alongside the dishes harking back to the 1100s. The only creation to come from this century is the Albion’s take on a fish pie. The wall behind the bar bears the Old English words for ‘welcome’. John Tams comes over the speakers.

As befits such a gamut of British cuisine, this is an almost unambiguously hearty affair: suet puddings, corned beef hash, fish and chips, jam roly-poly. Many dishes that have stood the test of time, known to generations young and old. So, to Crosby on a miserable, slanty-rained afternoon for some toothsome grub.  

To get things underway, some pork dustings with sticky gentleman’s relish; the title of dustings seems a little generous for what are properly crunchy, traditional scratchings. Still, in turns pleasingly salty and ever so slightly sweet, the only regret was not ordering a beer to wash them down with. (Red wine is no match.) The starter special of haggis fritters with pickled neeps is spot on: well seasoned and presented, the sour swede attenuates the rich offal. The Coronation 'Road' Chicken is a joy to behold: dots of coconut mayo, red slivers of chilli, plump raisins and chicken skin are judiciously placed. The flavours are all nicely delineated but the dry, compressed cylinder of chicken would have benefited from more lubrication.  

Mains, however, are a resounding success. The fish special, lemon sole with wild mushrooms and crispy kale, is wonderfully simple. It’s earthy, ozone-y and, considering the whole fish is served, fantastic value at £16. The beef shin falls apart seductively to reveal silky strands of meat, well complemented by the shredded bacon and crispy potato, and finished with a frankly decadent Balmoral sauce. A holy trinity of mushrooms, whisky and cream. So good we asked our waiter to write down an approximate recipe. So good we poured it over the remains of the sole too.

Portion sizes are such that most appetites will be able to stomach a pudding. Cold apple pie and the ‘Poor Knights of Windsor’ (eggy bread with jam and cinder toffee) come recommended so we acquiesce. They both hit the mark, a minor quibble being the astringency of the jam.    

The evening of our visit, a tweet from the Albion Twitter account – after a fully-booked evening service – reads: ‘Thanks to our diners last night, we really do appreciate everyone's support. We've got lots of things to improve on and we will get better.’ The honesty is encouraging. Certainly there are some flaws, but these are sure to be ironed out in the coming months if the team remains receptive to criticism. After all, they’ve been open a matter of weeks. Which perhaps explains why the restaurant is practically empty on this particular afternoon. It ought not to be. Listing their address on their website might help.

If you like this:

The Rose Garden, Manchester

The London Carriage Works, Liverpool

The French, Manchester