Roja Pinchos, Liverpool

Anyone who has visited Spain knows the importance of a good pincho. At a euro or two a pop, these morsels sit out on the counter tops of bodegas and bars across the country. The idea: help yourself, keep your plates or cocktail sticks – pincho comes from the Spanish for 'spike' – as a record of what you’ve had, and pay an (ordinarily) small tab when you leave.

From segments of tortilla and stuffed peppers to the teensy open sandwiches and croquetas, they can be elaborate or simple depending on the establishment. Head to San Sebastián and you’ll find that pintxos – as they’re called up there – have become an art form. But, wherever you end up, they always perform two very crucial functions: staving off premature drunkenness and dispensing with the relative formality of sitting down for a 'proper' meal.

Anyone who has visited Liverpool knows that the city has, in the likes of Lunya, Delifonseca and Neon Jamón, a fairly decent rep for Spanish cuisine. So it seems odd that nowhere has tried their hand at what some might term upmarket finger food. Spying a potential gap in the market, Roja Pinchos have swooped in with a helluva lot of wooden sticks and a penchant for red.

Before we get down to things, a word of advice to would-be food reviewers everywhere: if you have the intention of reviewing somewhere after several glasses of wine, make sure it has a menu online to jog your memory. Or make notes. I say this because Roja does not have a menu, either online or offline. Hence you are to some degree at the whim of the kitchen, though it’s safe to assume they’ll be serving the same core range most days. If you absolutely have to know what’s on offer, you’ll need to be resourceful and ring them up on the day.

Luckily for me, I have an infallible memory called an iPhone, which I use to document every last dish. After our waiter, a patient, smiling Barcelonian, reads out the hot specials (we plump for bravas, morcilla croquettes and a sea bass dish), we make a beeline for the room-temperature plates. With no descriptions to guide us, we pick up ruffles of jamón, a cylinder of tortilla, peppers stuffed with what tastes like tuna mayo. On a second foray, there’s smoked salmon atop crab mayonnaise, nut-encrusted goats cheese balls, and manchego with quince.  

There’s nothing groundbreaking here. But it’s not as if I’d write home about most of the many bar snacks I’ve had in Spain. It’s about good produce (for the most part) and simplicity. The sea bass arrives well-cooked; the croquettes have a great crust and they’ve evidently sourced quality morcilla. The bravas are a small but forgivable letdown.    

A big shout-out to our waiter, however. He deals with a spilled glass of wine (a pleasant, food-friendly Sauvignon) without apparent irritation and humours our blatantly unoriginal, not to mention unsolicited, questions: “Why on earth did you move from Barcelona to Liverpool?!”

There’s only one real quibble. And it's not something over which Roja might have much control. Pinchos just don’t feel like good value at the prices you’re likely to find in England. We come away with a bill slightly under £40 including two glasses of wine. Given the element of self-service and the fact that much of the food requires little in the way of preparation, criticism purely in value for money terms is foreseeable.

Migrating this concept from a country with very different eating and drinking habits – and economy, for that matter – is not without its difficulties of course. But Roja is on the right track. 

If you liked Roja Pinchos, try: 

Neon Jamón, Liverpool
Salt House Tapas, Liverpool
Pinchjo's, Manchester