COUNTER CULTURE

BEN ARNOLD GRABS A TICKET NUMBER AT LUNCHTIME DELI INSTITUTION KATSOURIS

THERE’S no easy way to say this, but I’ve never been to Katsouris until today.

It feels like a shameful secret, one that’s weighed on me for a while, but now I feel lighter.

Well, I did feel lighter before my lunch. Now, I feel much heavier again and also drowsy.

This lunchtime institution, with its grand gothic stone entrance on the corner of Deansgate and John Dalton Street, has been a standard in the city for nearly a couple of decades.

I consult an oracle of the hastily snatched lunch in the city, a crime reporter of some significant experience and repute.

“Oh yes, a court lunch favourite,” the text fires back quickly.

“The ‘rice box with meat’ is enough to keep anyone - anyone - going for a whole day.

“Solid value and just the right amount of spice.

“Been visiting for what’s probably nearly 20 years, and it’s as good a value budget lunch as anywhere in the city.

“It’s controlled chaos queuing, and attracts all walks - from the office workers to the barristers in Crown and the men and women they’re either prosecuting or trying to keep out of jail.”

I’ve been missing out, there’s no two ways about it.