The restaurant's brass rosette and ARMENIAN lettering on a pale wall, lit by a shaft of sunlight
Manchester · Since 1968

Our Story

Three families, fifty-eight years, one charcoal grill.

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Arman and Arusyak at Armenian, Manchester

Arman.
Arusyak.

The Third Family

Arman and Arusyak came to Manchester from Armenia and took on a restaurant that had already been here for decades. They are the third family to run it, and they arrived knowing exactly how Armenian food should taste. Everything since has served that: the charcoal, the lavash, the meze that arrives all at once.

The front of Armenian on Princess Street: arched sandstone windows, the round gold sign, planters and pavement tables

1968.

The restaurant opened in 1968. There was no Armenian restaurant in Manchester then, and very little Armenian food anywhere in Britain: a handful of places in London, and almost nothing outside it.

It has changed hands twice since, and for decades it was known as the Armenian Taverna. It has never stopped being Armenian.

Amir in a white chef's shirt, leaning on the onyx counter at the pass with the kitchen behind him
In the Kitchen

Amir.

See the menu

Our kitchen, where all of it happens

The Grill

Live charcoal, all day

The grill is lit before service and stays lit until the last order. Everything that leaves it is cooked to order.

The Morning

Made fresh, by hand

The borek is folded by hand every morning, the way it has been since 1968.

The Pass

Meze first, all at once

Plates go out together, not in courses. The table fills up, and everyone reaches.

Charcoal-grilled chicken with a pomegranate salad on a green plate A cook lifting freshly baked bread out of the oven Baba ghanoush in a white bowl on a marble table
Marinated meat skewers grilling over glowing charcoal
The Grill

Someone is always at the fire.

Charcoal, lavash, wild greens and pomegranate. That's most of the secret.

Six dishes and where they come from

Grilled meat with salad and red wine on a marble table, with a guest reaching in with a fork

Khorovats

In Armenia, khorovats is an occasion. One person takes charge of the fire and everyone else waits. Ours is cooked over charcoal and served with fresh onions and herbs: lamb, ribeye, chicken thigh, pork or whole sea bass.

Seen from above: boat-shaped bread with egg and cured beef, and a stuffed aubergine with carrot salad, with red wine on a marble table

Yerevan Khachapuri

Ajaruly khachapuri: slightly spicy basturma baked in home-made bread, topped with egg and melted cheese.

Seen from above: layered nut pastry with honey on a pale green plate, with kiwi and mint, beside brandy and coffee

Paklava

Pastry, walnuts and honey. Armenian paklava is less sweet than its neighbours', spiced with cinnamon and clove instead of rosewater. Have it with an Armenian coffee.

Lavash

Thin, soft, blistered from the oven wall. Tear it, wrap things in it, use it instead of a fork. Ask for it warm at the start and it'll still be on the table at the end.

Stuffed vine leaves in a row on a white plate, with a small bowl of yoghurt dip and a pickled salad

Dolma

Vine leaves rolled around spiced minced lamb, rice and herbs, with jajuk. Every Armenian family swears theirs is the right one. This kitchen has made this one for decades.

Pasus Dolma

The fasting version, and the older one: pickled cabbage leaves around bulgur, lentils, chickpeas and beans, made for the days without meat. Vegan long before anyone called it that.

More from the kitchen

Seen from above: boat-shaped bread filled with melted cheese and prawns on a blue platter, with small plates and white wine
Seen from above: a halved aubergine topped with tomato and melted cheese on a blue plate, with white wine and bread
Seen from above: a roasted red pepper with a green sauce on a white plate, with olives, bread and red wine
A bowl of beetroot soup with soured cream and rye bread on a terracotta table
The Menu Is a Map

Why there is borsch on an Armenian menu

Ukrainian borsch, Georgian khachapuri and khinkali, Russian pelmeni. Armenians spent the twentieth century across all of those places, and when they moved on, they took the recipes with them. Borsch is here for the same reason Armenians are in Manchester.

So the menu isn't confused. It's what an Armenian table looks like: the food of the country, and of everywhere its people ended up.

A waiter carrying plates through a busy dining room, past guests at their tables

Come and eat.