Restaurant Review
Seaforth Restaurant at The Municipal
Municipal Building, Dale Street, L2 2DH
By Robin Brown | British brasserie | ££ |
The last time I was in Dale Street’s Grade-II listed Municipal Building it was to argue with a lady about housing benefits. Strolling into the former home of Liverpool City Council 25 years later for a three-course meal at the restaurant of Liverpool’s only five-star hotel certainly gives one the sense that progress has been made – both personally and for this grand old landmark. Even then, I was struck by the magnificence – the munificence, I suppose; a gift to Liverpool and its people – of the place.
In its new guise, the building has been looksmaxxed to the hilt. Now titled The Municipal Hotel & Spa Liverpool – MGallery Collection, this European Renaissance fortress has undergone a transformation that would startle any Victorian clerk – though there is still a doorman with a top hat. Explore further and you might be rewarded with a derelict cast-iron lift spiralling through the central stairwell. If you’re here for pre-theatre, there’s plenty of drama in the building alone.
If you’ve come for sustenance rather than nostalgia, however, your path leads to the Seaforth, located in the grand central atrium. Within there are nods to the building’s past: an old boot and protractors on display, uncovered during renovation and curated alongside the tools of a trade now replaced by Excel spreadsheets and existential dread.
The setting is a show-stopper alright – and that’s before the food has even arrived. A vaguely colonial elegance – think Bombay, circa 1930, the palm trees help – now highlights the wood, marble and plasterwork. Tens of millions have been spent on making this superb building soar, rather than drowning it out with modern trappings. Ignoring the AI-written menu prose that simpers over the ‘cobbles’ of Penny Lane, the actual selection is more grounded. The menu is classy and restrained; no dirty burgers or pizzas here.
The wine list is impressive (we had a mineral-y and very drinkable house white – a pinot grigio for £36); the service is friendly, knowledgeable and attentive without the ’yes, can you leave us alone now, please?’ of over-enthusiastic service. All that can go wrong now is the food.
I’ll level with you: that was a feint. The food is very good. I had a very pleasing starter of scallops with king prawns, alongside miniature spears of al dente romanesco and a rich pea puree (£22). Confidently cooked and assembled, though I might have added lemon oil for some sharpness. A tasty bowl of roasted tomato and sweet pepper soup arrives (£10) – but while a soup fan, I think there’s a glass ceiling (there’s a literal one here, after all). I could happily have eaten everything on the starter menu.
The seasonal and local boxes are thoroughly ticked here, and a main of lamb loin fits right on that axis. Accompanying the loin (£39) is a scouse croquette, shredded spring greens, carrot puree and marrowbone lamb jus. There’s enough reduction here to drown a medium-sized account manager and, as someone who takes a dim view of gravy meanness, I’m very happy about that. Beautifully tender lamb, a deeply satisfying croquette, and a nice balance of freshness and sweetness add up to a strong plate of food. It’s new, replacing a traditional scouse, which to me always looks out of place on a good menu – like a Ford Fusion parked outside a country club.
By contrast, my wife has a perplexing bowl of bucatini with garlic and chilli (£19) that was disappointing, lacking in sufficient emulsion for the hollow pasta to really sing. Oh well, you can’t have everything. Except maybe you can. We did, in terms of the desserts anyway, and duly the chocolate delice, a brilliantly Blumenthal-ish apple cheesecake masquerading as a Granny Smith, and a sublime pineapple tatin with coconut ice-cream appear – and promptly disappear. No ‘one dessert, two spoons’ nonsense here.
Stepping into the night, the impact lingers. Musing idly on the irony of a building once dedicated to the grim redistribution of wealth now serving as a £60m temple to its concentration, I found I didn’t mind one bit. It feels like a huge vote of confidence for the long-neglected Dale Street. This building is back with a bang; the restaurant a magnet, drawing people back to this neglected edifice. Finally, some municipal pride.
