The restaurant is situated on a mezzanine so, if gambling really isn’t your thing, you are completely removed from the rest of the building. It’s like being in a nightclub with no concept of time. But as we’re shown to our seats, the casino buzz melts away. The concept of a restaurant above a casino is a bit strange, and not usually my kind of venue. This time around, it takes me a while to adjust to the bright lights and patterned carpet.

The building has changed a lot since then, including the addition of a bowling alley and an immersive theatre company which revamps Shakespeare as club nights. The last time I was at Manchester 235, situated in the Great Northern Warehouse on Deansgate, it was called Linen, it was Valentine’s Day, there was a magician, and I won £40 on roulette. So when I realised that my favourite telly chef had opened a restaurant in Manchester, I was salivating at the thought of sampling his culinary delights. It’s just not the same without his dulcet Northern tones. Since Martin left the popular show, I’ve not seen a single episode. I’ve spent many a hungover weekend morning watching Saturday Kitchen and scoffing scrambled eggs made with a tonne of butter.

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