Three kitchens, one roof.

Most takeaways pick a lane. We never could. The charcoal grill came first — souvlaki and gyros the way they're made at home, marinated overnight and cooked over open flame to order.

Then came the fryer, because a Friday in Manchester deserves proper fish and chips. And then the stone oven, because our regulars kept asking. Three disciplines, one kitchen, and a stubborn refusal to do any of them badly.

Everything is cooked when you order it. Nothing sits under a heat lamp waiting for a driver. That's slower on a busy night, and we're fine with that.

“If we wouldn't feed it to our own family, it doesn't leave the kitchen.”