Helen Ramsbottom girded up her loins, rattled her purse for money and made off into the bright, freezing December day. Her mission was to find something liquid yet filling with which to warm her chilled bones on a stuttering heater day at Confidential.

Schlurp! was the destination. She came back with two chicken curry soups (£3.95 each) and two smoked haddock chowders (£3.95 each). As a generous soul she was also buying for Schofield, Gordo and Tristan Techhead (the computer addict with fingertips evolved over millions of hours to perfectly fit those minute indentations on keyboard keys).

Helen and Schofield, both having had a full education, ate from proper bowls. Gordo and Tristan, both having empty heads, went for the take out polystyrene.

Gordo and Schofield shortly afterwards declared their chowders full of smoked haddock heaven, rich, creamy, yet right up to scratch with big lumps of fishified crunchy veg. The spuds were perfectly saturated with the distinctive sauce, and almost sighed ‘job done’ as they broke under the teeth.

Helen and Techhead went for the chicken curry numbers. Again, there was satisfaction with the big blast of coconut and cumin and a real chicken tang, plus lots of ballsy al dente veg where nothing seemed cooked to buggery. “Could be criticised for being a bit too Moroccan perhaps,” said Gordo having nabbed a spoonful. “Bloody tasty though.”

It was Schofield who noticed it first, after giving his grub a hard stare: “It is lovely,” he said, “but there seems to have been a Sellafield incident in my bowl. All the fish have disappeared. They’ve suffered a mass extinction.”

Mr Technical quickly got out one of his many gadgets, this one for measuring chicken chunks in soup. “I’m detecting what could be residual amounts of chicken in the soup but the fowlometer shows a negative reading for chunks.”

Shocked silence. We love Schlurp! Schofield even loves it despite its wayward exclamation mark (he thinks only illiterate people use exclamation marks in anything other than reported speech. That’s because he’s a right snob).

Back to the point. The unasked question was, had Schlurp! got schloppy?

“Has Schlurp! got schloppy?” asked Techhead suddenly.

“I thought nobody would ask,” said Schofield.

Twenty minutes later and Alan from Schlurp! had Sleuth in a headlock and was about to pour boiling broth on his lovely full head of hair. Sleuth’s hat had fallen in a casserole.

“I put three full fillets of smoked haddock, naturally dyed too, in that chowder every day!” he shouted. “It just distintegrates slowly through the cooking process. That’s why it tastes so sodding fishy. As for that curry, it gets two and a half kilos of the best diced chicken in the thing every morning. That also distintegrates in the cooking process. Did you never do science at school?”

A released Sleuth asked for evidence. Alan pulled a big haddock from a locker and slapped it on the counter.

Sleuth asked for a pen to write all this down - he wasn't sure if he’d brought a pen with him or whether it was now adding inkiness to the neeps and carrot soup after the clinch in the kitchen.

Alan offered a pen, peace broke out, the sun shone forth and some fauns played outside on Brazennose Street.

Sleuth was happy (although maybe there'd be a bit more chicken with a bit of cauldron stir before dispensing). Generally though, Sleuth considered that Schlurp!’s honour had been saved for the Mancunian nation.

So this is the truth. Schlurp is still the same feisty independent, still as honest to its principles as it was when it began several years ago. It still provides damn good soups, casseroles, sandwiches and the best porridge (the secret’s in a soupçon of vanilla extract) in west central Manchester.

“Just one last thing,” said Sleuth, putting Schlurp’s pen in his pocket. “The editor wants to know if you can get rid of that silly, excitable exclamation mark in the name.”

“No,” said Alan. “By the way, if you want big hunks of meat, the turkey in the roast turkey and vegetable soup doesn’t go anywhere.”

The evidence

Venues are rated against the best examples of their kind: fine dining against the best fine dining, cafes against the best cafes. Following on from this the scores represent: 1-5 saw your leg off and eat it, 6-9 get a DVD, 10-11 if you must, 12-13 if you’re passing,14-15 worth a trip,16-17 very good, 17-18 exceptional, 19 pure quality, 20 perfect. More than 20: Gordo gets carried away