I watched Peter Kay in 'arse end of nowhere' Manchester Co-op Live with £7.50 pasties and long parking queues

Peter Kay is not one to pull a punch and after his show was cancelled twice at the much maligned Co-op Live arena, he was never going to ignore the elephant in the room after it finally went ahead. Or in this case, the £7.50 pasty.

After an opening segment focused on the disastrous opening of this cavernous new venue, including a huge sign deliberately misspelled 'Peter Gay' and the tongue-in-cheek Co-op Funeralcare balloons on stage, the slimmed-down comedian dedicated a segment to pulling it apart from 'don't go the loo the door will fall off' to 'watch the ceiling, if you hear a squeak just run’.

He then went on to savage the location  in 'arse end of nowhere' and its transport links. But it was when he munched a pasty onstage in the second half he went apoplectic on learning the price was £7.50, sending a staff member off to check it in the shop. 'We're in bloody Gorton,' he bellowed with disbelief, 'There's a McDonalds opposite.'

The problem was it was close to the bone as this enormous new black cube of a £365m venue is still navigating its teething problems. Although the legions of staff were helpful and operations in some areas were slick and shiny, I experienced a broken escalator and broken hand-driers, plus the £25 parking was chaotically managed - it took an hour to get out of the car park.

I paid more than £150 for two floor tickets (not VIP) and the folding seats were very narrow; it was not the most comfortable experience and I couldn't see Peter through the big head in front  - instead watching on a screen - though I accept this is par for the course in an arena. And the shop really was ludicrously expensive and limited - it wasn't just the pasties. A gin and tonic in a can was £9.50. I'll leave that there.

After a late start as the audience, including me, struggled to find inadequately labelled seats, Peter was welcomed to the stage like a returning rock star. The relief was palpable for those who had rearranged plans repeatedly to be here; expectations were high and Peter knew it.

His set was focused on what he does best, riffing off the audience and notably his amazing sign language interpreter Tony (who I recognised from the Lytham festival). Tony definitely deserves a co-star billing though I don't want to give it all away.

Peter knows his audience and relied on old tried and tested material his fanbase would expect with nostalgic  jokes and references including the singalong of familiar advert jingles, emotional tongue-in-cheek tales of his late and much loved nan. As always he played fondly on his working class roots from Bolton, from his part-time job in a video store to his penchant for recording things on VHS.

For the most part the show is just Peter on stage doing what he does best; it's near the end when he entirely switches gears to showcase his true star power and some of the functionalities of this glittering new venue. He asked us not to spill the details so I won't but think of a Pink concert crossed with Up the movie and add in a 50-year-old comedian who can command giant audiences so dedicated they will rearrange their lives to go see him multiple times and pay a fortune.

But it wasn't the venue or the drama that made the night for me - it was Peter Kay back on stage telling his irreverent stories and representing extraordinary northerners everywhere. And garlic bread.