Purnell’s, Birmingham

Blame it all on Purnell. My food obsession. This blog.  It all stems from him. Some thirteen years back I was a slender twenty-year-old with a food knowledge that amounted to knowing what should be ordered at Nando’s (I now know the real answer; nothing).  Good food was yet to find a way into my life, along with humility and fitted jeans.  It took a girl and a Jay Rayner write-up for me to book a table at Jessica’s in Edgbaston that would alter my view forever.  Behind the stove was a young Glynn Purnell, a talented chef with what I now understand to be considerable experience in some very serious kitchens.  A main of chicken with gamborini prawn would instantly convert me and slowly lead me on a path that had accumulated in four extra inches on my waistband, forty or so Michelin starred restaurants and, more recently, this restaurant blog.

Mr Purnell soon left Jessica’s to open his eponymous restaurant, a place I visited before it won it’s star, though had not been to in some time.  The room is agreeable and modern, carpeted with comfortable chairs and heavy black wooden tables.  It feels effortlessly cool, which is reinforced by unstuffy service and a soundtrack which included The XX.  Dinner options are a shorter menu at £68 or a longer one at £88 with flexibility over certain courses.  We choose the shorter one with the supplement of an additional dish.

The opening gambit was sensational; a witty play (indeed, if ever there were one word to describe Purnell’s cooking it would be witty) of cheese and pineapple on sticks.  A fondue covers a fine dice of pineapple with sticks of dried pasta and a crumbly parmesan tuile for texture.  On to this a pineapple granita is shovelled tableside, the temperature differential seemingly intensifying the familiar flavours.

A duck egg shell hides a yolk in amongst a cauliflower veloute with teeny bits of bacon and black pudding for texture.  Its pretty, refined and elegant, though its hard to get excited about when compared to its alternative, a slow cooked yolk sat proudly on a milk foam flavoured by smoked haddock and drizzled with curry oil.  It looks like a fried egg but close your eyes and its kedgeree.  A croquette of haddock on the side is there to add fish to the fishless fish course.

Chicken liver parfait is shrouded by a red wine jelly, the deep flavour of the offal checked by its acidity.  Its a brilliant bit of cooking that tastes every bit as good as it looks.  Red currants and turnip braised in port for natural sweetness, toasted grains for substance and bite.  The very best chefs know when to add or detract from a dish, here every element was required.  A doughnut filled with beetroot so heavily reduced it could have been mistaken for raspberry sat on the side.  I asked for more to come with my coffee at the end.  They incorrectly assumed I was joking.

Monkfish masala was one of two dishes that made it to the banquet at Great British Menu’s 2008-2009.  The fish is good but could have handled more spice in my opinion, and is overshadowed by the best yellow dhal I have ever tried, all length and character and spice.  Lamb neck is braised so slowly a spoon could have easily replaced the meat knife, the lacquer it sits in used to coat the meat to a mirrored sheen.  With it comes pumpkin thrice; a silky puree, a caramelised rectangle topped with candied pumpkin and fennel seeds, and a carpaccio marinated in orange.  It sings.  The combination of slow cooked ovine, anise, and citrus could have been North African, yet here it is modern French in style, perfectly delivered.

The first of desserts is almost unrecognisable from its GBM victory.  Burnt custard sits in an egg shell high above a plate containing toasted seeds, a blackberry ice cream and thin shards of honeycomb.  The blowtorched topping cracks to give way to a vanilla rich custard that hides a little gooseberry puree at the bottom.  As lovely as they are, these ‘signatures’ sat down my pecking order of my favourites when compared to some of the newer dishes, which were cleaner in their approach and bigger in flavour.  This comparison highlighted by a lemon meringue pie, golden in colour, with a high meringue dome that released a blackberry sauce when chopped into.  The theatrics would mean nothing if the taste wasn’t there and boy it was, all short pastry and balanced acidity from the lemon curd and blackberry sauce.  This is a future classic.

We finish up with tart jellies, a chocolate orange bar with popping candy and chocolate domes filled with peanut butter, ending the meal on a suitably sweet note.  The bill, with two good bottles of wine between three, working out well in excess of a hundred pound each, which is value for money given the quality of food served over the two and a bit hours we enjoyed.  Purnell’s are one of five starred restaurants in Birmingham and much has been made of which one will make the jump to their second.   For me, three of them are contenders, though judging on this performance Purnell’s may have just stolen the lead.  A superb meal of fun and flawless execution.

9/10

Kababish, Moseley, Via Deliveroo

I need no reason to eat curry. I would, if my doctor would allow me, feast on the stuff every night.  Cut me open and I bleed ghee, ask me what my aftershave I’m wearing and the answer will be eau de garam masala.  For me, the food of the Indian subcontinent is simply the best.  A go to cuisine whenever my body needs a lift; whether that be I am ill or hungover or emotionally down or overexposed to back-to-back episodes of TOWIE.  It is a special kind of food that lends itself as equally well to dinner for two as it does to a post-pub feed or the simply takeaway.

Where I am from (Moseley, if you are planning on stalking me), the long standing king of the curry is Kababish.  With a reign of over 30 years, they have seen the suburb go from its arts of crafts roots into the national hotspot which it is now.  My future mother-in-law recalls queuing for Kababish when she were a student, and she is officially ancient.

I have eaten here many times, though tonight I am kicking back and letting those boys at Deliveroo sort my dinner whilst I watch another British team fail miserably in the Champions League.  I order, crack a beer open and meet the driver at the door before the bottle is finished.  Its piping hot, which is a marked improvement on the first time I had a delivery from here some time back.

I’m a simple soul when it comes to the menu here, every time ordering the lamb kebab followed by the Dhesi Karai Murgh with a peshwari naan on the side.  The kebab is shaped into roundels and is deftly spiced with cumin and green chilli.  It has tenderness to the mince meat that could only be achieved by a lengthy marinade and a gentle touch in the tandoor.

The Dhesi Karai Murgh is the star turn.  A Balti for the brave, fragrant with spice and with a healthy kick in the finish.  The cubes of poultry collapse into loose strands when pressured and have to fight for attention, which they just about manage.  The peshwari naans sweetness is a natural foil to the heat and mops up the last of the thick juices.  I have converted many to this curry over the years.  Give it a go and you wont be the last.

I meant to post this last week to coincide with National Curry Week, though I am useless.  It matters not; curry may as well be our national dish, its ingrained in our culture and should be eaten often and with pride.  And those who do indulge could do far worse than doing so at Kababish.

Deliveroo supplied the credit for this meal.  Use the link roo.it/simonc3898 for £10 credit

 

Cheval Blanc, Moseley

Cheval Blanc is now three months old and has already become something of a cult classic in Moseley, bringing back the wine bar without the yuppy association of the 80’s and with a new dynamic; more vibrant and current in its approach.  There is no pretence here, instead the team focus on delivering high quality wine and cocktails, with food that complements the drink, not the other way round.  Its a lovely place to whittle away the hours and I often do.  I write this on a Wednesday morning, my head still tinged from both Saturday and Sunday afternoons sat at the bar drinking too well for my doctors liking.  It is safe to say that I am a fan.

But I am here now to mostly talk about the food, not my alcoholic tendencies.  I was invited for the launch of the Autumn menu a week back and its clear that the food has moved up a notch in the short time they have been operating.  Dishes are more complex, flavour profiles more pronounced.  The head chef here is Cyd, a man so Gaelic I expect he cycles to work on a bike with a baguette in a basket up front, and more than ever this feels like his menu.  Each dish we try has a confidence of a man who understands his native cuisine but isn’t afraid to take it elsewhere when required.  The crisp balls of arancini which start are accurately seasoned so that the rice inside punches heavily with earthy mushroom flavour.  A salad of crab is freshened by lime and grapefruit segments which could have lost the seafood flavour in lesser hands.  Here it is balanced and well matched to a Australian Reisling that zings and dazzles.

A glass of Cab Franc from Australia’s Jamsheed is almost too quaffable, all light and refined with a back note of oak that works wonders with slices of venison carpaccio daintily dressed with blackberries and hazelnuts.  A quail dish feels more substantial; pan-fried breast and confit leg with glass-like crisp skin.  Fresh quince and poached grapes are seasonal and sensible choices for the needed acidity, whilst a celeriac rosti takes it in to more complete eating.  In a menu of small dishes designed to be eaten in numbers, this feels like a small dish that could fill a hole by itself.  Try it with the Rhone they suggest, high in tannin and savoury enough to pin down the fruit in the dish.

We hold fire on the last course and pause for a cocktail featuring chocolate infused bourbon, an idea that should be stolen and made compulsory for Christmas Day breakfast.  The dessert is a mousse of chocolate and green chartreuse, a herby liquor that was new to me and vastly enjoyed, probably because of the 55% alcohol content.  Its a classy way to finish, possibly a little to kitsch for my liking, but then most things are.

Yes, I do live 150 metres away from here, and yes, this evening was free.  In an age when disclosure is paramount and every free meal that a ‘blogger’ (and how I hate that label) receives is scrutinised, it is questionable how much one can believe this write-up over, say, the one which is going to cost me two-hundred-and-fifty-quid this coming weekend.  And for every complimentary meal I receive I always ask myself if I would come back or not and pay out of my own wallet.  The answer to that with Cheval Blanc is I do come back, twice since this event last week and probably again this weekend.  I spent my bloody birthday here, for Christ’s sake.  I come back because I simply cant think of a nicer place to enjoy quality wine and casually pick away at well made plates of food.  The team of Abi and Rory know their stuff and they have created somewhere special that never fails to deliver.  I am fortunate to live in Moseley and have so many great places to drink and eat on my doorstep, but none of those places get me excited quite like Cheval Blanc.

 I was invited to the above autumn menu tasting.

 

 

Waterside Brasserie, Stratford-Upon-Avon

I seem to have spent a lot of my summer in and around the Stratford-Upon-Avon area. When the sun is shining I can’t think of a more enjoyable way to spend a day than rowing its river, or nestled up on its banks supping on a cold glass of wine.  When the sun is locked behind stormy clouds, such as on our last trip, we wind down our days by submerging in its rich history, visiting the home of some bloke called Shakespeare, who wasn’t in on our last trip but seems to be very popular judging by the queues.  I have a lot to thank Shakespeare for, because it wasn’t for the hordes of tourists who come to pay tribute to the mans words in this wonderful part of the world, those lovely folk at the Shakespeare’s England would not have kindly arranged for this particular trip.

Our base on this occasion was The Arden, a fine boutique hotel directly opposite the Royal Shakespeare Theatre.  From the window of our spacious room we had a full view of the theatre, with the river Avon peeking out from both sides.  Its a glorious place to be, opulent, and seemingly aimed at a more affluent traveller and theatre goer.  The restaurant here is the Waterside Brasserie, a large dining room with hues of purples and brown which looked positively bustling pre Shakespearian show and far more lonely when we sat down at the exact time the room departed for some theatre.

Copyright 2010 Matthew D. Shaw. See licence supplied with this image for full terms & conditions. Copy also available at: http://www.matthewshaw.co.uk/copyright.html

From the off the talent in the kitchen is clear.  Accurately seared scallops, milky white and medium rare in the centre, with ricotta and bacon wrapped in most delicate of ravioli.  Moisture comes from a vivid green puree at the base which creates enough interest to not require a sauce.  My girlfriend declares it her second favourite dish of the year, high praise from a lady who probably could find fault in the life of Mother Teresa.

And then there was butter poached chicken breast, supple and dotted with tarragon, paired with charred bits of sweetcorn and leek that added a subtle sweetness to the dish.  At one side stood a croquette of the darker bits of the bird that offer a depth of flavour more attuned to working muscles.  As with the scallops, it was a concise plate of food with not an ingredient wasted.

A lamb main course was generous in size, with thick cuts of rump and two rolled spirals of crispy breast. The rump was cooked correctly to medium and would have benefitted from another two minutes resting, whilst the breast was a lovely thing, all unctuous and sweet meat that offered little resistance to the knife.  The accompaniments of dauphinois potato and a smokey aubergine puree helped along by a light lamb jus and garlic notes that underpinned the entire dish like a French dressmaker.  It’s a proper bit of cooking, sizable in portion and price at just over £20.00.  A tranche of cod cooked separately in a bamboo steamer was a minute overcooked, yet still ate well when added to the bowl of the mixture of glass noodles and various stir fried veg dressed loosely in a sauce heavy on soy.  There was a nice lime acidity which cut through the deep umami notes of the dish.

We struggled to find room for dessert, plumping for a butter milk panacotta that looked to be the lightest option on the menu.  The panacotta was well made; just set and quivering, with fresh blackberries, a coulis of the fruit, dainty rippled meringues, and more of those blackberries, this time poached in a balsamic.  As the pan pipe version of ‘My Heart Will Go On’ threatens to spoil what has thus far been a lovely evening, we find that balsamic blackberries are far too sharp on their own and an absolute delight when taken with crunchy bits of egg white and a soothing set cream.

We never saw a bill on this occasion though we totalled up our food and wine to be around £80.00, both agreeing that the meal is good value for the quality served.  Afterwards we sat at the curved bar which anchors the room and enjoyed a cocktail, soon to be joined by the throngs of theatre goers with similar ideas.  In an area with such concentrated tourism it would be easy to make a quick buck serving low quality food at high prices, and others do, as we found out the following day.  Instead The Waterside Brassie is intent on producing clever cooking, executed to a level well above the norm of other brasserie’s.  It is the best food that I have eaten in Stratford and in a cracking location to boot.

8/10

My meal at the Waterside Brasserie and stay at The Arden was complimentary , organised through Shakespeares England, the official tourism guide for Warwickshire.  For more information please see www.shakespeares–england.co.uk