Opheem, Birmingham
It's my Birthday and I'm in Birmingham but I've only gone and been a big bloody idiot and had my Birthday on a Tuesday this year so I'm hindered somewhat by a lack of options in that some of the places I've been told to go to are either shut or a little too far away for a pre-gig munch. We settle for what is a pretty good pizza at Otto Pizza. It's a on the specials board and has a load of Aubergine and cured meat. It's good but it's a visit that's cut short as I have to dap it back to my hotel room and soothe my howling dog child who is quite clearly unhappy at being left in a lovely warm hotel room with a massive bed, a chesterfield sofa and all the toys she could ever need, what a dickhead. For our full day in Birmingham we spend a good couple of hours wandering around the Chinese Quarter where we devour some great sausage buns from Uncle Cake and take a chance on a tray of dumplings from sign-less shop on Bromsgrove Street. It's a chance that almost pays off too right up until my penultimate one and I find myself chomping down on what can only be described as one of King Kong's pubes. Ya win some, ya lose some i guess.
It's all good though, Birmingham's food credentials are the best in the UK and I'll make a proper visit of it next time but the real reason we're here and the reason you're probably reading this post is because we have reservations at Opheem. This one Michelin starred restaurant headed up by Aktar Islam has been at the top of my list for as long as I started to pretend to keep one. I’d say definitely at least since I started writing this blog and probably for a little bit before that too. There’s a couple of reasons for that. The first being the universally glowing reviews from quite literally everybody I know who has been and whose food opinions I trust wholeheartedly. The second coming in the form of the previously mentioned head chef, Aktar Islam who for my money, is one of the most exciting and genuine chefs in the UK today.
We start things off in their lounge where I reckon we probably end up spending a good third of our total time. We make our way through some very good cocktails and eavesdrop on the heavy murmering that fills the air. It's a mixture of rising anticipation from those making their way through a carousel of pre-dinner snacks and a resounding sense of satisfaction from those who have just been brought back through from the restaurant to finish off their evening. There's a chef working at singular station busy preparing those pre-dinner snacks and as you're sipping on a pre-dinner Negroni I dare you not to be taken in completely while they juggle a multitude of tasks, making the complex look effortless. The battery to the senses is completed as you notice smells of bread baking, stocks and sauces simmering, rice toasting and heavy spice. All the good shit.
The snacks come out in five minute intervals, each one arguably more impressive than the last but none of them anything less than great. A mango tuille comes dotted with a smoky burnt lettuce puree and a potent chilli sauce. A curried crab crumpet is made with the lightest of touches and is texturally one of the nicest things I've ever eaten. Finally, before being taken through to the restaurant proper, a knockout combo featuring a beef tartare and duck liver parfait sat on top of a dainty apple macaron followed by a bowl of cured sea bass with a sweet and sour curry sauce and toasted rice. Make no bones about it, this is Opheem showing off, donning their finest peacock outfit and shaking those tail feathers for all to see.
The restaurant by the way is as impressive as it gets. It's a super modern, bright and warm space with a massive open kitchen centrepiece which is naturally an absolute hive of activity. It contains more chefs than you think with more cooking techniques on show than you know in a carefully choreographed performance with Aktar Islam standing front and centre: watching, inpsecting, chatting, laughing and even on occasion delivering the plates himself.
The act of truly great service is an art form in itself and it's worth mentioning that it's particularly brilliant at Opheem. As the conveyor belt duly begins in the way it does in restaurants like this.... Sommelier, then wine, then Chef, then food and repeat. It's all too easy to end up feelings like a second thought but not here, not for a second and it's a credit to the whole operation that that's the case. A corn on the cob is our first course all grilled and buttered up to the kernels in spice. It could be considered a low key start if not for an accompany coronet of corn sorbet reminding you exactly where you are. If not then a bowl of deeply flavoured heritage carrot, mint sauce and lentil pakora practically smacks you upside the head and tells you not to be so fucking stupid. You're at Opheem and they're now demonstrating some serious cooking.
They double down on that point with a bowl of Orkney scallop that comes finely diced alongside mooli and apple in tomato rasam broth. It’s a delicate and understated dish that demands careful and thoughtful eating lest you unintentionally allow the dish to go unappreciated. It's juxtaposed by a big bowl of mashed potatoes that is quite honestly one of the nicest things I've ever eaten, certainly the most comforting. I've intentionally undersold what this dish actually is there so for the avoidance of all doubt you have potato whipped with cream and mixed up with more potato that has been sous vide in all of the butter before being flash grilled over an open flame. You still with me? Good because there are croutons and crispy potato skins to provide all the texture you need and right at the bottom of the bowl is a tomato chutney and aachari spice marinade that demands you dig down deep and one bite every spoonful that comes back up. If that's not enough and you're clever enough to go in on the wine flight, it's spectacularly paired up with a yellow label veuve clicquot champagne. Not bad for a bowl of mashed potatoes eh?
A few more greatest hits come in the form of a bowl of perfectly poached cod with an indian olive broth that has me unashamedly supping from the bowl with all the grace of a man who is a bucket of wine and 4 cocktails down. Then there's some roasted mutton that arrives with a plea to make sure I eat the skin. A note that sends a shudder down the spine at the thought of why this even needed to be said. I mean just look at it, why would you not go straight for it? Psychopaths everywhere. All of this without even mentioning the bread course but I'm running out of words and this post has already taken me two months to write god damnit. So just trust me, it's as great as any of the main courses you'll be served during your visit.
For dessert, a tart blackcurrant sorbet is sweetened nicely by matchsticks of meringue and apple and then a white chocolate crescent provides some theatre befitting of ending the meal when it's cracked open to reveal a river of pitch perfect creme anglais alongside a cardomom ice cream and pistachio to add some complexity and luxury. All complimented by a phenomenal dessert wine which I manage to blag a second glass of. It is my birthday after all. We head back to the lounge for the customary sweets and old fashioned and it's about this time that my memory fades to black. The one thing I do remember though? Opheem is one of my favourite ever meals. This is my first time here but I can tell you with confidence that it won't be my last. It's all too easy to build a restaurant up in your head and come away disappointed through no fault other than your own that your lofty expectations hadn't been met. Opheem didn't just meet my expectations, it surpassed them with ease and waved a middle finger on its way past for good measure.
