A brilliant mind came up with the idea of Dishoom, off Chamberlain Square. A genius brought it into physical form. It’s much larger on the inside than the outside, it is Bombay in Birmingham, it could be a high grade canteen, it’s vibrant, atmospheric, every direction you look there are front of house staff bustling around - taking orders, delivering orders, backwards and forwards stirring up the atmosphere. There’s the sound of chatter but the place is so big that the noise never becomes overwhelming, it’s almost necessary. Diners to the left of me, diners to the right of me, diners straight ahead of me. Thrilling. Fun.
The menu is large and very tempting. So too is the cocktail list (very tempting at any rate). I had the Old Fashioned variant featured on the menu. A remarkably delicious Old Fashioned.
Now I was in the mood. My indecision hovered over the menu and took a long time to resolve but eventually it settled on a dish of excellent little pappads (khichia,I think) with a very tasty apple chutney (“made to an old family recipe. Made from dependable apple, not fickle mango” [I’ve never really considered previously how seriously an apple might take its responsibilities nor the degree of infidelity a mango can indulge itself in], anyway this was probably chundo). One thing I do know is that I am rather in love with khichia and chundo, no matter how severe the degree of faithlessness one or both of the parties may show.
I was told there were no starters or main courses - the dishes one ordered came to the table when they were ready. Though this sounded a little uncompromising but very clever (no complaints possible if a table’s dishes did not all arrive at the same time) all my dishes arrived in conventional order so a sense of order was maintained). My starter - let’s call it that - was made up of three enjoyable minced lamb samosas (“Gujarati filo (not Punjabi shortcrust [says the menu emphatically] stuffed with minced lamb, onion and spices) with three little bowls of some tasty sauces.
And so to the main course. I had chosen Mutton pepper fry (“finest mutton marinated in red chilli, ginger and garlic, and then cooked with black peppercorns and whole spices”) served in an impressive black pot. The description adds, “Robust, spicy and tender” which is wholly accurate. Except that tender does not convey just how remarkably tender the mutton was, gorgeously unctious, hot but within the bounds of an old Brummie’s tolerability after almost fifty years of experiencing what Birmingham’s south Asian restaurants have been serving up and as robust as any peasant dish could be for it was undeniably rustic in an Indian sort of way. What a joyous dish and very generously portioned. I ate it with roomali roti (“soft handkerchief-thin, bread, thrown, stretched and griddled to order on an upturned tawa” - whoever wrote this stuff is very, very good), which was a perfect companion with the curry.
On being seated originally along with the menu I had been handed a card informing me that we were celebrating the Zoroastrian new year or at least it was according to the Parsi community in India which follows the Shahenshahi calendar (16 August to be exact). And there was a special dessert to accompany this event - Fashooda - “sweet, extravagant and fun” which was presented as “a glass full of malai kulfi, rose syrup and sweet basil seeds, topped with vanilla ice cream, almonds and pistachio. This dessert drink is said to originate from ancient Persia, and was introduced to Bombay by Irani cafés such as Kyani & Co and Badshah”. So obviously I chose the falooda as my dessert. Not quite my cup of tea but it did not fail to deliver what the menu promised - my problem was that there was a little too much liquid but the menu had described it as a dessert-drink so I can not say I was not warned. Agreeably, the flavour of rose was present but restrained and the various nuts gave the dessert some crunchy texture. And it was a pretty little dish with its pinks and its greens mottling the whiteness of it all. So, Navroz Mubarak!
The extremely talented writer opens the menu with, “From Bombay with love.The old Irani cafés have almost disappeared. Their faded elegance welcomed all: courting couples, sweaty taxi-wallas, students artists and lawyers. These cafés broke down barriers by bringing people together over food and drink. Bombay was more open and welcoming for their existence. Dishoom pays homage to the Irani cafés and the food of all Bombay”. This is a great Irani café here in Birmingham. This is a great dining experience here in Birmingham. Bustling, exciting, thrilling, great food. Right at the top of places to go out to eat in the city.
No comments:
Post a Comment