570. Upstairs By Tom Shepherd.

 

See also Blogs 188, 194, 205.

  Obtaining a reservation for a single diner at Upstairs by Tom Shepherd in the centre of Lichfield is a task so difficult that Hercules might have decided to give up on this particular labour were he ordered to carry it out. However, earlier this year I did indeed manage to make a reservation at this one Michelin star establishment - infact, much to my surprise I managed to grab two, one for November in addition to today’s booking, so I was finally able to return to this highly thought of restaurant after a very long time away.

  I arrived a little early in Lichfield so I went off to pay my compliments to the late Dr Samuel Johnson, he of dictionary fame and who was something of an epicurean of his time, and visited his statue (and that of his mate Boswell, both situated near Johnson’s former residence on the market square) before making my way the short distance to Upstairs. I noted before entering that Tom Shepherd’s father’s jewellers shop - the downstairs to the restaurant’s upstairs - was now closed which made the little door to the stairs to the restaurant seem even more discreet than previously. I climbed up the stairs to find the restaurant’s decor to be altogether more jazzy than previously but very fresh and light and appealing. The staff, dressed in white collarless shirts and waistcoats looked casually smartly central European like Austrians and it did not take long to work out that the front of house staff are among the most capable and professional I have  come across for a long time - absolutely first rate and delivering impeccable and faultless service.

   The food started off in the way in which it intended to go - unimpeachable deliciousness and excellence or certainly as close to that description as one might wish it to be. A trio of dainty amuses gueles arrived together and were explained in detail though not to the point of exhaustion. The waiter admitted that his favourite, and I was inclined to agree when I had worked my way through them, was a lovely, nicely textured pecorino sable biscuit with toothsome Tunworth cheese mousse under a generously sized roof of winter truffle shavings and this was too good to down in one bite, rather it needed to be nibbled in murine fashion to lengthen the time that I was savouring the little gem for as long as possible. But the other amuses bouches were also rather good - a beef fat micromuffin topped with nicely textured beef tartare and a wafer-thin slice of gherkin to balance the richness and a crispy croustade containing pleasing chalk stream trout and a splendid citric hit of Amalfi lemon.

   The signature red cabbage gazpacho, returned to the menu by popular acclaim having been ‘rested’, more than justified its place among West Midlands restaurants’ special dishes though as the weather was changing to have a cooler autumnal feel to it, I did wonder about serving gazpacho now the leaves are turning yellow and brown.

  Then a bread course to ease one in from the tempting tidbits to the courses proper and this took the form of a determinedly West Midlands pikelet, jazzed up by being a sourdough pikelet, served with delightful cultured butter (my lipidologist will be cringing if reading this, we having had a long discussion about my serum triglycerides which resulted in me making a promise to cut back on butter - a promise I made with my fingers only half-crossed behind my back. But butter of all things, what sort of dreary existence would it be without the pleasure of butter?, I ask you - I didn’t ask my lipidologist that question - I didn’t think he’d understand the agonising torture of une vie sans beurre, after all man can not live by bread alone. As regards the pikelet - which was very good especially with the generous amount of tasty butter heaped on it - I felt, and he did not seem to mind - that I might mention to my excellent waiter that if we were emphasising the West Midlands heritage of it, then perhaps he should introduce as a poyklit which would be quite the right pronunction to enable the achievement of west midlands authenticity.

   An so on to what I suppose should be called the fish course - sliced Orkney scallop beautifully cooked and alive - not in the literal sense, you understand - with scallopy flavour and bathed in a champagne sauce with the richness cut through with the citric hit of calamansi.

  Next, mildly flavoured Anjou quail, accurately cooked in supreme style, served in the presence of vadouvan, a French curry spice, and the sweet and sour of kumquat. This was possibly my least favourite dish - quail, even when this nicely cooked has a flavour too subtle for me though I know for others it is the best of flavours. And it’s so small, poor little thing. It never seems reasonable to kill such a small bird for so little gain. Here too the vadouvan did not really enhance the bird and, though appreciating the beauty and preciseness of the cooking, I could have missed this course and felt no regret. Served separately with it was a much tastier small quail sausage roll and that was a hit, being bold in flavour.

  For the main I had a choice of two dishes - aged Aberdeen Angus beef with girolles or that which I opted for, Wild Shetland halibut served with a nice little pile of Cornish crab, green and yellow courgettes and nasturtium leaves. This was a fine piece of fish, it’s outer flesh cooked beautifully golden though I thought in achieving such beauty,  it was probably ten to twenty seconds over. The nasturtium leaves were, as they usually are, lost on me - I just don’t get the alleged pepperiness of them but I enjoyed the accompanying chimichurri which was full of the warming and reassuring flavour of cumin, my favourite, along with fenugreek, spice. More bread accompanied the fish, a small but lovely Japanese-style milk loaf though to be fair I did not really need it and thought that a good solid root vegetable might have happily taken its place to make more sense of the dish.

   Next, another supremely successful signature dish which I was told, had never been off the menu - Thai green curry ice cream with coconut and mango. This was a very witty and successful intermediate dish, the flavours working beautifully together and the ice cream evoking Thai green curry very effectively. Intermediate dishes are often a failure but this was delightful.

    For dessert proper, apple eclair. This again was very enjoyable though I wasn’t completely convinced by the choux but the dish worked very well, the pink lady apple sorbet was delightful and the lemon verbena leaves worked here where the nasturtium leaves did not work for me in the main course.

  Despite my few mentioned reservations this was still an extremely enjoyable meal and I look forward to a rematch in November.

14 October 2026

Rating:- 🌞🌞.