515. A Week In Weston.

 

  The dog and I resolved to enjoy ourselves at Birmingham’s traditional seaside resort of Weston super Mare as I and my previous Labrador had done before for about thirteen years. Birmingham has no sea and Weston does and Labradors should have as much time swimming in the sea as they possibly can in their all-too-short lifetimes. Weston is also the nearest seaside resort by train to Birmingham as one can find. Hence to Weston. 

  It is a shadow of what it was in the 1950s and 60s as regards the number of visitors and the resort was very quiet during the week that we visited. Some days were wet, some windy, some cold - “fresh”, you might say - and I suppose that is why most British prefer to endure the process of flying to some hot, sunny resort in southern Europe or Turkey or further afield if they can afford it. They don’t know what they are missing. The beach at Weston is fabulous even if it’s usually too cold to sit on it for very long and the sea races in and out waiting for no man, like time, as the saying goes. It is perfect for an old bloke with a hyperactive puppy and the town is quiet and unthreatening and relaxing though most of the important shops there have closed and a lot of the people there look quite poor.

  It certainly is a town for ‘working people’ as the politicians like to call the working class in these present times. It is nowhere near posh enough for a Michelin inspector to trouble themself to visit and not middle class hipsterish enough for the Good Food Guide to take any interest in it. True, a few years ago Michelin did include the excellent Cove restaurant in the hallowed pages of its Guide but the Cove has long closed and Weston remains sans mention in either of these two publications. 

  The Cove is much missed by myself - the setting was one of overlooking the bay and was lovely especially at sunset and the unnamed chef(s) was/were masters of fish and shellfish preparation and cookery. I lunched or dined (sometimes both) there every day when I was in Weston and when the restaurant was open and its closure remains a sad event in my life. It closed, I think, about 2016 and eventually after a considerable period of dithering, the RNLI took it over as its local headquarters, ‘visitors centre’ and gift shop. The Cove did not do well on the ghastly Tripadvisor on which malign commentators wrote a number of harmful reviews which meant that The Cove was pushed well down the local rankings. Most of the negativity was centred on the admittedly at times inexplicably slow service though that may well have been because the restaurant attempted to train young people in front of house service and waiters therefore sometimes appeared cheerful and keen to help but rather slow and mildly clueless. 

  I experienced so many hours of happy dining at The Cove, indulging in some remarkably well prepared dishes - I remember a wonderful starter of delicious cauliflower panna cotta, fresh crab, various fish dishes including an ambitious and successful en papillote; The Cove served fine and well loved moules marinière. Ah! Such pleasures. Lost. But remembered. And all in Weston super Mare; who’d have thought it?

  But that was then and this is now. Of equal importance to Weston’s dining out history is the immortal Papa’s fish and chip restaurant which I have described previously. These are not triple cooked chips nor is the fish in little lumps a couple of cubic centimetres in size but generously portioned, lightly and crisply battered fine white cod meat and chips, not crispy on the outside but well cooked and tasty. The restaurant is atmospheric and its decor celebrates its history. Papa’s was my first port of call and great pleasure was derived from my cod and chips. A plate of fish and chips at Papa’s is a necessity on every visit to Weston.

  It was mid-autumn, night fell early, the weather was bipolar - raining one minute, brightly sunny the next. For the next three evenings I dined at The Old Thatched Cottage, right on the seafront, a few yards from the beach and nextdoor to my hotel. I had not eaten there for some years - I had not been impressed on my only visit there - I had fish which was badly overcooked and the waitress had seemed cold and unwelcoming. But it was time to give it another try. And  was delighted. The welcome was pleasing, the restaurant both spacious and cosy and comfortable and the menu had an emphasis on a mixture of the traditional English and traditional Greek, on the chargrilled and on the marine.

  I had a lovely prawn cocktail as my starter - a generous portion of sweet, plump crustaceans in a particularly pleasing Marie Rose sauce with a fresh crisp salad. Then for my main, a magnificently tender and tastilly grilled pork chop, lovingly French trimmed, with some exceptionally fine triple-cooked chips and a couple of sweet onion rings. This dish was a palpable hit. I rounded off with a soothing affogato and as contentedly as one might feel, I walked back to my hotel next door, taking in the mid-autumn seaside evening.

  The next evening, as starter I chose a very underwhelming dish of ‘chorizo bites’ and then for my main a truly delicious and perfectly cooked chargrilled chicken, bountiful in size, served with what I assume was a well cooked cous cous (I rarely choose to eat it so its optimal texture is not something I can comment on but this filled me with little pleasure reminding me, as it did, of small balls of tapioca though the salad and dressing - hits of refreshing mint and lemon) were lovely. For dessert, I was stuck in affogato mode - it’s such an enjoyable combination of pudding course and after dinner coffee and nice and light after a mesmerisingly generous piece of chicken.

  For my third dinner at The Old Thatched Cottage, I happily sank a toothsome pina colada to start while getting on with a very pleasing chicken liver pâté which lacked the bitterness that some examples of this dish often bring with them and on it sat an equally pleasing red onion chutney which was just right for cutting through the richness of the paté. For my main, some really excellent beer battered haddock - light crispy batter and nice, well-cooked meaty fish. The chips were excellent and the peas were fine and underlined the traditionality of it all. To be fair this was a dish I probably enjoyed more than my Papa’s fish and chips but  I would never miss the opportunity to visit Papa’s. Afterwards - well, affogato again I’m afraid.

  For my Cottage dinner, the next evening, I returned to the Greek theme. As a starter I had a generous plate of undistinguished olives with a pleasing, not overly garlicky hummus and refreshing tzatziki and some rather nice flatbread.Then for my main I chose what turned out to be a beautifully grilled chicken  thigh souvlaki - very pleasingly moist and tasty and this was served with a generously portioned fresh Greek salad, more tzatziki and flatbread.  This was a thoroughly enjoyable main course.

Rating:- 🌛🌛🌛🌛.

   The final dinner of my seaside visit was eaten at an old favourite of mind - a friendly, warm, cosy, welcoming sort of place about which I have written before - the splendid Ginger Pig Kitchen. I found that it remained as enjoyable as ever - not much has changed since my last visit (including most of the menu) but the meal gave me great pleasure. To start I chose a newcomer to the menu - a delightful, sweet French onion soup with gorgeously sweet onions, the broth hot enough to make it a dish to sip slowly and a decent cheesy crouton blanketing it all. It was accompanied by a slab of the Ginger Pig’s focaccia which is made on site and is very good.

  Then there could be nothing better on a nasty autumn evening, with a biting wind sweeping in from the Bristol Channel and the rain cascading from the black skies, than a Ginger Pig homemade pork and cider pie on a bed of very satisfactory mash, crispy rocket, a pig in a blanket, smashed peas and for me, a rather overgenerous lake of good gravy. Stuck in the top, as usual, was a crispy twig of pork crackling which had a satisfactorily not excessive crispiness. Then there could pie itself was a very good size, the pastry just right and the meat inside plentiful and tender.

For dessert, inevitably, affogato; this extravagantly enhanced with pieces of honeycomb to add to and sweeten the mix.

Rating:- 🌛🌛🌛

My week in Weston was over and I was well fed.

27-31 October 2025.

514. Tropea.

 

  Tropea gets everything right. The service is remarkably good, helpful, friendly, just the right amount of time spent in pleasantries and the delivery of information about the food being served and useful suggestions if the diner asks for them and a just sense of knowing what service is.

  The seating is comfortable and the tables are big enough to make sure everything on them is not in a permanent state of having to be shuffled around every minute or so. The decor is bright and pleasant, the large front window opening on to the world outside gives natural light to the restaurant even if it is a mildly depressing street in Harborne chokingly busy with traffic, which never seems to me to be as attractive as those who live there seem to believe - it’s not Hampton in Arden or Henley in Arden or Knowle, let’s put it that way.

  But regardless of the somewhat dreary inner city suburb in which Tropea is located, it’s all about the food and that is at the apogee of great, delicious dining in the city - comfortingly rustic, generally portioned, gorgeously, unashamedly enjoyable.

  I started as I feel I must always do, with my aperitivo in the form of a soul relaxing paper plane and then nibbled on the sweetly acidic, nicely crunchy housemade seasonal pickles while I waited for my other antipasti which took the form of delightful sliced courgettes in light, fawn-coloured tempura batter sweetened moreishly with drizzles of Moor Pool honey and finished with pecorino giving the battered courgettes a furry look  - a nice autumn successor to the courgette flower fritti served in summer.

  And then an absolute gem as the pasta course - lovely paccheri with a delicious sausage ragu and the profound domination of fennel all crested by 30 month old Parmigiana Reggiano, the entire ensemble rendering a dish of deep flavour and pleasing texture. A hit!A palpable hit!

   For my main, I chose what turned out to be perfectly barbecued half chicken - its meat as tender and tasty as one could hope for and its size not that of some mean little pullet. This was a bountiful chicken dressed with gremolata and served along with a fascinating salad of celery, parsley, leaves, crunchy radishes and the sweet hit of little halved black grapes - quite delightful.

  I haven’t really considered myself to be a tiramisu man but I opted to have the dish on the grounds that it was about time I did. Of the mistakes I have made in my life, not up to now choosing to eat Tropea’s tiramisu ranks as one of the greatest. On the deliciousness scale this dessert as served in Tropea completely scores 10 and then exceeds the scale by several points. The sponge is so light, the cream so soothing, the whole so toothsome. Best of all, it was a large portion, probably meant to be shared by two but I reflected that the pleasure of dining alone is that one doesn’t have to share such wonderful creations. No, sharing is good but letting someone else even just sample your Tropea tiramisu is a sheer folly which should consign the person guilty of such an act to an instant fifty years in purgatory. I coupled my tiramisu with a bold and perfectly matching White Russian, a choice of which the barman seemed to approve.

Tropea seems to have reached a point where its food is perfectly judged in quality and degree of enjoyment and if it is more unpretentiously rustic than fine, its deliciousness is spectacular. I think it will be my Birmingham restaurant of the year.

See also Blog 489.

Rating:- 🌞🌞 

24 October 2025.

513. The Comfort And Sheer Pleasure Of A Fine Gastropub.

 

  I have great sympathy with the loonie Head Chef, Julian Slowik (played by the supremely creepy Ralph Fiennes) in the masterpiece of cinema, The Menu (2022) when he says to his soon-to-be-slaughtered diners, “But I have to beg of you one thing. It’s just one. Do not eat. Taste. Savour. Relish. Consider every morsel that you place inside your mouth. Be mindful. But do not eat. Our menu is too precious for that.”.

  I find myself not deriving much pleasure in eating. Julian is quite right - the pleasure of dining out emerges from the the tasting, the savouring and the relishing. And also there’s enormous pleasure in just looking at a finely presented dish. But eating - the process which also includes the loading up of the stomach and the alimentary tract downstream of the gastric bag - can be unpleasant especially if the volume of that bag is stretched to its limits by excessive food being loaded into it or, perhaps, the stimulation of the acid of the stomach in aggressive quantities. Eating therefore may also lead to bloating and acidity and there’s not much pleasure in that.

  Thinking about it all, one thing that today’s chefs seem to pay too little attention to is aroma. They stimulate the eyes and the taste buds (and as an unfortunate side effect, the stomach’s acid-secreting cells) but it’s unusual to be in a restaurant and be pleasantly assailed by an enticing smell of gorgeously roasted meat or tantalisingly caramelised onions or freshly baked bread. Perhaps aromas belong only in a south Asian restaurant with its emphasis on aromatic spices - and they are more rare there than they should be - or an old fashioned and rustic setting such as an old pub. Yes, stimulation of the olfactory sense in an alluring way is a much neglected feature of how chefs present their food. 

    Whether or not my first cranial nerve is being stimulated, and it’s nice when it is, I do like to be comfortably seated when I dine. The present obsession with fast food whereby one buys a good quality food item made with love but then is forced to eat it (though of course we should not ‘eat’ as Julian points out and as Margot points out to him when he uses the term) sitting on some uncomfortable wooden and aluminium chair or bench or perched nervously on a backless stool at a dizzying height enough to initiate an acute episode of high anxiety (how many film titles can I fit in this piece?} is all very regrettable and greatly reduces, for me at least, the pleasure of consuming that food (perhaps Julian would like diners ‘to consume’ rather than eat - I may use the verb more often).

  Well there’s none of all that when one dines or lunches at The Wildmoor Oak Inn in Wildmoor near Bromsgrove. It’s such a comfortable, warm place to eat, er, consume. I have written about my previous visits there and I recently returned for more instant pleasure. A pleasing welcome, a comfortable chair (though the tables (necessarily I suppose) are a little too close together) and the gastropub’s autumn menu. What else could an old bloke want?

  I chose a fabulous starter from the ‘specials’ menu, three truly jumbo, superbly devilled red Argentinian prawns, splendidly tender and drenched with flavour, the degree of devilling was as perfect as one might wish - yes, and the aroma of prawn, first cranial nerve satisfied - with little brown shrimps - mini textural masterpieces - served on toast. This was a robustly enjoyable dish and I did indeed taste, savour, relish and consider every morsel that went into my mouth - Julian Slowik. would have been pleased though at the end of all that I did actually eat it all and gained great pleasure from doing so, so perhaps Julian might not have been so happy after all. But I was happy and that was all that mattered.

specials menu

  From the main autumn menu I chose Blythburgh pork chop with bubble and squeak and braised red cabbage as my main course. The pork was pleasingly tender and generously portioned though it may have benefitted from a little more seasoning. The bubble and squeak was not successful in that the outer coating was charred - I assumed this had been Chef’s intention - and not all that pleasant but the interior pieces of potato and cabbage, unmolested by the charring, relived grand old working class English food in a dish. The accompanying sauce was pleasant but I longed for some apple which is such a perfect marriage partner for pork. The red cabbage was excellent with just the right texture and not oversweet. 

  I was rather disappointed by the dessert which again was one of the specials. I was lured into choosing it by the mention of the Worcestershire apples used in it (it would have been nice to see them making an appearance with my pork chop) but it was a sort of poor man’s tarte tatin - delicious nicely cooked pommes, heightened by caramelisation, sitting on a few sheets of filo. This seemed like a lazy way to present fine local produce - the filo was nice and crispy but in the presence of the apples, lightweight and lacking in ambition. These apples deserved to be served in fine pastry as the principle element of a great apple pie.

  Nevertheless, putting my apple moans to one side, I derived great pleasure from my lunch in the cosy comfort of the Wildmoor Oak Inn and already feel the need to return there to again enjoy myself.

Rating:- 🌞

18 October 2025.

  Jumbo prawns also gave me considerable pleasure as a starter when I had lunch at The Oyster Club by Adam Stokes a few days earlier. Again I was comfortably seated and warmly welcomed and feeling thoroughly happy even before my prawns with accompanying aioli had been delivered to my downstairs table. The prawns were very nicely textured and tasty and, yes, had discernible prawn aroma to them, so again cranial nerve one was satisfied.

  For my main I chose, as I often do, Dover sole with a little shoal of perfectly textured brown prawns and samphire scattered over it like magical marine fairy dust. This dish is one of Birmingham’s most noble main courses and the consuming of it represents a few minutes well spent. 

  The dessert was rather disappointing, sadly. This is the case with desserts all over the country. Pastry chefs are so vital and so thin on the ground. My message to restaurateurs woukd be to invest in one and make a big thing about it. An accomplished one will raise your restaurant to new heights. This dessert was edible enough - a tasty, icy strawberry parfait with undoubtedly unseasonal strawberries between wafers. Well, who goes to a fish restaurant for the dessert?

Rating:- 🌞

9 October 2025.

  Why, you may ask yourself, did Julian Slowik feature so heavily in this edition? Simply because Channel 4 is presently streaming the movie and I saw it again for the first time since I viewed it when it had its first cinema release. Like a fine meal as with this ultimate gourmand’s film, you remember the pleasure of it but not necessarily all the details and it was delightful to relive all those forgotten memories again.

  My other favourite foodie film is of course Ratatouille, probably the greatest dining out movie of all. In it once more there is a sinister figure, this time not a chef but a diner, Anton Ego the restaurant critic, After years of dining on the sophisticated cuisine of fine dining Paris he eventually finds gastronomic peace in the comforting food of his childhood, a plate of perfectly cooked ratatouille. Isn’t that the way we’d all like to exit the stage? Though in my case substituting the ratatouille with a perfectly cooked plate of battered cod and chips. Yes please. Thank you very much.

Anton Ego, gastronomic paradise in a plate of ratatouille

512. GULP Collaboration With 1485 Wines.

 

 Back to the Jewellery Quarter and an evening at Kay Winwood‘s Gulp where she was serving an Italian 6 course meal in collaboration with the wine merchant 1485;which was showcasing Terre di Serrapetrona wines.

  The meal started with a sharing plate of various antipasti which was delicious and then moved on to what I think was quite the best salad I have had this year (and I have had quite a lot of salads inflicted upon me in 2025). It was made up of pecorino, the sweet citrus of orange which really lifted the dish walnut plus some bitter leaves which worked wonderfully well with the orange’s sweetness, fig and the happy crunch of candied. This was a delicious and delightfully memorable dish.

  Some excellent bread was served and a very tasty 15 hour-cooked beef ragu with not quite al dente tagliatelle and more pecorino adding to the pleasure of it all.

   Next porchetta which was a little dry for me with, tenderstem broccoli (this particular green is ubiquitous) and truffle polenta and sweet, sharp cherries to really give the dish a pleasurable lift.

  The dessert was lovely - warmed plums with nicely chewy almond ricciarelli (a biscuit originating in 14th century Sienna), lemon ricotta and pomegranate seeds. It was a fine, perfectly balanced dessert both in textures and degree of sweetness. I loved the little spoon provided to eat it with - it was a good example of the charming and original quirkiness of dining out at one of Gulp’s occasional dinners. 

  This was a highly enjoyable evening in Gulp’s unique setting which ignites a companionable chattiness among the dozen diners, usually strangers to each other prior to the meal, sitting around the prettily laid table. The wine pairings were excellent and a good time was had by all.

Kay Winwood 

Peter Bridgwater of 1485 Wines

Rating:- 🌞

27 September 2025.