Carters of Moseley
IT SURE BEATS WORKING
There are many advantages to working for yourself and whilst there are some disadvantages, it’s usually just long hours or the occasional insecurity when work goes a bit slack. But I’d far sooner have that over a nine-to-five or being a cog in the corporate machine. There’s also no one in the way to take up offers for an afternoon hacking around a golf course; an early finish when the sun’s shining; or an invitation for lunch.
And so it is that I get a call from my mate H, also self-employed, with a suggestion that we meet for lunch on my next available Friday. I’d have been happy with the pub, but he’s proposing Carters. Looking online their lunch menu promises to be 'simple, affordable and fun.’ I’m intrigued; these are not the three words I’d most associate with Michelin star fine dining.
Even at 12.30 it’s already three quarters full. There’s a buzz in the air gathering its energy from an eclectic bunch of customers and an impressively efficient and charming team of staff. There’s also a great soundtrack of mostly disco, funk and soul, setting us all up nicely for the weekend.
There are only two decisions to make, the four- or six-course tasting menu and then, the wine flight or not? The first decision is taken from me as H makes it perfectly clear four isn’t an option. Good man. He’s not a big wine drinker, preferring to stay on beers, so I opt for the wine flight as it feels more civilised, even if I may end up drinking a bottle’s worth anyway.
A lightly sparkling, crisp rosé kicks things off and prompts the arrival of the snacks. First up is chicken liver cereal; a deliciously rich pâté, topped with a small pile of sweet, crunchy granola. I’d happily eat this every day for breakfast but for my fear of gout.
Chicken liver cereal
Next up is a scallop roe in a salt and vinegar light batter that immediately transports me to the being at the chippy at the end of a boozy night out. This is grinning food.
Salt & vinegar battered scallop’s roe
And then a Cornish oyster arrives in its sarcophagus-like shell, cooked in beef fat, it’s the perfect balance between surf and turf, but its joy is fleeting—gone in just two chews and a slurp.
Cornish oyster
Cornish oyster cooked in beef fat
I’ve misjudged the number of snacks and amount of wine, so it’s long gone when there lands some raw kohlrabi, rendered vibrant green with a pine oil transfusion, dressed with pine vinegar and topped with wild sorrel leaves. I’m unsure what to make of this, but it leaves me safe in the knowledge it’s not just me who struggles to make a dish with kohlrabi work.
Kohlrabi with wild sorrel leaves
Then, deep crusted ‘chef’s country bread’ arrives with four delicate slices of melt-in-your mouth house-cured ryland mutton and a dipping bowl of rapeseed oil and 2016 house aged vinegar infused with blackberry preserves. It is simple perfection.
Chef’s country bread and house cured ryland mutton
In the meantime, the next glass of wine has arrived along with swede tartare topped with pickled shimeji mushrooms and chestnut shavings, coated in a velvety, delicate cream sauce. I’m already struggling to find much enjoyment in it and then H jokes it reminds him of badly mashed swede from school, putting that firmly front of mind. But I push on and it eventually offers some reward. Even so, I definitely feel I’ve earned pudding… or better still, more wine, which duly arrives in the shape of a savoury Verdicchio.
Swede tartare
The next course is easily the most photogenic plate so far; a green flecked riot of orangey-pinkness with roe, scattered like pearls off a broken necklace and a piece of trout cooked sous vide. It’s coated in a miso sauce with fresh dill and chervil providing a taste spotlight for the trout’s starring role, but like salmon, it’s just not my kind of fish. Luckily, there’s fun to be had chasing the roe around with my tongue to capture the pleasure of the ethereal bursts of lightly salted anchovy-like flavour popping into your mouth when you catch one of them just right, between your teeth.
Clear Stream trout with miso sauce and roe
The next wine is a medium bodied Pinot Noir and is the fanfare for what’s definitely the dish of the day—Highland deer. It arrives shrouded, by the frilly flamboyance of a single leaf of purple kale. Knocking it off to one side reveals two perfectly pink pieces of venison fillet, topped with little nuggets of bone marrow and a scattering of elderberries. A mushroom mousse gives as pure a hit of umami as you’re ever going to get.
Highland deer - arrival
Highland deer - reveal
The next hit of booze is a ten year old white port that will have me sourcing the supplier and to hell with my fear of gout. It’s all nectar with lots of fig and just a hint of a hint of marmalade.
Bring on the gout!
Transitioning into dessert we get Maida Vale; a semi soft cheese with rind washed in West Coast IPA—there’s a pun there if you look hard enough. It sits on a slice of malted loaf with reduced, syrupy and malty beer wort. We discuss trying this at home. It will be a complete conman’s version with a wedge of ripe camembert on a slice of Soreen and a drizzle of maple syrup, but it’s got to be worth a try.
Maida Vale
Then it’s Grand Fir—cracking through a sheet of camouflage that’s 45% Madagascan white chocolate, there’s the slightest hint of pine forest aromas in soft ice cream, then a glistening emerald pool of oil delivers an intense pine hit bringing to mind a creamy mouthwash. It’s at least cleaned the palate.
Grand Fir… bust open
Next up on the wine flight is an ice cider, made from 18 different varieties of apple intensified by repeated freezing and thawing. Even with ABBA in the mix, this is easily the best thing to ever come out of Sweden.
Mamma Mia!
It’s the perfect pairing for the final course that brings to mind being a kid with a toffee apple. On the base, there are layers of comice pear cooked in a lightly spiced syrup; on top sits salted caramel mousse and thin brandy snap style wafer, topped with shavings of walnuts. On the plate are sweet, dark spots of an intensely sweet sherry reduction.
Pear and salted caramel
Just ahead of the bill landing, two mini doughnuts arrive with melted dark Jamaican chocolate and hot coffee ganache to help propel us into the afternoon.
Jamaican chocolate and coffee ganache filled doughnuts
As for Carters’ promises, it’s certainly been a fun fine dining experience with playfulness in abundance; not just with presentation, but also textures and taste that have transported me across both time and place. At times it has been simple, but I think imaginative is nearer the mark, and whilst not hitting the bull’s eye on every course, it’s been bold and, at times, simply audacious. Finally, with H picking up the bill, it’s most definitely been affordable.
With the rest of Friday afternoon written off, we head for the pub, but first it’s the supermarket to pick up some Soreen.
RECOMMENDED
2C Wake Green Road, Moseley, Birmingham B13 9EZ
