Merrymaid Bar & Grill
CROSSING THE TRACKS
I can’t remember the last time there’s been a ‘curry house’ that I’ve been evangelical about. Over the years, even before there was an official ‘Balti Triangle’ there was Shabab and then Sheereen Kadah in Balsall Heath – both of which got dumped after getting zero ratings for hygiene and much like an ex-lover you should never go back.
There was also Punjab Paradise on the Ladypool Road. In its heyday, if you weren’t there by 7pm you’d be in a queue that extended outside… any day of the week, even Mondays. Its clientele came in from far and wide, all perfectly happy to ‘cross the tracks’ with their shiny BMWs and Mercedes. And so began a spate of car break ins and thefts, which first led to the restaurant employing security guards to monitor the adjacent streets; and then eventually prompted them to sell up and announce a move from Balsall Heath to Knowle,
Their rationale was that it would save their wealthier clientele the trouble of making the journey. But little did they realise it wasn’t just the impeccable service and quality of the food that brought them in; it was exactly that they had to cross to the ‘wrong side of the tracks’ for it. It was all part of the experience, even with the risk of car crime on the side.
Fast forward at least two decades and it’s Jane’s birthday. Jane is a foodie and amongst the places she’s evangelical about is the Merrymaid Bar & Grill. But cutting the fancy talk, it’s a pub that does curries.
The table is booked for 8pm, so after a few cocktails in Moseley, eight of us head up there in two cars. It’s officially Highgate, but that’s a little disorientating for me as it’s on the extension of the Alcester Road after Balsall Heath, down past Joseph Chamberlain college. This means we’re crossing the tracks.
Could this be the one?
We walk in through the pub entrance and it’s a well lit, proper old school boozer. There’s a smattering of punters - a couple of blokes playing pool and four more at a table with what looks like nothing short of a curry banquet laid out in front of them. We head through the door marked ‘toilets’, through to the back room, which is pretty much empty apart from a couple of diners and another game of pool going on at the far end. It’s a big dining room with an old parquet floor, plain white walls and fairly harsh lighting, but there’s ample consolation with a bar at the other end and Cobra at £3.80 a pint.
Dining room (from the pool table end)
With pints in hand it’s time to turn our attention to food. The menus sit as A4 folded pamphlets on the table, with graphic design and prices from the 1980s. Four of our group have eaten here before, so the rest of us are happy to be guided by those in the know. I’ve previously heard about their fish pakora from other sources, so I’m more that happy that it’s decided we go for two portions – having been told that one portion is enough for four - and we also order four poppadums and a portion of chicken wings.
The waiter brings three side salads of roughly chopped onion, iceberg lettuce and quarters of a pale tomato along with supersize squeezy bottles of hot red sauce and the yoghurty minty one. And before long the piles of fish pakora arrive, and it’s easy to see why they’ve achieved legendary status, being subtly spiced and beautifully succulent under the crunch of batter. The chicken wings are also a delight– plump and juicy with a hint of spicy heat.
My taste buds are fully awakened for the mains – just as well as we have ordered a lot. On the curry side alone we’ve gone for 2 x fish curries, a lamb bhuna, 2 x lamb madras, 2 x saag paneers, a mutter paneer and a dal tarka. Accompanying those we have a mushroom rice, pilau rice, chips, 3 x garlic naans, 2 x peshawari naans, an onion chilli naan and a mixed raita.
We’ve gone for a shared food experience … there’s no individual ownership of dishes at play so I’m planning to try most of it. Our regulars are extolling the virtues of the fish curry and whilst it’s that same succulent fish in a fairly light and not too spicy sauce - my preference is for the lamb madras with the meat cooked long enough to almost melt in your mouth. It has all the pleasure of an Indian summer, but much like late September sun it could’ve done with being hotter. The mutter paneer too deserves a special mention - cheesy peas to the uninitiated - it had a freshness that combined well with the creaminess of the paneer.
I went rice-free given the range of naans we’ve gone for. Whilst they are a little on the overdone side and the peshawari is a bit dry and lacks the sweetness you get at other places, it’s just a quibble in the grander scheme of things.
At the end of the meal, which went on so long it demanded a second pint, there was enough left over for four takeaway containers full. The service both behind the bar and at the tables was friendly and efficient. And rather marvellously, the total bill for all the food, including starters is a mere £80 – just a tenner each!
Given it’s a school night we soon wrap up and head off into the night. It’s not until we wander out the side door that I realise I’d lost thought of where we are and remember we’ve ‘crossed the tracks’. Car one is right outside, but as we came out the side entrance, car two is ‘out of sight’ so we speed through the goodbyes. But, soon enough we spot it and find it perfectly intact.
So, is the Merrymaid the one? The simple answer is no, although mostly around my expectations of the dining environment and especially the toilets for that matter, which are very befitting of an old school boozer. But, I’ll definitely be back.
WORTH A TRY
