Opheem
TWINKLE, TWINKLE MICHELIN STAR
A few years ago a very good mate, Julian, who still lives in Birmingham, started a job in London. So, a fairly regular Thursday night out disappeared from my schedule. These days, we still manage a night out every couple of months and it’s usually with food involved and sometimes with the wives or families.
There’s also what’s now become a traditional festive catch up. It normally lands in those magical few days after work finishes and before all the family priorities kick in. It starts with lunch and ends up with a filthy, brutal hangover; the sort that has me googling trepanning techniques and totally distraught about having to still wrap presents. But this year, he’s off to India for work and will then enjoy a week diving in the Maldives, arriving back just in time for the big day. It’s a hard life.
In order to keep some element of the tradition going it’ll have to be before he flies off—and following a run that’s included Nosh and Quaff, Opus, Barrafina (London) and Adam’s—it’ll be Friday lunch at Aktar Islam’s ‘signature restaurant’ Opheem; recently awarded Birmingham’s newest Michelin star. Having first gained prominence in the city at Lasan, just off St. Paul’s Square, he achieved national fame in 2009 when he won Channel 4’s ‘F-Word’. At Opheem, the food has Indian cuisine at its heart, but he applies ‘cooking techniques from all over the world, some traditional, and some very modern’.
We meet at 1.30, in the bar with its opulently forever pink-blossomed cherry tree. He’s there before me—quite possibly the first time ever—sitting with a glass of water; this is another first. We’re offered a glass of Veuve Cliquot, but not being at all fussed with champagne, I order a Leffe Blonde and Julian says he’ll stick with water. WTF?
It turns out he’s got work that needs finishing today, but assures me he will have wine with lunch. He’s cheating on tradition, but it’s always great to catch up and have our mutual therapy session, so I let it lie.
We’re shown through to our table and the only decision is the lunchtime à la carte or a tasting menu; either five or eight courses. The five course is two-fifths dessert, so it’s a fairly swift decision to do the eight. We also decide on a Chilean Old Vine Carignan. It’s a bold 14.5%, rounded but intense with floral aromas and tasting of dark fruits, so it should stand up to the spices.
A plate appears with what looks like two sugar cubes, onto which the waiter pours warm water and they expand into hand towels. This isn’t the only magic that lands on our table today and I think I should apologise now for the length of what’s to follow.
Almost immediately there lands a trio of amuse bouche; a miniature Chinese-style pancake, enveloping succulent shredded beef; a dense pastry tart filled with a light, subtly cheesed mousse; and a muscled cube of compressed cucumber, topped with petals and a crust of spices that lightly kick its freshness across your whole palate. Next up is lamb three ways; a crispy lamb topped dense brioche made with lamb fat, served with a generous pot of their signature spiced lamb pâté. This is all comfort and lamb heaven (or lamb hell, if you’re vegetarian).
The first of our eight courses is Gajar Lucknow. There’s sweet-heat of charred tandoori skin-on chunks of carrot, a gel-like puree of carrot, grated carrot salsa and a nuggetty lentil pakora that provides crunch. At this stage in the meal, it’s the sort of dish that could easily persuade me to request a move to the vegetarian tasting menu.
But, no sooner have I considered vegetarianism as a lifestyle option, one of my favourite dishes of the year lands under the name of Halim Hyderabad. It looks and functions like a bowl of porridge and its mutton boldness runs so deep, you’d think it’d been mined; with sweetness provided by caramelised onions it’s wonderfully gentle and indulgent. Sitting on top is a meatball that provides a crack hit of shish kebab. This dish is as sleazy as it is pure.
Next up it’s Nandu Kerala; two thick sections of king crab leg, but the star element is the combination of the initially sweet cauliflower custard with pork broth that combines to create a deep gravy pool of umami and then there’s the joy of crispy rice for texture. We’re now at the end of the first wave, announced by the arrival of coconut sorbet to cleanse the palate. It’s sweet with a lovely citrusy lift from grated lime.
The first of the mains is Allepy Kerala; this is a complex dish with cod perfectly poached then fried to crisp the skin, working in complete tandem with the fairly wet, slightly bitter and sharp pakora that’s tempered by the richness of coconut milk and lifted by the sweetness of mango. This is serious competition for the crown of ‘dish of the day’.
We’re surely due a dish that doesn’t quite deliver; next up it’s Shalgam Gosht Delhi ‘inspired by Aktar's dish on the F Word’ but this isn’t it. The salt aged beef rib is wonderfully pink and tender with a seared crust. There’s subtle spicy-radish like heat off the Tokyo turnips, mellow fermented garlic and the most perfectly cooked rice imaginable. But the absolute star of this dish is the smoked bone marrow and black cardamon sauce; the intensity and layers of flavour are up there with the finest wines known to humanity. As a whole, this dish is conjured from somewhere between a Sunday roast and a curry.
By now, we’ve finished the wine. Julian’s demonstrating levels of professionalism I’ve never witnessed before, so it’ll just be a glass for me. This comes in the shape of a Primitivo Appasimento, that’s intense dark fruit and spice. By now I’ve completely lost track of how many courses we’ve had and what’s up next, so my one minor quibble is that shortly after my wine arrives, the first of the desserts lands. Surely, the waiter could have suggested something more appropriate?
As it happens, it’s not a catastrophic pairing, as it’s Ajmuda Jammu; celeriac ice cream, spiced gingerbread and muscat grape. This is a dish as savoury as it is sweet and with more balance than an Olympic gymnast; from the textures of the light crunch of gingerbread to the silky smoothness of savoury ice cream and the sweet, firm bite of grape. Julian’s a bit disappointed about the lack of zingy ginger and it’s a fair point, given where we are.
The final piece of magic from the kitchen emerges as Opalys Kerala—for me it’s a delightfully creamy, sweet vanilla white choc ice and macadamia. I love sweet desserts but, Julian’s not so impressed and thinks they could be braver, suggesting some heat and spice alongside freshness to finish things off. Maybe I’m just mellowed by the extra wine.
It’s fairly empty by the time we ask for the bill, having been about three quarters full on arrival. It’s an elegant dining room and has mostly been a mix of customers in twos or fours, with the hum of conversation ably supported by a gently loping electronica soundtrack. The dining experience has been fabulous with efficient, charming and knowledgeable waiting staff and the food has been nothing short of magical. With three large sparkling waters, it all comes in at £126 each, with service charge added.
We go off to see the studio Julian’s setting up on Colmore Row, ready for a new production team he’ll be heading up in the New Year, so Thursday nights might even make a come back. I head home and the family are very surprised to see me, there’ll be no hangover in the morning and no presents to wrap.
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