Opus
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCKING ON HEAVEN’S DOOR
My Birmingham ‘fine dining’ journey began in the mid-1990s with the more notable haunts all now well and truly deceased; Left Bank, Broad Street; Le Petit Blanc, Oozles Square; La Toque D’Or, Jewellery Quarter and Bank, Brindleyplace (these days, as good as deceased). Then, in 2005, Opus opened offering contemporary fine dining versions of mostly British classics with a nod to Europe here and there. For at least the next seven years, we went reasonably regularly and always in January, when the entire wine list was half price; even if it only encouraged us to drink double the normal amount of wine.
But, after decades of second city inertia, Birmingham’s rebirth brought with it a myriad of restaurant openings and Opus disappeared from our view; perhaps lost in glare of Michelin stars. Whilst, they’ve never had such aspirations, they do have two AA rosettes and a 2020 Michelin Plate—so, it’s got to worth another go. Besides, it’s an elegant space and always had a quiet energy that comes with a confident kitchen and satisfied customers, as we usually were.
Opus interior
It’s the end of dry January—yes, I know I’m cheating—but with their 50% off lunch and selected wines deal ending today, there’s also the opportunity to connect back with booze… erm, I meant my wife. But, despite it being Friday lunchtime in the heart of the ‘Professional Quarter’, it’s not got nearly the sort of buzz I was expecting. It’s just about half full and there’s a notably older clientele, which gives it the air of an OAP’s lunch club; it’s not often these days we bring the average customer age down. I’ve no particular issue with that, but it’s also Brexit Day and there’s brash patriotism lapping at our ankles from the Union Jack socks, blazers and pub landlord decorum at our nearest table. In a city of international cuisine it’s throwing a harsh, cold light on the menu that’s still mostly British classics; it’s definitely a throwback to the noughties.
The elevated smoked haddock and leek fishcake
Katrina’s starter is the smoked haddock and leek fishcake; it’s a safe dish, playing it very safe. She jokes “it’s elevated gastro pub standard, with all the elevation coming from the tower.” I’ve gone for the pan roasted quail and it arrives looking like a muddy winter walk. The two quail supremes are crispy skinned, but the meat is on the dry side and any intended caramelisation of the blackened sprouts has turned to bitterness; it’s also heavily salted, magnifying the intensity of its dominant Bovril-like flavour. It is, at least, countered by the sharp and sweet cranberry sauce and there’s some good texture coming from the chestnut crumb but any flavour there doesn’t stand a chance. The braised quail Scotch egg is a delight, but not the highlight I was hoping for.
A muddy winter walk AKA pan roasted quail
As for the mains, Katrina’s ox cheek has joyously slow-cooked meaty succulence in abundance under its crust with flavours you’d expect from a Sunday roast; honey roasted parsnips and puree, carrots, kale and a robust red wine jus. The one disappointment is the dauphinoise and unfortunately, there’s nothing more disappointing in the universe than a disappointing dauphinoise; it’s a bland slice of layered potato cake, completely lacking any Gallic attitude.
Slow cooked and glazed ox cheek
My slab of roasted halibut comes with Jerusalem artichokes done four ways providing contrasting textures; mandoline-thin boiled; crispy fried slices; roasted; and a puree all adding a deep, sweet nuttiness, that’s a dream date for the lightly charred and sharp tang of globe artichokes. The chive butter ably binds the flavours, although the delicate sweetness of the halibut is completely overwhelmed by all the gutsy flavours on the plate.
Roast halibut with textures of artichoke
On the basis of the first two courses, we’re undecided whether to bother with pud, until I realise it will have been at least a month since my last dessert wine, so that’s that decided. Katrina goes for the Valrhona dark chocolate tiramisù, but with the risks that come when ‘innovation’ is applied to classics, it scares the living daylights out of me. I decide on the malted vanilla panna cotta, just leaving me with the more important decision on the wine. I opt for the Eclat Botrytis Semillon, which has such an intense bouquet of honeyed peach that I’d happily sniff until it’s all gone. It’s more citrusy-honeyed when I finally take a sip and it works well with both desserts. I know this because I get to eat half of Katrina’s too.
For a kitchen that’s not demonstrated too much finesse plating up, you can’t say the same about the desserts. The tiramisù looks splendid, if not remotely tiramisù-like. On a luxurious spread of caramel fudge sits a gold leaf-topped Valrhona dark chocolate ball, delicately encasing a deliciously, lightly whipped mascarpone on a lightly coffee soaked biscuity-sponge base. A scoop of caramel ice cream, crisp wafer and chocolate dust adds more than just eye candy. It’s wet, it’s cold, it’s crispy, it’s whipped, it’s soft, it’s sweet and it’s bitter-dark chocolately… and whilst it most definitely isn’t a Tiramisù, I love it.
Valrhona dark chocolate tiramisù
Mine has me salivating too; the panna cotta is densely vanilla seeded, drizzled with fresh passionfruit seeds and on a biscuity crumb sits a scoop of mango ice cream. I just don’t get the need for cake with this dish, but it’s a minor quibble, although it’s a shame that both desserts (and dessert wine) are the undoubted highlights of the meal.
Malted panna cotta with totally unnecessary passionfruit cake
The total bill with sparkling water, two espressos and tip, minus the 70-odd quid of discounts, comes to £107.06, which is probably about what it’s been worth. Even the bottle of Soave Classico—a decent enough crisp, aromatic white—is probably at its correct price point of £24 (with the 50% off).
The food has been very hit and miss. They’ll not have got their current accolades for nothing, but based on today’s visit, it’s joined my ‘as good as deceased’ list; there are many better fine-dining experiences to be had in Birmingham.
54 Cornwall Street, Birmingham B3 2DE
