The Bournbrook Inn
IT’S GRIM DOWN SOUTH
My Mum lives up north in a town full of bang average pubs, serving poor to bang average food. She’s down here on a family visit and offers to take us out for a pub meal.
To be fair, my Mum would be happy anywhere, and whilst nowhere springs to mind, I’m determined we’ll not just be eating out for the sake of eating out. After a quick scour online of south Birmingham ‘gastropubs’, I’m happy to gamble here, grateful it doesn’t offer a colour-by-numbers pub food menu; the type I’ve seen a gazillion times before.
In truth, it’s a fairly schizophrenic mix of on-trend dishes, appearing to flex some culinary muscle across a multitude of global cuisines. The nine small plates / starters include Nashville smoked chicken wings, gambas al ajillo, mojo pork belly with pineapple salsa, roasted hispi cabbage with miso butter, grilled asparagus with a black garlic ketchup, truffle in the mix with garlic mushrooms, whilst chorizo is paired with black pudding.
The Bournbrook Inn dining room
Arriving for our 7pm table, my expectations are immediately dampened by the cavernous dining room being empty apart from one table. And whilst clean and comfortable, it has all the insipid charm of a Travelodge, complete with fake foliage and breakfast room lighting.
‘Smoked chicken wings with hot buffalo sauce and blue cheese’
Small plates are £7 each, 3 for £18, or 4 for £20, but we stick at three to share for our starter. I’m first in on ‘quail sized’ chicken wings with a supposed buffalo sauce, that registers zero on the sour-heat scale. The promised blue cheese element is non-existent, seemingly replaced with an unnecessary sprinkle of salt flakes.
Cauliflower pakora, ‘coriander and chilli chutney’
With my expectations now soaked to the bone, the cauliflower pakora is more promising on the first bite; as promising as par-boiled cauliflower deep fried in a lightly spiced batter can be. That is, until we reach the two larger florets that are undeniably raw. They sit on a smear of ‘chilli and coriander chutney’ without even a hint of chilli.
‘Gambas al ajillo’ / King prawns, garlic, red chilli
The last of the three small plates features four pneumatic-on-the-bite, beige prawns on dry, toasted bread, topped with a light pinch of chilli flakes and another heavy hand of salt. Despite proclaiming itself as ‘gambas al ajillo’, it’s totally garlic free and despite the heavyweight competition, it manages to land a knockout punch, to claim the ‘worst of the small plates’ crown.
Fresco di Masi Bianco
By this stage, with my expectations now taking in water, I’m thankful the wine—an Italian, organic Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio and Garganega blend—is at least palatable. Actually, truth be told it’s a million times better than the food demands, although ultimately, I’d be happier drinking it without the food.
Korean chicken burger / Double fried chicken breast, kimchi, gochujang aioli
Being a sucker for double fried anything, I’ve gone for the Korean chicken burger. It also promises kimchi and gochujang aioli, although the tick box quantities mean it’s nowhere near the flavour-explosion I’d imagined, but worst of all is the double soggy batter. Oven chips and bought in coleslaw are unable to pick up any slack. My expectations are now drowned… pronounced dead.
We’ve requested tomato ketchup and vinegar, which arrive in kitchen measuring cups. I assume it’s one of those terrible ‘hipster ideas’ like using flower pots to serve chips, but these are completely impractical and despite our best attempts, only ends in a table covered in vinegar. I’m more annoyed by this than I should be, but my blood pressure has been stoked by the kitchen’s insistence on using salt so liberally as a garnish.
‘Tempura’ fish & chips with pea puree, tartare sauce, ‘roasted lemon’, fries
Across the table are two ‘tempura’ fish and chips under a blizzard of salt flakes, with a dollop of tartare sauce, half a very unroasted lemon and a comical spread of pea puree that looks like someone’s cycled through it. I get to finish off my Mum’s fish, which is as decent a piece of frozen battered cod you’ll get, but as for it being ‘tempura’, it just puts into focus the menu creator’s artistic license to entice the diner without any thought to the capabilities of the kitchen nor what they buy in.
Thankfully, the bill is just £84 (£55 food / £29 drink) plus tip and I’m truly grateful it’s not my own money. But my Mum’s happy enough, although I’ve no doubt The Bournbrook Inn wouldn’t even be the best pub for food in the town where she lives.
AVOID 2/10
Pershore Road, Stirchley, Birmingham B30 2YT
