Tropea
MANNA FROM HEAVEN
A weekend table at Tropea is the hottest ticket in town. The last time I joined the wait list, it just prolonged the agony and accentuated the disappointment when not getting in. But with our anniversary having passed by in a blur of busy work schedules, I feel determined, yet make only a vague suggestion we’ll eat out tomorrow at an unspecified restaurant and join the wait list.
It's my fourth attempt since their re-opening following a refurb in May; more significantly it marked closing down as a daytime café to enable them to focus on the restaurant. Given I loved it anyway, waking up this morning to a booking confirmation email is like manna from heaven.
It turns out the refurb is mostly about a new frontage with outdoor terrace, awning and crittal windows; inside they’ve ripped out the front shelf tables and added in an L-shaped banquette and yet it still somehow feels more restaurant.
Unsurprisingly, it’s still a menu that changes according to availability of seasonal produce with pasta dishes at its heart, all made in house daily, and the advice is still for five to seven sharing dishes between two people.
But first, a drink and I order a 500ml carafe of the Trebbiano-Garganega house white (her choice) and on co-owner Ben’s advice, opt for a large glass of Antonella Corda Cannonau; a Sardinian grenache that’s jammy with peppery spiciness and a saline finish.
The fried courgette flowers tick all the boxes; lightly battered, with the top of the courgette al dente and then the joy of soft centred goat’s cheese with added coolness from mint and sweetness from a drizzle of local honey.
There are yet more summer vibes coming from melt-in-the-mouth wild Cornish sea bass crudo, with the merest lick of tempered anise from pickled fennel, the fresh scent of orange zest and mustardy, citrussy tang from capers. It’s a perfectly poised plate of food.
The next plate is also melt-in-the-mouth; this time it’s equally sweet and savoury prosciutto culatta, complemented by a drizzle of twelve-year-old balsamic vinegar that still offers light acidity amongst the intensity of its syrupy hit. The gnocco fritto—fried dough—is taking on the role of wall flower and I’ve just the one left before realising it’s lacking the lubrication of a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. No matter, it prompts another large glass of the Cannonau.
No plate of food in a restaurant has the power to delight or disappoint me quite like octopus and despite just a 50% success rate, I keep going back. But, by sight alone I know it’ll delight and it delivers fully on that; perfect on the bite, caramelised grilled octopus, crispy potatoes, and decent dollops of ‘nduja aioli providing a light kick of sassy heat, and sweetness coming from roasted Calabrian peppers and Sicilian datterini tomatoes.
By now I’m completely smitten with the Cannonau, so I catch Ben’s attention for my third large glass, just ahead of tucking into my fresh pappardelle with venison shoulder ragù, under a deep pile of 24-month Parmigiano Reggiano. When he returns, I find myself uttering the words “this is the best ragù I’ve ever had” and I’m just about to hang my head in shame at such a ridiculous level of hyberbole, before realising it’s quite possibly true. Perfectly cooked, thick ribbons of freshly made egg pasta, coated in a gravy layered with flavours from intensified, strained cooking juices and then plentiful slow cooked nuggets of earthy-rich venison offering no resistance to bite.
I’m initially surprised to see ‘panzanella’ on the menu given the time of year, as its simplicity demands ‘best in class’ ingredients, until realising we’ve got the last of the best Italian tomatoes in the mix; Vesuvio AKA Bull’s Heart providing fleshy texture and Sicillian datterini a sweet hit combining sublimely with fragrant Tropea onions and the salty crunch of focaccia croutons all brought into line with a punchy red wine vinegar dominant dressing.
I feel the need to celebrate, so order another large glass of the Cannonau, before we go in for desserts. Mine’s a perfectly formed tiramisù, although it’s a tad too child friendly for my liking, but that’s easily rectified by ordering a liqueur coffee.
I also get to finish half of a wobbly, vanilla seed flecked panna cotta, that’s a textural and taste delight combining clementines in syrup, with sugar coated, crunchy shreds of orange peel and shards of tuile that provide a hit of earthy lemony thyme.
With two large San Pellegrino sparkling waters, the total bill comes in at £171.70 plus tip (£96.70 food / £75 drink), although that doesn’t include the £100 I’ve spent buying four bottles of the Antonella Corda Cannonau online, in the taxi home.
It’s no wonder it’s near on impossible to get in here at short notice at the weekends and I can’t imagine it’s going to get any easier given their recent well deserved recognition by both the Michelin Guide and Good Food Guide.
I can only hope I’ve got the foresight to plan ahead next time.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED 10/10
27 Lordswood Road, Harborne, Birmingham B17 9RP