Vinoteca
FULL OF BULL
VINOTECA IS NOW CLOSED FOR BUSINESS
We’re well into a week of the Commonwealth Games and work schedules mean I’ve yet to experience any of it. My social media has been awash with tales of the city centre energised, vibrant and buzzing (and that’s not a reference to public transport). Never mind the sport, I’ve not even seen the ‘return’ of King Kong, the restored Floozie in the Jacuzzi, Huw Locke’s ‘controversial’ re-interpretation of the Victoria statue, nor even the mechanical bull.
Fortunately, a business lunch lands on the games’ second Friday and after a prolonged spell of chilly days and grey blanket skies, the sun is back. Mark’s arrived early, so we’ve snagged a table outside, soaking up the atmosphere of Chamberlain Square, energised by hordes of sport-topped tourists, families and kids doing gymnastics.
It's also less than three weeks since ‘Birmingham’s largest wine bar’ opened its doors for the first time. It’s Vinoteca’s sixth, but the first outside London and adds a third mammoth sized venue into ‘Paradise Birmingham’ after Dishoom and Albert’s Schloss.
Vinoteca Birmingham - interior
A wine bar at midday may appear a strange venue to conduct a business meeting, but as well as “stopping at nothing to source exceptional wines from all over the world” their website also promises they “pair with next-level, seasonal British dishes with a twist.”
I’m initially drawn to the set lunch, served Monday to Friday 12-3pm offering 2 courses for £18 and 3 for £21, promising a seasonal menu with “carefully sourced ingredients, created by each site’s own head chef”. But Mark is leaning towards the small plates and given we’ve only an hour to get the necessary business done, I’m happy to go with the flow, although I keep getting my head turned by the beef carpaccio, rocket and Parmesan on the set lunch menu.
We ask if we can order that without commitment to the set menu and it’s no problem, so small plates it is, with us choosing an additional couple each. I lend her a pen to take our order and off she goes to get our wine.
Within a few minutes, she’s back and having already destroyed the foil, she’s now struggling with the cork. “I’ve only been here a few days,” she announces, barely suppressing her panic. No worries… We explain the two-stage screw and pull technique with her waiter’s friend and whilst not remotely a problem, it just leaves us to experience her embarrassment completely due to not having been trained properly with the fundamentals of working in a wine bar.
Neal’s Yard cheese croquettes, aioli
As it happens it’s a pretty decent Rias Baixas Albarino with body, citrus zing and plenty of pear and peach in the mix. And then the food arrives and first up is a plate of four crisp breadcrumb fried, Neal’s Yard cheese croquettes on a snogger-friendly aioli bed. They’re only lukewarm, but there’s a savoury cheese kick with a pillowy soft middle.
Duck Liver Parfait, House Pickles & Toast
I’m next onto the paving slab of duck liver parfait with house pickles, but it’s making the two triangles of toast look inadequate. At least we’ve ordered house bread; day-old sourdough bread... perfect for toast as it happens, but as ever, the age-old giveaway for kitchen standards.
House Bread & Arbequina Olive Oil
I’m now a bit suspicious of the remaining three plates, all promising an ‘Italian touch’. The first of these confirms not only the suspicions I had, but many more too. There are four bone dry, stiff flavourless slices of ‘prosciutto Toscano’ with the promised ‘white peach’ just two eighths of an unripe nectarine, hidden under an undressed radicchio and yellowing leaf salad and there’s a complete absence of Parmesan. I’ve never felt more burgled by a plate of food.
Prosciutto Toscano, White Peach, Radicchio & Parmesan (as described on the menu)
I’m immediately lifted by the flavours on offer from the ricotta gnocchi with fragrant, sweet heat from rose harissa, alongside al dente Romanesco, fresh spinach and a generous pile of salted ricotta. Unfortunately, flavours aside, the gnocchi—despite the promise of the lightness of ricotta—are far too dense and chewy.
Ricotta Gnocchi, Rose Harissa, Romanesco, Courgettes, Spinach & Salted Ricotta
As for the beef carpaccio, rocket and Parmesan, off the lunch menu—so, let’s not forget it’s made from “carefully sourced ingredients, created by each site’s own head chef”—is nothing short of abysmal. Thin sliced, ‘roast beef’—the sort you get out a packet at the supermarket—with seven wilting rocket leaves and a sneeze of cheese.
Beef carpaccio, rocket & Parmesan (as described on the menu)
I’m now sharing the waitress’s embarrassment: I chose for us to eat here and there’s no pleasure whatsoever that Mark’s paying what must be around £100.
It’s laughable there are wine parings with most of the options on the main menu, but food this bad should only ever be paired with bottomless Prosecco.
Enough of this bull, I’m off to find the mechanical one.
AVOID (FOR FOOD)
2 Chamberlain Square, Birmingham B3 3AX
