They want a star at 670g. They said so much. Not Kray for once; he is full of concentration behind the kitchen counter whilst gently bobbing to Bone Thugs-N-Harmony’s ‘Thuggish Ruggish Bone’; but from his team. They know that there are spaces to be filled at the top table in Birmingham, big Michelin shaped spaces, and they want in. They’ve looked at what needs to be done and they are doing something about it. The wines have improved, they have more staff numbers on the floor, and they’ve even turned the hip-hop and grime into something more soulful once the other diners are seated. The last bit makes me sad. Still, there is no question that 670g are now taking this more seriously. They know what the guides are looking for and to a certain extent they are willing to play ball.
We made it, third time lucky and three weeks later than planned. Char Sui pineapple downstairs in the bar, slightly firmer in the bite and more refined than before, perfect with a very well made old fashioned, then the fried chicken (‘Kray FC’) with caviar, so good that I forget to take a picture of it. It is the best fried chicken in Birmingham, Kray could make a killing just doing this if he wanted. Then upstairs to the table, a broth of A5 wagyu fat and bone called Birmingham Soup and a scone with bacon jam which goes by the name of Brummie cake, because here we couldn’t give a fuck if the jam goes on first or second. And here is the key to this meal and the thing that makes Kray stand out in a similar way to his old boss Glynn; 670g is a Birmingham restaurant. Not just by postcode but the everyday life, its areas, its Pantone palette of colours, and its myriad of smells. The Balti Triangle and China Town. The history and the present. The sounds, the smells, the sights. Oh those sights. I’m going to use this moment to point out that Birmingham was previously a city defined by shit architecture, and is now a city defined by arguably worse architecture. There is no thought to the future, just whacking up more things to replace the mistakes of the past. It’s basically the Sugarbabes.
Anyway, back to 670g. A genius chawanmushi-of-sorts, set without eggs as a subtle nod to the Custard Factory building they reside in. Then bread and butter, a good if not life changing sourdough. Then scallop, a big bastard, draped in lardo and steamed to medium rare with a sesame paste and miso sauce. An interesting course; Sophie liked it more than I did but that might be down to a Harrods takeaway trying to finish me some days before with some questionably cooked protein. I loved the tiger prawns in a green thai sauce cut with loads of aniseedy herbs and finger lime, sheltered from my phone by a fried cracker that adds crunch and nutty notes. A duck leg, confit and then roasted with a deep glaze sets us up for one of the best moments of the meal.
I stop Kray and ask him where the next dish came from, as I wanted to know how he got to mallard with smoked massaman sauce, blackberry, fig and truffle working together in his head. The answer is a lot less convoluted than I thought: they used to do a dish with massaman using a smoked brisket, so they now smoke the sauce and add the blackberry (which goes great with the game) and truffle for contrasting notes. The fig, if you wondered, is there to replace the tamarind. It will be in my top ten dishes of the year. It is a special blend of flavours that sit in total harmony with each other. It’s worth the trip to Digbeth purely to eat this. One Michelin star nailed-on cooking. The savoury courses finish with keema and puffed rice, with a spicy curry sauce tempered with a little local honey. The profile is huge. It needs to be the last course and is for a reason.
The last three courses are excellent. ‘Milk Street’ is a reference to a street around the corner which formed part of the dairy industry, and comes as a woozy, quiet tribute to milk that tastes like mini milks in the best possible way, whilst ‘1928’ is the year that Cadbury’s launched the fruit and nut bar and is unsurprisingly a boozy mix of chocolate and raisins with impeccable balance. You don’t see any tributes to Marvellous Creations bars do you? You know why? They are shit. We end the meal with the cheese course of fruit loaf, truffled Baron Bigod, more truffle and pickled walnut. I’ve had it four times this year. It should never come off.
The tasting menu is £115, throw in the cheese course, some cocktails, a good bottle of wine and a nice whisky at the end and it’s not a cheap night out. It is a great night out, three hours of super smart, fun cooking that leaves you loving Birmingham a little bit more than when you arrived. As an aside, £115 puts it at the cheaper end of tasting menus in town, a stat I’m not sure you need but I am more than happy to provide. I loved it. Easily the strongest meal to date at 670g, which seems to be a habit of me to say everytime I come back. I wouldn’t back against them getting that star, the food is certainly around that level. Plus, anything that celebrates Birmingham is automatically a star in my eyes.
10/10
