According to my blog I last visited Folium in November of 2018. That’s seven years for those of you who can’t count, and seven years too many for those of you who know how good Folium is. My only excuse is a rubbish one; they never used to change the menu much, which is fine for those of you who don’t write about restaurants, but absolutely pointless to anyone who does. It’s harder on my wallet when the best I can muster is the I-can’t-be-arsed-to-describe-a-dish-again nonsense, especially when I’ve paid top-whack for it. So Folium got mentally parked when it never should have done, and I’m not around these parts nearly enough to change that. Except for one day when I’m working from the JQ and decided to go try a sandwich, which incidentally wasn’t anywhere near as good as the pricepoint suggested, that took me to walk past the restaurant, peer into the menu box and stop. All new dishes. And even better, all the new dishes that I wanted to eat. I walked in, said hello and sorry in that order and booked a table. Then I phoned my wife and told her that I’d booked the meal for my actual birthday night and that she would like everything on the menu.
Six weeks later and I’ve had a lovely day with my Dad and two of my best mates, drinking Guinness and whisky whilst winning at pool and life. I meet Sophie there at six, settle into the rhythm of two glasses of champagne, and start on what is one of the very best meals I’ve eaten in Birmingham. Like seriously, how is this place not rammed to the rafters every week? Where is the star? Where is the exceptional rating in the Good Food Guide? Where is the press? You want flavour, it’s here. You want precision, it’s here. The only thing that isn’t here is me for the last seven years.
Nibbles of the smoothest liver parfait wrapped in a delicate curl of burnt onion set the tone immediately, followed by a tartlet of potted trout with brown butter that’s given brightness by a little elderflower gel at the base. Then a whole sourdough between the two of us to share with butter which is unique for being made in-house and really excellent. Too often the butter is too lactic or two cheesy; nearly always it’s undersalted. Not this. This could have been from Brittany.
The chawanmushi strikes conversation that eventually reaches the kitchen. Why are they often so bad, and occasionally curdled and/or flavourless? This is a superior example of how it should be; lightly perfumed with high quality truffles from Australia, soft, silky, delicious, with more of that truffle on top. They were thinking of getting rid of it because everyone does chawanmushi now. No chance, not when only Ynyshir does it better. There is raw tuna with shisho jelly that is refreshing and light, followed by smokey lobster tail in a lavish sauce of preserved tomato and lobster roe that hints at the ocean from underneath its silk gowns. They serve this with a brioche glazed with lobster butter and honey that quickly gets used to mop the bowl dry. It’s unreal cooking.
Last savoury course is A5 wagyu short rib that’s been slowly cooked for two days, with endive that’s been cooked until the outer shell is blackened and then removed. I preferred the flavours of the endive which were deep and concentrated to the beef that was almost too buttery in flavour and texture. As much as I adore high-grade Japanese beef, in this instance A4 might have been more suited to the dish given it would be a little more beefy in flavour. We get cheese in impeccable condition and Christ, I am very full.
Sophie loves the first dessert. Like really loves it, which is a miracle given she doesn’t usually like desserts and she always hates yuzu. It’s a kind of yuzu cream set with marshmallow for a texture which I’m struggling to explain, but had something very similar at Lake Road Kitchen. As an aside, this place reminds me of Lake Road Kitchen; small team getting their heads down and believing that their style will one day be recognised, which it did for them last year, six years later than it should have done by Michelin.
Then a kind of bread pudding that uses yesterday’s sourdough and riffs on varying notes of caramel and yeast that is shatteringly brilliant. We have petit fours on the pass that includes a macaroon which makes me recall why I don’t like sunflower seeds much, and some pretty incredible madeleines straight out of the oven, gently scented with whisky to be dunked in whisky flavoured cream that is anything but subtle in the best possible way. It’s my birthday so Sophie pays, I don’t know how much, but I’m guessing about £190 a head given the wine we drank.
One week on and I’m writing this whilst looking back at a month of eating to see where it fits in. There are meals twice this price I can’t recall dishes of, yet here I can still taste the best bits; the truffle custard, the lobster, the bread pudding and those madeleines like it was last night. It’s food to be excited about and to take pride in that we have this in Birmingham. If you haven’t been, go. If you were looking for an excuse to go back, go. Basically just go.
10/10
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