Blake’s Restaurant is housed within The Westmead, a hotel on the outskirts of the city I have not been to for over a year. The last time I was here it was for a wedding, a lovely occasion where they made the error of inviting me all day, resulting in my Saturday drinking start time being pushed back two hours to 11am. Unsurprisingly, I was a mess. The hotel has changed a lot since then, undergoing a massive refurbishment since the turn of the year – the bar has been extended, the entire area spruced. The biggest change has occurred within the restaurant area – now Blakes, a handsome dining room of petrol blues, pale greys and copper. If the devil really is in the detail, this room is pure evil. It is proud and cleverly lit, a dining space any food would be glad to grace.
On first glance the menu doesn’t smack of ambition, it looks to be a modest affair that saves the bravado for the plate. Dishes that don’t promise much transpire to be much more elaborate in composition. A crab and prawn pot has plenty of crustacean bound in an acidulated crème fraiche with pickled cucumber at the base. It is crowned with salmon roe that pops with salinity and a delicate squid ink tuile. We’re initially shocked at how pretty it is. On the side is an accurately cooked king prawn and a mini loaf; two very different things to pull apart with fingers and savour. At £7.50 it’s as expensive as the starters get, showing that the kitchen are not only downplaying their talent but the prices, too.
The mini loaf returns for potted pork, the braised and pulled meat hidden under a blanket of clarified butter. It all eats well but needs to tone down the acidity; it’s everywhere. The vinegar in the piccalilli is a little too sharp, and lemon juice is detectable in a winter ‘slaw. Even the pork has an underlying zing. I get the want to freshen everything up but this is a plate of food that would benefit from accepting that it is rich and fatty. It is very nearly there. We still finish the plate because nothing is going to come between me and pig with piccalilli.
They have a wood fired oven here that they use to make pizza and more snacky items, which appear to be doing a roaring trade in the two weeks they have been trading. From the former we take a pizza draped in good quality meat and add olives that have come straight out of a jar. Given the obvious the effort gone to sourcing here, the olives seem a small slip that I can overlook. The pizza is good; supple with a nice char on the crust, and plenty of tomato flavour on the base. It is extremely generous in size and serious value at under £10. Dough balls are generous sides at four quid, which would make a good snack with a pint propped up at the bar.
Pork steak is a grown-up riff on gammon and eggs. At the centre of the plate is a fat cut of tender pig, accurately cooked so that it blushes pink in the centre. A couple of poached eggs provide the rich sauce, whilst a pineapple salsa is a smartly judges mixture of sweetness, acidity, and heat. It doesn’t need the avocado purée, nor do I understand it’s place on the dish, but the chips are serious things that snap and comfort. It is downright delicious.
Our choices for desserts could not be more different. I love the simplicity of affogato, the idiot proof process of pouring shots of espresso and amaretto on to vanilla ice cream. And there’s not much to say about it other than it hit the mark was and keenly priced at £5.50, including the booze. Claire’s dessert on the other hand is on of those that is destined to pop up on Instagram feeds. A peanut butter and chocolate brownie is downright naughty, with a healthy crust and squidgy centre. On top there is a wave of tempered chocolate and a macaroon, both sprayed gold. Elsewhere on the plate are raspberries freeze dried and as gels, pistachio ice cream, fresh passion fruit and again as a gel, and honeycomb. This is a serious amount of pastry work, saving the best course for last. It’s hard to fault and very quickly finished.
It’s hard not to admire what they are doing here, it would be so easy for a hotel like this to sit back and make a living from weddings every weekend, yet they are pitching themselves above that, providing food that looks and tastes the part. It’s not perfect yet, but I wouldn’t expect it to be after two weeks, and we really enjoyed our meal. The kitchen have already landed on their feet and with the smallest of tweaks will be running in no time at all time. I won’t be holding out for the next wedding invite to arrive before I return to The Westmead, Blake’s restaurant is one that I’ll be keeping a close eye on.
I was invited to Blake’s by Birmingham PR agency, Delicious PR http://www.deliciouspr.co.uk
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