Best restaurants in Birmingham
Published 14 May 2024

Following extensive refurbishment, this highly personal restaurant in Digbeth’s Custard Factory has acquired a dazzling new look. Gone is the dark, monochrome, graffiti-themed space with pumping music; in its place, 670 Grams now channels the light, bright tones of a modern, minimalist gallery, where art, clean lines and references to the city’s diverse cultural heritage create a cool, intimate vibe. There have been changes in the kitchen too, with the arrival of Manuel Ribiero (ex-Moor Hall, Whatley  Manor), who joins chef-patron Kray Treadwell and his wife Sacha at the stoves. Together, they create globally inspired tasting menus, ‘playfully plated’ bite-sized dishes featuring ingredients that are reimagined and reinvigorated with a touch of wit as well as wisdom. The ‘welcome broth’ offers ‘roasted bones and nostalgia’ in a bowl, while koji onion, cauliflower and homa dare (Japanese sesame dipping sauce) are bedfellows for Peterhead cod. A one-size-fits-all wine list offers easy drinking at fair prices. In short, 670 Grams is ‘a bold, brilliant reminder of why independent restaurants matter’.

Although centrally located close to Birmingham's New Street station, Adam’s feels like a tucked-away destination among the grand Georgian buildings of Waterloo Street. Behind the imposing plate-glass frontage, you’ll find a smart bar area with plush purple-velvet bar stools and a black-and-white tiled floor that leads into the elegant dining room. Seated at one of the well-spaced and simply dressed bare wood tables, you’ll be treated to a finely honed fine-dining performance, given by a team made up mostly of suited-and-booted young men. Expect lots of po-faced patrolling as five- or seven-course tasting menus are delivered (there is also an à la carte option), but the atmosphere is nevertheless convivial and lively for a restaurant of such serious gastronomic intentions.

The kitchen has seen head chefs come and go over recent years, although it appears to be firing on all cylinders under the current joint custody of Adam Wilson and Simil Gurung. One of the highlights of a recent visit was a superior 'surf and turf' that paired perfectly cooked leg and breast of quail with a plump langoustine. A fragrant yet restrained lemongrass sauce and spicy peanut relish completed a memorably delicious dish. While you might also find a light dusting of coffee on the morel foam coating an gigantic Orkney scallop, the cooking leans more towards classicism with combinations such as chateaubriand with a bordelaise sauce.

There’s a decent measure of creativity here, but the food always remains crowd-pleasing rather than ground-breaking, with impressive technique adding to the pleasure of beautiful-looking desserts (French gariguette strawberries alongside a lozenge of almond sponge topped with a delicate strawberry-sugar tuile filled with caramel mousse, for example). Serious Bordeaux lovers with deep pockets will particularly appreciate the wine list, especially as selections by the glass and bottle do not attract a service charge. Bargain hunters won’t find much under £50, but a full page of wines by the carafe provides consolation.

Peru comes to Brum in the shape of Chakana, the first solo venture from chef Robert Ortiz (ex-Lima in London). Located in the city’s Moseley district and housed in a former Lloyd’s bank (the safe is now a private dining room), this neighbourhood restaurant is an airy, plain and comfortable space with stripped wood floors and thick, rustic-looking wood tables. Food-wise, the ‘ambitiously sized’ carte delivers ‘creative and exciting’ dishes such as braised squid with Andean potato stew, crispy artichoke, seaweed and anchovies, or duck escabeche with plum and beetroot sauce and vegetable saltadito. Starters are mostly riffs on marinated fish, perhaps a visually arresting, incredibly fresh scallop tiradito – a citrusy, bright-red tiger’s milk sauce of hibiscus and rocoto peppers cut with another vividly yellow tiger’s milk, all squiggled around slices of incredibly creamy shellfish. Others have commented on the tasting menu, with highlights ranging from ‘excellent’ tuna quinoa nigiri (a take on sushi involving potato rather than rice) and sea bass ceviche with beautiful coloured chillies, different types and textures of corn and a sweet potato purée to superb 24-hour confit suckling pig with crispy crackling, plantain, charapita chillies and 100% Amazonian chocolate. Chakana may be Peruvian, but it also serves up a very decent Sunday roast combining the best of native produce with British lunching traditions. To drink, a mix of South American and European wines starts at £24; otherwise, the list is very strong on pisco-based cocktails.

Playing a starring role at the Artisan Market in Edgbaston, Chapter covers a lot of bases in one stylish, streamlined package. Weekend breakfasts should start the day as you mean it to go on, a smart bar with glitzy cocktails opens out to a terrace for drinking in the Birmingham sun, and dining takes place in a smartly attired room with op-art banquettes and an open kitchen. It all looks great (or 'annoyingly photogenic, if your partner insists on snapping') and the whole show is run by a team of impressively knowledgeable staff. Menus (fixed-price or carte) deal in the kind of modern brasserie dishes that city-dwellers love to eat: Caesar salad made with smoked mackerel; ham hock rarebit; chicken ballotine with couscous and chimichurri; market fish in, say, curried cream or lemon and caper butter. Simple bistro desserts won't lack for takers when it comes to strawberry pavlova or a chocolate and pistachio mousse topped with raspberries and a brandy snap. Sunday roasts are an invaluable local amenity, especially for locals who are partial to crackled pork rack or dry-aged beef rump with Yorkshire pud, perhaps served with a side of cauliflower cheese. Drappier Champagnes head up a by-the-glass wine list that isn't pedantic enough to give vintage dates, even for the reds.

Occupying the ‘bow end’ of the astonishing boat-shaped One Chamberlain Square building overlooking Birmingham Town Hall, this branch of Dishoom is nothing if not eye-catching. Inside, its take on a Bombay’s classless Irani cafés also pays homage to that city’s Swadeshi Market with all sorts of exhibits, paraphernalia and archive material – or you can enjoy priceless people-watching from the vast outdoor terrace.

Roll up early for buttery maska buns with hot chai or a chicken kathi roll, lunch on a couple of small plates (perhaps a pau bhaji or a chicken and mango salad), or feast on tandooris and grills such as the ‘perfectly spiced’ masala prawns. These share the billing with various ‘Ruby Murrays’, mutton pepper fry and the house special – in this case Goan monkfish curry strewn with curry leaves.

Of course, you can always go down the traditional curry-house route (spicy samosas and light bhel puris followed by a ‘succulent’ chicken biryani) but feedback suggests that this is less rewarding and far less fun than hands-on sharing. To finish, opt for something sweet and soothing such as a creamy kulfi. Drinkers are also spoilt for choice, with a bewildering array of cocktails, sodas, international wines and esoteric beers (one fan recommends the Dishoom IPA, ‘a very worthy and refreshing brew’).

One of the first wave of restaurants and bars to move into the upcoming ‘foodie oasis’ of Stirchley (a few miles to the south of Birmingham city centre), this ‘brilliant independent eatery’ sits on the site of a greasy spoon café (the original sign is still visible). Chef/owner Ming Nham was in the music/fashion business before taking to the stoves and it shows in the restaurant's cool soundtrack, buzzy vibe and hipster clientele. Here is a super-relaxed, friendly and comfortable venue serving food that's 'easy to get excited about'.

The commendably short and very reasonably priced menu (plus daily specials) could promise anything from ‘turmeric fried fish’ with pickles and nuoc cham to Marmite and peanut-butter chicken wings with a deep umami hit from the yeasty love-it-or-hate-it spread. Otherwise, the short weekly line-up homes in on noodles and curries: the former (served at room temperature) might include BBQ pork shoulder with house pickles, fresh herbs and peanuts, while the latter features meaty cuts as well as salt-and-pepper tofu.

Desserts are ‘locally made by Odi and Moo’. To drink, half a dozen low-intervention, organic and vegan wines sit alongside beers produced in collaboration with the Birmingham Brewing Company – their EVN Yuzu lager works particularly well with the food. There's a popular terrace outside. 

Competition is fierce in B3. Birmingham's Jewellery Quarter has a thriving restaurant scene but Ben Tesh and Lucy Hanlon’s well-established Folium more than holds its own. The interior style – pared back, comfortable – suggests a perfectly confident but low-key neighbourhood venue, yet it’s the setting for some ambitious culinary action. Working solo in the open-to-view kitchen, Tesh’s vision is an entirely personal one, a masterclass in ingredients-led cooking delivered without any sense of ego or overcomplexity.

Dishes on the tasting menu (long and short versions) are composed to bring out the best in prime (often luxurious) ingredients, and Tesh has the confidence to leave well alone when the components are in striking harmony. A whisper-thin ‘burnt onion’ wafer curled around a dot of intense chicken liver parfait makes a sublime mouthful, ditto a pillowy croquette of Mayan Gold potato topped with a light, creamy smoked cod roe and dotted with beads of pike roe. The teaming of exquisitely flavoured A5 wagyu sirloin with nothing more than grilled endive and a rich, glossy sauce is masterly, while the sweetness of turbot plays beautifully against a foamy ponzu sauce of delicious depth – best appreciated by mopping up with the accompanying deep-fried bread roll.

A delicate run of ices makes the perfect, light finish, from whipped marshmallow and yuzu juice, strewn with crispy rice for texture to a rich, creamy toasted hay, caramel and rye confection. Lucy Hanlon runs front of house with great charm, while Folium's enticing offer is completed by an efficient, wide-ranging wine list.

On Harborne's High Street, wedged between other businesses but with an open, come-inside appeal and brightness, this exceptional restaurant runs at full tilt – even on a midweek evening. Upbeat energy fills the space – from the bar, past the hard-working open kitchen (run with smooth, disciplined focus) to the banquettes and booths in the dining room. Pacy, friendly service delivers food that is a thrilling combination of the familiar and the luxurious, from an opening gougère (vigorous with aged Somerset Cheddar and Worcestershire sauce) via chalk stream trout (with the option of Exmoor caviar for added zip) to a ravishing dark chocolate marquise, its richness quickened with lime and a banana sorbet. In between? Much has been written about ‘Jamie’s chicken and white chocolate’. Don’t wince, it works. The fresh acidity of strawberries and nuggets of sweet chocolate balance the savouriness of chicken liver parfait, while oat granola (embedded with crisped chicken skin) gives texture. Elsewhere, a dish of Sardinian malloreddus (gnochetti sardi) luxuriates in butter. Doused in aged Parmesan and summer truffle, it's a dish of umami dreams, although you might also find it served with slow-cooked ox cheek and heady with Madeira, or fresh with spring asparagus and morels – depending on the season. Chicken is brined, poached and pan-finished, the tender centrepiece of an appealing main course that’s smoky with bacon, and bright with peas and baby gem. The wine list rewards scrutiny, not least for its relative affordability. A Spanish Monastrell (Finca Bacara) opens a compact by-the-glass offer at £8, and the paired flights (from £35) are worth a look. The ‘5 for £55’ menu is outstanding midweek/lunchtime value, but come on Saturday night for the full 10 courses and dive more deeply into the abilities of this exceptional team. If you’re pushed for time, pull up a bar stool, sip a spirited cocktail and order from a menu of artisan cured meats, cheeses and nibbles such as trout roe with lemon.

At first sight, Land doesn't look like one of the most consistent addresses for plant-focussed dining in Birmingham city centre. Sensibly dressed in muted grey and green, the small, shop-fronted dining room sits discreetly in an elegant Grade II-listed Victorian shopping arcade – the penny only drops when you take a look at the menu. The food may be strictly vegetarian/vegan, but leave any preconceptions behind – it’s a real one-off.

A broadly based clientele gives the place plenty of enthusiastic support: ‘The food looks great, tastes great and is great value for money – and I'm not a vegetarian either,’ is a common refrain. Expect a choice of four- or six-course tasting menus offering a mix of global ideas and a galaxy of flavours, kicking off with bites of potato crisp layered with fragrantly spiced pumpkin, coriander, beetroot and apple, topped with yoghurt and tonburi seeds. Elsewhere, a boldly flavoured char siu carrot with spring onion and delicate rice mousse, sprinkled with crisped wild rice set the tone for our lunch.

If the kitchen strains under the challenge of working without butter and eggs, it doesn’t show – the standout for us was a delicate, tender leek dish with a luscious, rich tapioca and dashi sauce topped with beads of seaweed caviar. And the ‘non-butter’ that arrived with the bread was a revelation. We loved the finale, too – a delectable chocolate, balsamic and blackberry confection. Service hits just the right note, and staff give sound advice when it comes to the thoughtfully constructed list of mainly low-intervention wines.

There is a genuine feeling of affection radiating from the many readers’ reports we receive for this cutting-edge Indian restaurant. To be sure, it’s an unashamedly smart destination and visitors appreciate the comfortable, softly lit lounge and the dining room’s elegant neutrality as well as the sense of theatre provided by the spectacular open kitchen.

Birmingham-born Aktar Islam has been pursuing his own path here since 2018, his culinary style vigorous and imaginative, a mix of aspirant riffs on familiar Indian recipes and stellar British seasonal produce. Once you’ve snagged a reservation expect clever textures, thrilling contrasts and exact spicing. From the palate-awakening shot of cucumber, green chilli and apple juice served with snacks such as an ethereal oyster emulsion with perfectly judged chilli broth and coriander oil to petits fours that might include a pistachio-crumbed madeleine straight out of the oven, the chef’s intricately realised multi-course menus pulse with innovation and flavour.

Sublime tandoori sand carrot jumbled with mini lentil pakoras is given added vibrancy with mint and coriander, while other stand-outs range from aloo tuk (pink fir potato with mango and tamarind) to a tantalising slice of tender hogget loin fringed with beautifully flavoured fat and served with its slow-cooked shoulder – made all the more memorable by a subtle hint of heat that lingers gently on the palate. Beyond these anchor points, we were equally delighted by a buttery, flaky just-baked milk bread, and an intriguing ‘After Eight’ chocolate finale involving pine ice cream and mint compôte.

Service appears to have thawed since our last visit; the front of house staff and the chefs who delivered dishes to our table were on the ball and warmly welcoming. Drinks impress too. Cocktails blended to match the cuisine are a particular strength, and the wine list – also carefully tailored to complement the spicing– flies you first-class around the world, with by-the-glass choices from £16.

* Glynn Purnell has announced the closure of Purnell's after a 17-year run. Last service 12 October 2024.*

Since launching in 2007, local hero Glynn Purnell’s ‘inventiveness, sense of humour, proud Brummieness and devotion to detail,’ still inform every aspect of the menu at his flagship just off Birmingham city centre. ‘Friendly, polite and well-informed’ staff rise to the occasion too, delivering pitch-perfect service in the spacious modern dining room. Purnell’s full tasting menu is experimental and highly individual, with trademark trips down memory lane for ‘cheese and pineapple – emotions of soixante-dix’ (a jokey homage to 70s party food) or a ‘mint choccy chip’ finale. The chef has no truck with fancy terms such as ‘amuse-bouche’, preferring to label his dinky appetisers ‘gifts from the kitchen’ (a tomato and crème fraîche meringue with Exmoor caviar, say). After that, expect a cavalcade of surprises: a truffle-themed ‘pig’ sablé with cheese custard and balsamic; a ‘stupendous’ tongue-in-cheek breakfast riff involving a poached hen’s egg yolk, bacon, garden peas and cider gastrique; roast sirloin of beef with unlikely companions including girolles, pistachio and wasabi. The pared-down lunch menu is also ‘impossible to fault’, according to one regular – from the ‘fish du jour’ (perhaps perfectly seasoned, translucent cod dressed with sweet, plump mussels, caviar and a vibrantly green parsley sauce) to a ‘spectacularly crispy’ tart of blood-orange cream and rhubarb with white chocolate, orange and lemon balm. The wine list is presented like a book, with chapters devoted to ‘the team’s recommendations’, Coravin selections and various countries (French reds get three chapters to themselves). Expect superlative drinking across the range, whether by the glass or bottle (prices start at £32).

Opened in 2021, Tropea is a love letter to Italian regional cooking, set within a clean-lined space that has recently extended into the building next door, with more covers and a bar/counter offering drinks as well as the full restaurant menu. The feel is of modern refettorio with a sleek navy-blue frontage and a cool, softly lit interior with hints of bronze and orange tones (there are tables outside, too). Reporters praise the exceptional staff, and the sharing ethos of the menus, which encourages much happy mixing and matching.

The bidding opens with inspired antipasti selections such as sea bream crudo with lightly pickled apple, monk’s beard and olive oil or gnocco fritto (fried dough) with 30-month DOP prosciutto di Parma. Pasta is a sure-fire hit (casarecce with beef-cheek ragù or tagliatelle with sautéed morels, and mushroom duxelles, for example), while the robust approach to principal dishes might embrace poached stone bass in ‘acqua pazza’ with datterini tomatoes and pickled fennel or BBQ lamb rump accompanied by Tropea onions, Jersey Royals and salsa verde. 

Anyone leaving without having bitten into one of the bombolone (filled doughnuts) has missed a trick – they are a textural sensation. Alternatively, a mighty serving of tiramisu or crisp deep-fried cannoli decadently stuffed with cream, salted caramel and chocolate sauce might fit the bill. Not surprisingly, Italy is the reference point for an approachable wine list with plenty by the glass or carafe – also, check out the prestigious ‘cellar list’ of notable regional vintages dating back to 2010.  

Should I Stay or Should I Go? The old Clash hit poses its punky question during an early course at The Wilderness. Stay, because this Birmingham restaurant is cool, unconventional and a spot worth knowing about – although its all-black paint job, mirrors, scrawled aphorisms and pumping soundtrack will not work for everyone. A tip before you wander, lost and late, on Warstone Road: the (black) Wilderness sign is hung high up, above the one for the neighbouring 24 Carat Bistro. In concept-land, being hard to find seems to be as important as the colour of the paintwork. Found it? Then settle in. The welcome from an exceptional front-of-house team overflows with relaxed warmth – they are knowledgeable, adaptable and welcome feedback. The chefs seem subdued though; the Wilderness theatre, on our visit at least, emanates from the floor not the kitchen. The six- or nine-course menu is called ‘All Pleasure is Fleeting’, a reference to spontaneity and ever-changing dishes. Thankfully, the pleasures of dinner don’t fleet. Beetroot ice cream is memorably sweet-savoury, its flavour nudged into technicolour by a green-chilli pesto that’s lip-smackingly bright and finely balanced; there are tiny cubes of beet underneath, while a smooth ajo blanco punches with garlic. Memorable too is a mushroom ragù, a tangle of savouriness from morels, girolles, chestnuts and cordyceps on top of chawanmushi (announced as ‘posh mushroom custard’). A cluster of puffed potato scraps adds a little texture. Other ideas could benefit from more of that texture, but how lovely to see the invention that has gone into these two vegetarian dishes. Turbot, dry-aged on the bone to accentuate its flavour, has been barbecued – 'fleetingly' – and finished with burnt butter. Smokiness whispers through the pale dish, a little smoked eel adding silvery glimmers. An aerated sauce made with more smoked eel is brightened with dashi, enriched with cultured butter and splashed with roasted bone oil. It’s an involved and thoughtful creation that’s deeply delicious. Among the wine pairings, the savoury-spicy notes of a punchy Georgian Saperavi are a particular triumph with the venison – seared and tenderly pink muntjac loin coated in cocoa and cep powder. There’s a delicious suggestion of autumnal wood fires and blackberries in the accompanying sauce, a piece of eight-hour cooked belly and a faggot made from the trimmings. Equally delicious is the glorious Banyuls served with a dessert of frozen Tahitian vanilla-infused mascarpone covered with an intensely treacly PX sherry reduction. It’s heady stuff. A poppyseed brioche seems more breakfast than dinner but brings welcome textural substance as proceedings draw to a close.

A real diamond in the rough, you might easily walk past the unprepossessing front of this Chinese café without realising the delights that await within. However, step inside the tiny DIY-decorated space and grab a chair at the counter overlooking the open kitchen, and you’ll witness magic at work. James Kirk-Gould, formerly head chef at that high-rise 24-hour London restaurant Duck & Waffle, now offers extraordinarily good-value Chinese home cooking in this Birmingham suburb – currently in the sweet spot of gentrification (it's still scruffy and cheap, but there's cool stuff to do and eat here and a palpable sense of community). Kirk-Gould is helped front of house by partner Cassie, whose fudge-making business next door provides the sauce for the soft-serve ice cream that is the café’s only pudding. Eating here feels a bit like having dinner with friends, partly because of the warm welcome but also because the menu is so short that you more or less have to eat what you’re given. If that’s the much-praised fried chicken, served crisp and crunchy in a puddle of chilli oil and Szechuan peppercorns with, say, a side of smacked cucumbers, beaten about and then macerated in lightly spiced sesame oil, you will marvel at the freshness and flavour. The drinks menu, also brief, offers Tsingtao beer, as well as green and chrysanthemum tea if you want to stay authentic. Just like the food, the bill will astonish you for all the right reasons.