Food review: Tom's Kitchen, The Mailbox, Birmingham

I use the term ‘company’ loosely. In fact, what I mean is that I was in the same vicinity as a famous face.

On the other side of the restaurant sat the original deliberater, cogitator and digester, Loyd Grossman.

Now there’s a man who knows his food, or at least you’d hope so. Former MasterChef host and now purveyor of fine, albeit salty, pasta sauces, I strained my neck to see what Loyd was eating. He’d know what to order.

He was too far away. So we both ordered the fish and chips. For about 15 quid a pop. And very good it was too – it should be for that price.

This is going back more years than I care to remember, and was in the first branch of Tom’s Kitchen in one of London’s poshest neighbourhoods, Chelsea, hence the price tag. It wasn’t long after it’d opened and chef proprietor Tom Aiken was there too, overseeing the operation.

Sadly, there were no such star sightings on a recent visit to the latest branch of Tom’s Kitchen, in Birmingham’s revamped Mailbox.

The restaurant’s stylish and modern; elegant brass lighting, high-gloss tiles and leather Chesterfield-style seating, it combines gentleman’s club and traditional chop house. Occupying a large unit near to Harvey Nichols, its seating area spills out on to the mall, making it a prime spot for people watching. With its green and sand-colour interior it’s rather unlike its Chelsea sister, whose stark interior makes The White Company look like a riot of colour.

Close by, Tom’s Deli occupies a prime slot in the centre of the high-end precinct, offering up quinoa salads, brownies and flat whites. Designer food for designer shoppers.

We were seated on the ‘outside’ of the restaurant, proffered menus and a wine list from a friendly waitress.

The menu’s traditional British comfort food: steak and thick-cut chips, lamb chops and mash, slow-roasted pork belly with all the trimmings. There’s guinea fowl with spelt and barley risotto, and venison with poached pears and beetroot gratin. Fish-lovers won’t be disappointed either, there’s monkfish, scallops and salmon dishes to chose from. Vegetarians have fewer options though – it really is all about the meat and fish at Tom’s Kitchen.

With such hearty options on offer, we refrained from the bread basket and went straight for the starters. The other half chose the spicy crab cake with cucumber and chilli relish, while I opted for the homemade ricotta. I couldn’t decide between the ricotta and the scallops, which came with a pine nut risotto and black pudding. I opted for the former. Both dishes were immaculately presented, my ricotta looked particularly inticing. Thickly whipped, it came piled high in a little terracotta dish and was decorated in chopped herbs and drizzled in quality olive oil and balsamic vinegar. It arrived with two slices of toasted sourdough. Mild, creamy and moreish, it was like Philadelphia for grown-ups and tasted delicious smeared atop of the openly-textured bread.

My boyfriend enjoyed his spicy crab cake, although remarked that it was too salty and could’ve done with a blob of aioli, or similarly creamy mayonnaise-like dressing, to balance the flavours. Well that’s what he said as he repeatedly dipped into my ricotta cheese. Never mind, there was plenty of it.

Empty plates were whisked away, water glasses were topped up and drinks replenished in what was generally very efficient, seemless service.

For main course I couldn’t resist one of the steaks, so chose the 250g Cumbrian rump steak, while my other half ordered the slow-roasted pork belly with crushed root vegetables and honey parsnips.

The steak was nicely charred and served medium-rare as I’d requested, and came alongside a bucket of triple-cooked chips. It was accompanied with a watercress and shallot salad but I failed to notice this on the menu and ordered a side dish of rocket and parmesan as well. Still, we were always told to eat our greens.

The meat was juicy and satisfying and had been so well-rested that it was on the side of cold. The chips, on the otherhand, were so blisteringly hot they failed to reach an edible temperature before the end of the meal. Of the chips I managed to eat, the top quality of spud was evident. The tasted ‘potatoey’ rather than of the oil they’d been fried in.

My other half poked around at his pork belly disappointed the promised apple sauce was missing. A waitress was happy to oblige though, delivering a ramekin of sauce immediately.

He ate it without comment which meant it was perfectly adequate without being remarkable. However, he did say the crackling failed to ‘crack’ and was just too thin. No good can come of too thin crackling, can it?

Somehow we found room for a pud, however the offer of a daily special of ‘crushed Maltesers with ice cream’ was a low point. It sounded like something on a Disneyland menu; a pudding the kids had rustled up after raiding the kitchen cupboards.

“Surely they should’ve called it a chocolate and honeycomb dessert? Sounds a bit more appealing?” remarked the other half. He was right. Of the more attractive options there was a chocolate and peanut butter fondant, and the sticky toffee pud with date and vanilla ice cream.

We chose to share the plum Bakewell tart, which came with a nicely tart sour cream ice cream. The excellent short-crust pastry and fruity filling made it a triumphant end to the meal.

The bill came in at £97 which included two pleasant glasses of wine and a bottle of sparkling water. A decent price for quality, well-sourced food.

By the end of the meal we’d certainly deliberated, cogitated and digested. And even though there were no celebrity sightings during our night at Tom’s Kitchen, it didn’t matter because the food was the star of the show.