Andy Richardson: All praise to restaurateurs and chefs

And yet we consistently punch above our weight around these parts. And that’s never more true than in the world of food.

We’ve every right to claim Birmingham as our own – and I know, I know, those pesky Brummies don’t spayke proppa, like a died-in-the-wool Yam Yam. The Second City gives London a run for its money when it comes to great food. With the exception of our Capital, no other town or city in the UK has the variety and quality that Birmingham offers.

And closer to home, both Shropshire and Staffordshire boast burgeoning food scenes where talented chefs do the right thing, where restaurant proprietors put their money where their mouth is and where talented restaurant managers view service as a career path rather than a way to earn a bit of spare change while working through their degree.

And so today, we celebrate some of the best there are. You’ll forgive our journalistic construct, pitting Ludlow against Lichfield, for the truth is more prosaic: there’s no competition between them and both are indubitably ace. But doing so creates an opportunity to shine a light on a small group of chefs who are creating the sort of culinary thrills that you’d normally have to travel to, erm, Birmingham for.

But let’s put to one side the notion of food and instead reflect on the fact there is excellence on our doorstep. In both Shropshire and Mid-Wales and Staffordshire and its hinterland, there are many who are committed to the pursuit of excellence. Similar levels of brilliance exists in our sports clubs and teams, among local businesses and entrepreneurs, in arts and entertainment and in some of our caring professions.

We’re a region where we make the most of what we’ve got, where we create opportunities, where we refuse to yield ground just because we don’t live in one of the UK’s most dynamic and thrusting cities. And this week – through the medium of food – we celebrate excellence. We show our respect to the hard-working chefs and restaurateurs from Bearwood to Bishop’s Castle, from Tipton to Telford, from Ditton Priors to Dudley. For although the guys we’ve focused on in earlier pages hail from Lichfield and Ludlow, this edition’s for all the pot washers and glass polishers, the vegetable choppers and wine pourers, the receptionists and administrators, the chefs and owners who stake their life savings on a dream.

Working in restaurants is nuts. Anti-social, undermined by the awful, awful TripAdvisor, at the whim and mercy of occasionally scurrilous customers and in the spotlight of reviewers, they might more easily find occupations that offer steady wages, decent working conditions and the chance of a settled domestic life. But they don’t.

Restaurant crews are as downright bonkers as people who form bands. And every once in a while – and this is that time – we ought to celebrate their diversity and talent, their persistence and dedication, their willingness to live on the wrong side of the tracks and their beautiful creativity.

Though we’ve chosen to focus on superlative restaurants – and if you’ve not eaten at Mortimers, in Ludlow, or The Boat Inn, at Lichfield, then book a table today, you won’t be disappointed – the little fellas without the starry reputations deserve just as much credit. So we make no apologies for devoting an additional 800 words in celebration of them. It’s pat-on-the-back time. It’s time to let those who sometimes feel they’re going crazy that they are appreciated and valued, that there are many who respect them, that they bring joy and happiness to many.

Working in a kitchen is a mug’s game – just as starting a band is the act of the clinically insane. It’s dark and hot, there’s rarely any natural light, there’s a web of intricate connections and relationships that must stay together if you’re to succeed and the exhaustion – coupled with the easy access to alcohol – means temptation is ever at hand.

It’s no surprise that many fall by the wayside.

They get burned out or are unable to make the sacrifices required to succeed in hospitality. Reality intrudes and makes their dreams untenable. They get scared and scarred and return to the 9-to-5.

But a few stick it out. And it’s those band of beautiful, starry-eyed dreamers who we lift our glasses to today. For when we’ve got a special occasion or a date with a partner, when we want to hang out or treat ourselves to something nice; the people who toil for long hours and low wages and the ones to whom we turn.

So men and women of restaurants, pubs, cafes and more – here’s to you. Thanks for the good times. We salute you.