Simpsons Restaurant, Birmingham

Don't believe what you see on TV, all our reviewer

found was an air of calm.

There's an angry chef in the corner, screaming at his commis. Pots are being thrown through the air like confetti and a young waitress is crying quietly at the back of the dining room.

The swear box is filled with dirty tenners and the delivery man is suffering a nervous breakdown over a box of discarded fish heads.

That, so TV shows would have us believe, is what life is like in Michelin-starred kitchens: blood, sweat and fears. The scene at Simpsons, in Birmingham, however, could not be more different.

When my friend and I visited, we looked through the porthole windows from the restaurant to the kitchen and observed an atmosphere of Zen-like calm.

The pots were safely stowed in tidy cupboards and there are no hissy fits among the brigade.

Executive chef Luke Tipping and head chef Adam Bennett were serenity personified, smiling benignly at their younger charges.

Cooks wandered between workstations like monks at prayer; if they swapped their starched whites for orange robes, they could have been mistaken for worshippers at a Buddhist temple.

The dining room was similarly becalmed. Under the tutelage of an accomplished maitre d, the service was unstuffy and assured.

The confident waiters were attentive but unintrusive; diners were made to feel special in an environment that oozed sleek sophistication. In recent years, I've visited Simpsons for special occasions. It offers one of the best value set three-course deals in the region, which at just £35 for three courses with wine is exceptional value.

There are other stand-out features. The restaurant has a phenomenal pastry chef, whose desserts and breads frequently thrilled, while the light, airy dining area always excites.

When my friend and I arrived, the attire of other guests reflected the venue's widespread appeal.

In one corner, a young couple were enjoying an amorous evening pour deux. On a larger table, members of a causally-dressed family celebrated a significant date on the calendar while telling one another ribald stories. Beside us, a table of five businessmen struck deals while chewing the fat and to our left, a group of three men enjoyed a late evening dinner, looking as though they'd made their way straight from a V-neck jumper convention.

Enjoyable though the dining room and service are, Simpson's raison d'etre is its classic Euro-centric food.

When we'd arrived, we were shown into a luxuriously-upholstered lounge to enjoy olives and an aperitif before being shown to our table. We were greeted with an amuse bouche, described wittily as fish 'n' chips, which comprised a thimble-sized slice of cod wrapped in a thin potato strand and sat atop a bed of the most piquantly-delicious tartar sauce ever made. It was glorious.

My friend started with a velveteen risotto of asparagus, parmesan foam, olive oil and a duck egg cooked at 65 degrees. Her plate of luxuriant comfort food rendered her temporarily speechless.

I opted for a well-judged sweet-sour starter of five-spiced monkfish with confit kumquat, sesame seeds, Chinese greens with a honey and soy butter sauce. Cantonese food never tasted so good.

We ummed and ahhed about our mains; during our cogitations we contrived to select all options, at various stages.

Happily, my friend chose the evening's star player; an exceptionally alluring fillet of tenderly-cooked turbot with pea and mint ravioli with a warm salad of broad beans, pea shoots, celery and watercress.

It was spring on a plate. The pea and mint ravioli was a thing of rare beauty. It will live long in the memory.

I opted for the roast squab pigeon with peach, point cabbage, duck liver topped with amaretto crumble and a chocolate sauce. It was an impeccably-seasoned, well-matched and perfectly-judged plate of compatible combinations.

My friend opted for a savoury dessert, comprising a beetroot carpaccio, pistachio and goats' cheese, while I opted for another of our evening's stand-out dishes, a hot/cold passion fruit, ice cream and chocolate confection that showed the wizardry and invention of a latter-day Willy Wonka.

Michelin stars are hard to come by and Simpsons has worked hard to win and retain its averment of dining excellence, since opening in 2004.

With a delightful venue, competitive pricing strategy, exceptional service and, all-importantly, exquisite food, it will remain in the Foodie Bible for many years to come.

ADDRESS

Simpsons Restaurant, 20 Highfield Road, Birmingham, B15 3DU

Telephone: 0121 454 3434

Web: www.simpsonsrestaurant.co.uk

LUNCHTIME OFFER

Michelin-starred restaurants have a reputation for breaking the bank. The popular misconception is that you'll have to shell out £70 or more for a slap-up dinner.

In fact, two people can enjoy a three-course meal, with great wines, for exactly that. Simpsons offers a great value set three-course deal, where visitors can enjoy a bottle of top notch wine with exquisite food as part of their bill.

Example menus include:

Menu One

Mackerel ballotine, pickled vegetables, parsley

***

Wiltshire free range Pork belly, slow cooked cheek, glazed carrots, grelot onions, smoked bacon,green mustard

***

Warm ricotta doughnuts with raspberry espuma, and white chocolate sorbet

Menu Two

Quail breast, confit leg, couscous, apricot, aubergine, almonds, ras el hanout

***

Brixham plaice, cucumber, Jersey royals, radish, seaweed butter, caviar

***

Strawberry, lychee sorbet, Chantilly and meringue

Three courses £35, to include half bottle of house wine.

The deal is available each day, at lunchtimes only – from 12pm until 2pm Monday to Friday and 12pm until 2.30pm Saturdays and Sundays.