Restaurant Review: Saffron
Saffron
909 Wolverhampton Road, Oldbury, B69 4RR, 0121 552 1752
A curious thing has happened in the past month: two restaurants have asked me to complain about them.
The fact this has happened twice, independently, prompts me to announce the discovery of an exciting new trend, the “kick-me-where-it-hurts” trend, Noughties’ sado-masochism for the restaurant trade.
Grubbing round for a line to hook in jaded readers, journalists habitually require a single, isolated occurrence for them to justify the uncovering of a dramatic development.
But seeing as I have got two bona fide examples of “kick-me-where-it-hurts” pleading, this unquestionably is a revelatory dining trend, right up there with tiny cubes of beetroot jelly, air-dried wasabi, butter on church-roof slates and bad coffee.
I’m all for it. The first time up, a city-based chef told me he briefs front of house staff to tell him immediately that a diner makes a complaint. I assumed this was because he wanted to sprint from the kitchen and bury a meat cleaver in the head of the customer.
But no, this wasn’t the case at all, he assured me. If he could talk to the diner, discover what he or she was unhappy with, he could offer a replacement dish or pledge to tweak or improve the dish accordingly for a future visit.
“Instead of having a dissatisfied customer, who will tell his friends not to come to my restaurant, I will have made a friend – and a regular customer,” said the chef.
I was so moved I almost wept.
Blimey, what an inspired philosophy and it’s one that makes financial sense. Ever wondered why so many restaurants go to the wall so quickly?
It’s often to do with duff cooking and half-cocked “concept” cuisine. But it is also due to that great enemy of the restaurant state: chef narcissism.
Self-love can only be excused in brilliant chefs and brilliance is a rare commodity in Birmingham’s dining scene. There are some good restaurants, some very good restaurants, but brilliance can be counted on the hands of a chef who has suffered digital amputations.
Despite the gulf between delivery and self-evaluation, chefs continue to be the chippiest professionals on God’s earth. It’s why I love them; we’re so alike. But being bolshy in the face of criticism is easy; humility takes a lot more heart.
Sudha Shankar Saha is not a brilliant chef but he is a good chef, possibly a very good chef, and it was at his restaurant, Saffron in Oldbury, that I was urged for the second time in a few weeks to offer up any criticisms.
Both Sudha and Aklasul Momin, Saffron’s founder, says they want to keep improving. They are happy at doing what they do but they want to keep pushing.
Coincidentally, both Saffron and the first restaurant that approached me specialise in Indian food. Although I suspect this is not a coincidence at all but rather reflects a cultural trait, a desire to please customers rather than alienate them, and therefore be successful.
Sudha cooks some of the best Indian food in Birmingham, he really does, even if he is officially at the stoves in Oldbury.
A local gourmand, whose pockets are so deep I’d happily live in them, told me he likes eating at Saffron because the sea bass tastes like sea bass.
He’s right.
Served as starter, the fish is gently marinated, given a nibble of saffron, shallow fried. The flesh isn’t overpowered by sauce and spice; it’s moist, delicately meaty; and it’s indisputably something that once swam in the sea.
We had it with a masala dosa, hara bhara kebabs (spicy lentil and spinach patties) and some simply prepared chicken tikka. I couldn’t reasonably fault any of them.
Dosas, which have started appearing with increasing regularity in the city, are the next big thing. Saffron’s rice pancakes are filled with spiced potato and served with tomato and coconut chutneys. Whack it all together and eat. Be nourished and smile.
I love the fact Saffron is prepared to offer dishes featuring meats such as rabbit (as a starter) but if I have a concern it is the pull towards “sophistication,” which I fear may be for sophistication’s sake.
The chutney-style fruit relishes, featuring apple, that Sudha often uses to enhance the central ingredient of dishes work very well, cleansing and adding subtle sweetness. But I am not convinced by some of the Western presentation, zigzags and droplets of dressing. I don’t think the food needs it; it looks great already, effusively coloured.
The chef has been influenced by all manner of Asian cuisines, including Cantonese and Thai, which has to be a good thing. But within the concept of a modern Indian restaurant, I’m not sure about, and won’t ever order, braised Barbary duck “tossed in smoky Chinese five spiced, flavoured hickory sauce.”
And I don’t get the point of beef steak a al Indiana (steak with wholegrain mustard and red wine flavoured mushroom sauce). There is no need for it, not when the Indian food is so good.
Where the nod to European cuisine does work, it is more subtle, and driven entirely by a juggernaut of Indian sensibilities. Tawali machli, a winning dish of pan-fried spiced red mullet, has a lovely beurre blanc flavoured with cumin and coriander. The fish fillets sit atop a chickpea and spinach cake (I’ll let Sudha get away with calling it a “gateaux” – ditto the “julienne of seasonal vegetables” with the good, garlicky murgh chadni chok).
We were served in good time but I was aware that some diners had to wait. That is an issue for the kitchen. In my books, starters need to be out within 15 minutes. There isn’t anyone who is so interesting that I want to talk to them for 20 minutes before masticating.
The vegetable side orders at Saffron are a must. We had potatoes in cumin, lemon juice, onion seeds and coriander and a light, hugely satisfying tarka dal. With vegetables this good, I could become a veggie. Well, maybe not.
Verdict 7/10 - The work ethic here is inspiring.
