A lavish seven-course dinner served by Birmingham Chefs Alliance heralds a turning point for the city’s culinary credibility, writes Food Critic Richard McComb

It withstood the worst excesses of the Luftwaffe so there was every chance the historic church of St Martin in the Bull Ring would emerge unscathed from the Birmingham Chefs Alliance dinner.

But few who were present at the grand evening, sipping Champagne and nibbling caviar, could have foreseen the accomplished ease with which the event passed off.

Perhaps it was the ecclesiastical setting, amid the splendour of Alfred Chatwin’s Victorian Gothic design. Perhaps the 20 angels looking down on the stalls helped to impart a sense of divine unity. Whatever the reason, there was a lot of love in the nave.

The dinner, presented by seven of the city’s top chefs – our own Magnificent Seven – heralded the start of the revamped Birmingham Food Fest.

In 10 years’ time, I dearly hope the delivery of this seven-course tasting menu will be seen to represent another turning point in Birmingham’s gastronomic journey, marking the night we finally threw off the reputation of dining pariah and assumed the mantle of a nationally-recognised centre for cuisine.

Surely, you might say, Birmingham achieved this accolade a few years ago, when its tally of Michelin star restaurants jumped overnight from one to three?

In England, only Bray, home of The Fat Duck et al, can claim to have the same number of starred kitchens outside London.

But something quite remarkable happened last Thursday. Six of Brum’s finest chefs, marshalled by Simon Hellier, head chef at the ICC, worked together to deliver a complex menu to 180 diners.

To my knowledge, such a feat has never been achieved before. Could the chefs of Manchester, Leeds or Liverpool have pulled it off? Don’t make me laugh into my langoustines.

And what of London? Hell no, or at least not with the home-grown flair of the Birmingham dinner.

Because all of the chefs who cooked at St Martin’s were either born in the city or grew up here from early childhood.

The Birmingham Chefs Alliance dinner was 100 per cent made by Birmingham. (I couldn’t say made “in” Birmingham because the venison came from the Queen’s estate in Balmoral and the sea bass was from Brixham, but you get the picture.)

The majority of London’s fancy-pants chefs are shipped in from overseas, from France, Italy, Japan and Australia.

How many cooks born within earshot of the Bow Bells are in lofty positions in the capital’s Michelin-starred and equivalent restaurants?

The Brum contingent, by contrast, grew up amid the tribal roar of Villa Park and St Andrew’s. Birmingham pumps through their veins.

If I am honest, I approached the evening with sense of trepidation.