Carters of Moseley sat on my list of “dinners I want to eat” for at least two years. But life’s flotsam prevented me. Also, if I’m honest, it’s trickier to find someone to accompany you on an experimental tasting odyssey in south Birmingham. San Sebastián? Now that’s easy. Modena? They’ll be queuing up. Goal hangers, the lot of them. Moseley, on the other hand, about three miles south of the Bullring, is a harder sell, which is shortsighted, because Brum is a lot of fun. There’s a lot of joy to be found at Digbeth Dining Club, the city centre’s weekly street-food shindig, and of course in a balti on Ladypool Road. And if fancy is what you’re after, the star men at Michelin love the West Midlands.
They certainly seem impressed by chef Brad Carter, the young, bearded, intense-looking proprietor of Carters, who puts me in mind of someone you’ve seen in a sepia photo of Victorian strongmen.
There’s a large dose of maverick in this rather unassuming single-room joint, between a pharmacy and a firm of solicitors in a mock Tudor parade of shops in Moseley. It does not feel a typical place to tout tasting menus of girolles with cereal, shimmering kohlrabi slices with tiny pine leaves or his signature Porthilly oysters cooked in beef fat. Carter and his team will take a small, luscious handful of ripe, Evesham tomatoes, skin them, then puddle them with smoked curd and a suggestion of basil. Or whip up an earthy porridge of pine mushrooms and grate Manjimup truffle on top. But despite the odds – and many, many chefs have crashed and burned offering tasting menus to a suburban clientele – Carters has been a huge success.
Perhaps this is because Carter conducts the sort of tasting menus that restore your faith in fine dining, should you have been burned in the past by 12 courses of titivated fresh air and a begrudging Burger King drive-thru en route home. Carter, on the other hand, means for you to be sated, over 13 or so incremental steps – involving sourdough, cultured butter, cream, barley, Cornish lamb figs, Orkney scallop and so on. Joyously, they can do the whole thing vegetarian – backwards in heels, if you will – without so much as turning a hair, and I love them for this.
So while Charles ate lamb topped with a vivid green mess of English peas and shredded sea lettuce, I was brought an entire, prettily roasted tiny cauliflower, browned on all sides, served with a tiny pan of buttery, elderflowery, lemony hollandaise. Too often when Michelin-star places ditch meat, one is left with several courses of petals floating in a spring garden consommé. Perhaps as a nod towards this, one course for the vegetarians is cress in a pot like a bonsai tree, with a pair of ornate clippers delivered to the table so you can, well, trim your own bush.
There’s a nub of Maida Vale soft, washed-rind Guernsey milk cheese on maltloaf. Later, Lichfield raspberries on fermented rice, creating a Michelin-starred Müller rice. Carter’s menu is a meaningful dance involving sharp umami thrusts and creamy, fruity bursts.
And it’s all peculiarly down to earth. Service is drilled and absurdly knowledgeable, but also warm and twinkly. On a Friday night, the room is a jolly, chatty, upbeat place with, yes, some serious gourmands snapping pics and ruminating over fermentation technique, but just as many Moseley locals picking their way through the biodynamic wine list. I drank a glass of Grafin by Sepp Muster, which was the type of cloudy orange, funky-tasting affair that makes some wine-lovers quite apopleptic.
I shan’t lie: 13 courses does go on a bit. This is always the way. During chef Gareth Ward’s 20-course tasting opus at Ynyshir Restaurant and Rooms, I left the table after 15 courses, went to my room, changed into lounge pyjamas, took my contact lenses out, listened to Black Sabbath to wake myself up and returned to the table with a second wind for the final five-course push. All restaurants should offer this option. At Carters we sat down at nine and left around midnight. As we left, diners were loitering around the pass, hoping to chat to the maestro.
Carters is my favourite type of discovery. It is wonkily, weirdly, pretty much perfect. It is challenging and a tiny touch gruelling, but I’d go back for seconds. There’s something a little bit magical in Moseley and they’re lucky to have it there.
- Food 8/10
- Atmosphere 8/10
- Service 8/10
- 2c Wake Green Road, Moseley, Birmingham B13 9EZ. 0121 449 8885. Open Tue Sat, noon-1.30pm, 6.30pm-9pm (bar open till midnight). From £45 a head, plus drinks and service.
Grace’s Instafeed
Hot chips, fancy slaw and cured salmon and pickles. I love the menu at The Crown in Woodstock. Simple things done thoughtfully.
Blue-cheese custard, pickled beetroot, celery and candied walnut plus a truffled potato croquette.The Quality Chop House dinner at Wilderness Festival. Even in a field, I retain my standards.
