Rating
Cuisine
Indian
Appeals To
Those with an interest in Hindustani and Vedic culture and modern places imbued with their history. People who like eating from a menu divided into historical periods, and in places endowed with the smell of spice and thick, ancient Indian doors
People who want to experience the super overpowered version of the conventional curry house dinner. Or culinary visitors to Birmingham with money to spend who have heard stories of tales of Brum’s curry scene and want to put one of its most distinguished spots to the test.
Displaced members of the Raj (in Birmingham) looking for something that reminds them of home.
In a Word
Venerable
Itihaas, it has history
Itihaas actually is the Indian word for history – and the restaurant seems to be making the most of this idea…
As ever I’ve done no prior research but hear people talking of Indian fine dining in whispered tones and mentions of wins in Cobra Beer’s Good Curry Guide. Worth a look then?
An unassuming exterior hides a wonderfully designed and very…Indian interior. To my relatively uninformed self, it feels like the inside of a Raj palace or something equally aristo-Vedic-swanky. I enter to the smell of incense in the air, and the sight of a sultry, long legged Indian woman in a cocktail dress sitting by the entrance, legs crossed, eyeing the bar area.
Said bar area is all dark wood (maybe mahogany) and amaranth red seats, chandeliers, stone elephant statues and semi abstract art on the walls. Behind the bar, the barman (who turns out to be Finnish) is stirring something with gin in it.
In the background, an Indian style downtempo playlist fills the air with the sound of pianists mashing Maj7 chords to the accompaniment of bansuri flutes in a very reverberative space. I don’t know if it’s the incense restricting my oxygen supply at this point but I find it to be quite sedating.
The restaurant manager is a ‘hands on’ kinda guy – instantaneously seeing me to my seat. Later in the evening he’ll do the same for other diners. I’m initially seen to by Deadly Serious Waiter, who appears unable to smile but is efficient like German machinery. He is later replaced by Rather Curious Waiter, who is also efficient but also interested in my accent, camera, hairstyle and reasons for existing.
I show at 6pm and the place is very quiet indeed. Initially, just me and the two softly spoken white Brummies sitting behind me. It really starts to fill up around 8pm – with initially an ever expanding group of hip, young Asians, then some odd couples, a large Asian family, then finally rambunctious group of white people that looks like a work function (dressed to the nines and ready to party haado). Like most Indian restaurants, Itihaas appear to do a roaring trade in Cobra beer.
Turns out there is another room downstairs, usually used for private functions.
Adjascent to that lives another room with butler service and it’s own little library. You go there to show people how important you are.
Since I’ve got a camera, the staff want some group shots done. OK then!
The Food
The drinks menu is full of unexpected things. A medium sized selection of wine (with a few £45+ numbers). It’s also pretty whiskey heavy. Lots of Martinis, a few of their own unique creations, and a few shooters that wouldn’t be too out of place at your local rowdy student union bar. Said shooters don’t seem to fit such…restrained and regal surroundings and I think of ordering one for comedy value. Then I remember that a B52 plus curry sounds horrendous and I don’t.
The menu itself is a cool idea – divided into historical periods, which correspond to which part of the dish you’re eating, it’s a thick piece of literature that goes through the origins of the India we know today – covering a few millennia in the process. I skim through it and instantly become an expert on Indian history.
An unofficial tasting menu appears. This is great ‘cos there’s a lot of variety but said tasting menu is hard to corroborate – all of the dishes are explained (complete with Indian names) much too fast for me to note them all down :(.
I also wonder how much incense interferes with your palette (half seriously), as a guy ignites one next to me…
Course 1 – ‘The Tandoori Edition’
I am given tongs, and never work out why. This platter contains what is quite possibly the best battered fish ever. I’ve no idea how they make it do that.
The lamb chop is so well cooked that the oven blackened bone actually breaks when I’m cutting it. That said… the lamb itself is not burnt. *scratches head* Miraculous.
There are also the little and ubiquitous beetroot slivers, truly the recurring theme of Indian cuisine.
Course 2 – ‘The Food Coma Edition’
So yeah, I pretty much have no idea what any of this is. I think people expect me as a food writer to know everything about every food – the joke’s on them.
The pots seem to give no fucks for thermodynamic law and retain the physical heat of the dishes basically forever. You can also rotate the shiny plate so that you can better focus on whatever it is you want to eat at this time. I use this technique to focus on each dish in turn with the type of serious concentration reserved only for high end curry houses in the Midlands. It’s like meditation but FASTER.
Of particular interest are the prawns, which are an entirely new level of chewy (in a good way), and the fact that it comes with 2 naan breads (sorry, I don’t have enough digestive enzymes for all this).
I eat most of this course and then receive a timely message from my hypothalamus that there’s no space for calories left and can I please drink some water already, the spice is getting a bit much.
(I don’t eat) Dessert
I don’t opt for dessert – not because I’m some kind of food puritan, or trying to avoid sugar, oh no. I’m just full.
Still, they have a relatively small offering (5 dishes) which are pretty ice cream heavy. Instead, I ask for a freshmint tea and get what looks like two or three freshmint teas at once – they’ve taken a teabag and then dropped a bunch of mint on top of it.
Initially I am worried that it’s going to be like some kind of minty mouth disaster explosion but it turns out to be very delicious. They should call this ‘muchmint tea’ and position it as a highly effective antidote to the food coma.
The Verdict
I’d say I’d return, but that would be a lie because it is in Birmingham and I am in Croydon. Even a curry this good doesn’t justify that kinda trip on a regular basis. Unless you’re some kinda crazy curry obsessive, who routinely travels hundreds of miles then DO IT.
Still, I was very well looked after and enjoyed it quite a lot – so if you’re in Brum and so inclined, take a look at Itihaas with your mouth.
If you eat curry on a regular basis, the whole experience should feel like a great big adventure…
The Details
A: 18 Fleet St, Birmingham, West Midlands B3 1JL
P: 0121 212 3383
W: www.itihaas.co.uk/
T: @Itihaasindian