670g, Birmingham B9: “A series of meaningful small plates bursting with flavour” – Restaurant Review | food

forErmingham’s dining scene often leans toward an intense atmosphere. I remember one foggy afternoon seven years ago in… Digbeth Dining Cluba ramshackle food market inside an old factory with a few seats, loud music, breakfast cocktails and bao; It was a completely chaotic way to ingest calories. Recently, I loved the city’s Albatross Death Cult, who delivered 12 courses of shimmering, seafood-focused precision to a gothic, darkwave-industrial soundtrack.

And now it’s 670g’s turn to bombard my senses, Brummie style, in a Digpeth novel Development of the custard factory. Chef Cray Treadwell started cooking at the much-loved and much-missed Purnell’s in the city, then had a spell at Michael O’Hare’s The Man Behind The Curtain in Leeds. By 2021, he had been named Michelin UK Young Chef of the Year after creating, with head chef Sascha Townsend (who was also previously at several O’Hare projects), this strange, monochromatic and moody restaurant playing semi-raucous hip-hop music.

The decor is downright basement, very dark in places, and there isn’t a single 50-watt bulb in the house. The bathroom is purposefully designed with all of Renton’s amenities “The worst toilet in Scotland” on Trainspotting. I stress there are no overflowing toilets, but every wall is decorated with graffiti and a toilet roll holder is made from a Polaroid camera. Meanwhile, pre-drinks are served in the 670 Grams Lounge around luxurious coffee tables and surrounded by moody artwork. The whole thing feels like being in an exclusive 1980s Soho hotel during a power outage.

Restaurants like this – tense, noisy and annoying – are always going to be a tough sell to some audiences. The menu, carefully executed over six or 12 courses, is a series of meaningful small plates — earthy bone broth here, a slice of Jameson Park trout there — all of which ooze flavor and, like all the best superheroes, emerge with an origin story. Meat and two vegetables this is not. Instead, expect the likes of glistening half-inch carabinero shrimp coated in eggless custard with a tinge of sambal and a sharp hit of lime, which is exotic and delightful in equal measures. Also interesting is a piece of Cornish bluefin tuna in an eel milk foam with a dollop of royal potatoes. Can you milk an eel? Is it the new dairy alternative?

Training courses are delivered at a steady pace, delivered by Treadwell himself and his highly competent staff. One of the highlights is the grilled Cornish mussels wobbling in a Thai turmeric sauce with a sweet touch of caramel apple. They are served with “sourdough” which resembles toast. 670g is not a place to arrive hungry and hope for a slap. Instead, it’s very clearly a journey, an exploration, a gastronomy exhibition, a high-concept dining experience, or indeed any of those other terms I’ve used before to define dinners of this kind (of which I’ve eaten hundreds), where the chefs cook at a high level, but cook such tiny quantities.

But the bottom line is: Do I remember this fancy little dinner? And the answer is a resounding yes: there’s something very endearing about Peterhead Market cod mixed with koji onions, sesame cauliflower, and a short but meaningful portion of Staffordshire Texel lamb cooked in jerk-influenced spices and served with a slice of roasted Hispie cabbage. The lamb comes with a rich sauce made from sheep’s milk and more hints of that jerk. There’s no doubt that every item on the 670-gram menu has been drawn, thought out, and measured to within an inch of its intended life.

Any hopes that the dessert courses would provide some much-needed escape from all that intensity are instantly dashed when they bring out carrot cake with a frosting made from lamb fat. This would have been the point at which my old Aunt Pat, may she rest in peace, was clutching her pearls, clutching her handbag and muttering under her breath about her Women’s Institute recipe. Being the brave type I am, I stayed put, and it turns out that lamb fat does, in fact, work rather well in a sweet frosting. Isn’t lamb and carrots a classic combination anyway? However, I won’t be looking for lamb flavored sponge cakes appearing in a Greggs meal deal any time soon.

The exquisite final course was safer ground: an homage to the local Cadbury factory and the beloved Fruit & Nut bar, albeit made with Tullacallum Grand Cru chocolate, Pedro Ximenez-soaked peaches and almonds. To the end, 670 Grams is very Birmingham: dark, hard, relentless, doing its own weird things, and never boring.

• 670 grams 4 Gibb Street, Birmingham B9, 07304 071289. Open lunch Thursday to Saturday 1pm (plus last sun of the month 3pm), dinner Wednesday to Saturday 7pm. Tasting menus only, six courses at £75, 12 courses at £115, plus drinks and service.