20-02-2025
William Sitwell reviews Kabuli, Birmingham: ‘Gloriously straightforward, soul-satisfying and rustic'
Fortunately I'd left Cyrus at home. Our fox-red Lab isn't great on trains and gets pretty tetchy at the intermittent Wi-Fi. And he would have been cross at me for not properly reading the note online about the restaurant that I thought had said ' Dogs allowed ', not noticing the additional word, 'outside'.
But then Kabuli, in the Birmingham district of Moseley, is all about positivity and thus couldn't bring itself to advertise the actuality of 'no dogs'. Maybe this is why they use the hackneyed term ' fine dining ' on Instagram to pump up their offering of Afghan cuisine. Which of course it isn't, which is not a criticism so much as an expression of relief. Although I'd be intrigued to see a zhuzhed-up version of the food of Afghanistan: spherifications of quroot, chapli kebab velouté or textures of Kabuli pulao.
Instead it was actually very, indeed gloriously, straightforward, hearty, soul-satisfying and rustic. And the interior design clearly aims at posh, with wide and comfortable chairs and banquettes, soft and pale furnishings, heavily textured, white-washed, cave-like walls, marble-topped tables and golden cutlery.
The menu is divided into Kabuli pulao (versions of the classic rice dish), qorma (curries), kebabs, sides and desserts. Our waiter advised us to have one of each so we chose to dine in that order and get some salad and breads on the side.
My pal Arsheen and I sipped saffron tea for a few minutes and then the whole lot came at once. 'All our dishes are prepared fresh and served as soon as they are ready, ensuring you enjoy every flavour at its peak,' I then noted on the menu, although I think there are ways around this, no? I mean like starting to cook one thing at one time, then deciding to start another at another.
But this is the mantra of many restaurants, particularly chains such as Wagamama. It's a good thing not all fads edge into the home. Although, as a bang-on-trend restaurant critic, perhaps I should try this one Sunday lunch. Everyone goes straight into the dining room then out come roast potatoes, smoked salmon, apple crumble, carrots, roast chicken, cashew nuts and Melba toast – in that order.
Yet we were feasting merrily in this classy cave and relishing the rich flavours of the lamb shank pulao. It came like a veritable mountain, the slow-cooked shank in the centre, its bone poking out as the peak, surrounded by a deep drift of rice and raisins and draped in bright ribbons of carrot. It was a wonderful combination of soft and rich meat, nicely tempered by the other ingredients.
There was the qorma-e-murgh, a mild chicken curry, more like a red stew of delicate spicing than its Indian equivalent and, such is the expectation of my mind, I rather wished it had had a little more heat.
The chapli kebab, which was ground beef patties – think flattened kebab – was covered with slices of raw onion and tomato. It was crisp and dry and, with its yoghurt dip, turned out to be a good contrast to the qorma (thank God they brought it all at the same time, eh?). And there were some fluffy naan breads and a simple chopped salad.
We called for baklava to end and also asked the waiter if he wouldn't mind cleaning the table. Which he did, bringing out a handkerchief from his pocket for the job.
Which I suppose sort of sums up the idea of swanky cave-like fine dining. Wrong-headed but great grub.
