Dinner / ££ / 6.5/10

Only a stones throw north of the city centre is the Little Brick House on Derby Road. I had been meaning to visit for a while but a raving review from my sister kicked my arse into action and I booked for easter weekend.

I had heard a lot about this little restaurant a year or so ago but things had gone more quiet recently and I assumed it was the buzz of the ‘new’ fading gently into the thrum of the ‘established’. Upon trying to book a table we had to choose a few weeks away, the night we visited the dining room was full and we were invited to the bar area while they cleared our table. The bar at the back is a dark cavern of curiousities. Eccentric and eclectic paintings, murals and sculptures that are an absolute feast and under the romantic light of candles Little Brick House oozes charm.

The menu is concise and seems to borrow influence in much the same way the paraphernalia around the restaurant does – on the chef/owners whim. It made us feel like there was quite a lot of freedom to pick and choose. Indonesian alongside burrata – why not? As we were choosing the lady from the table next to us got up to go to the loo and one half of the restaurant was plunged into a little more darkness than is desirable for dinner. The hostess came over and explained the chair had caught one of the extension cables and knocked out most of the lights. With a quick swish the lights were back on but it became obvious that this restaurant had no million £ refurb like some of the newer restaurants in Nottingham. Although I get a bit tired of Nottingham ‘shabby chic’ restaurant styles the Little Brick House gets away with it because it has a real soul. It feels like you are in someones house and that air of generous hospitality extends a gracious hand to guests throughout.

We started with bread and olives; so far, so boring. The bread was eye wateringly salty and I can only assume comes from Tough Marys a couple of doors down, with a light oil it would have been delicious but the wild garlic butter packed such a ferocious raw garlic punch we both struggled to finish.

Next came the sweetcorn and despite The Northerner tucking in with gusto I didn’t enjoy the dish, the sweetcorn was tinned and so was a poor imitation of the buttery flavour you get with fresh corn and the dish was too wet. The honey and feta melted into the brine of the sweetcorn and although the cumin and chilli were there, they were fighting a losing battle.

Not to worry though we had 2 more dishes to go, they arrived together and were bathed in the warm glow of the candle. Not knowing what to expect from the indonesian dish I prioritised that and dug through the coriander and crispy onions to find the meltingly soft pork and perfectly cooked potatoes all coated in a delicious, rich sauce. I carried on trying to pull out distinctive flavours but struggled to get much further than the fried onions and coriander. They added a lot to the dish (texture/flavour) but were used so liberally I couldn’t identify much more.

The Northerner started with the Veal and although I hadn’t mentioned it (and seem to be on my own in this thought) the idea of veal has always made me really sad. I’m a complete hypocrite as I will eat lamb till the cows come home but I never choose veal on a menu. Putting my emotion to one side I had a mouthful expecting beautifully tender meat and an acidic potato salad. The veal itself was wonderfully cooked and heavy in that indulgent way breadcrumb and fried food is, but the potato salad was a miss. It could have been the perfect foil with a bit of mustard, some more acidity and really shone next to the schnitzel but it was just claggy mayonnaise and overcooked potatoes. I squeezed as much out the lemon as is possible and after that was swallowed by the oil I gave up.

The hit and miss nature of the meal and limited dessert selection meant we decided to call it a night after the main dishes. I feel really conflicted in this review as I think Little Brick House has a beautiful soul and warmth at the heart of everything it does. I hope we just ordered badly or caught them on an off night as the city is definitely poorer without these glimmers of (candle) light.