Once upon a time in Akbars

In days gone by Leed’s favourite son would have been a fine actor like Peter O’Toole or a legendary footballer such as Billy Bremner.  However lately it’s been pretty slim pickings, the crown could go to Mel B of Spice Girls fame, or Chris Moyles the Radio 1 DJ.  However would you really want to associate your city with a loud mouth ex pop star who just wants to tell you what she wants, what she really really wants? or disc jockey with a face for radio? My point exactly, so who could take on the mantle of Leeds favourite son?

Step forward Mr Shabir Hussain, the man behind Akbars Restaurant. 

Now if you haven’t heard of Akbars, you soon will, as it is fast becoming the highest profile indian restaurant chain in the country. Originally opened in Leeds in 1995 with a simple 28 seat restaurant it fast became the hottest ticket in town for fine indian cusine in the north of England renowned for its fabulous food and atmosphere. 

It has become such a success that it has branched out across the country with seven restaurants opening in as many years and there are now plans to open in London and as far as Milan.   Birmingham was one of the cities chosen by Shabir Hussain for a new Akbars restaurant and it opened its doors on the busy Hagley Road in the summer of 2009.  Taking a prime spot of what was formerly the Liberty’s nightclub, once one of Birmingham’s most popular nightlife venues. 

Today, other than the imposing grand entrance, there is no reminder or evidence of its hedonistic past. Rumours of a £2million makeover transformed the old sticky, beer sodden floors and tired seating into a sumptuous banqueting hall, decked out with rich, luxurious imported furnishings that ooze decadence.

A nice chill out bar allows you to have a drink first, before taking the long ramp to the dining area that seats at least 300 people with a private function area for a further 200.  Red chandeliers and shimmering glass light fittings hover over tables, while glittery curtains of glass sparkle at one side of the room. Flock wallpaper and cream leather benches dominate the surroundings.

Now since its opening, I must admit that I have been a frequent visitor, and have dined half a dozen times or so either as a couple or as part of a group.  I can tell you that Akbars is not a place for a quiet candlelit dinner for two on the weekend.  Friday and Saturday night dining can see you wait up to 45mins for a table, and being a 300 seat restaurant it can get pretty loud with lots of group parties.

The menu sees a large selection of traditional, vegetarian and seafood starters, then an even more detailed list of original baltis, veggie dishes and chef’s specialities. There’s also a variety of desi-apna delights, which are all cooked in traditional Punjabi style, in a thick rich dry sauce using green chillies, spices, lemon and fresh coriander.

For starters I went for the tried and trusted lamb chops and for the main course I chose the chicken and keema karahi.

The lamb chop starter was delicate and juicy, completely delicious and what was a nice touch was the side salad that accompanied it. No limp lettuce here – it was a fine mix of tomatoes, peppers, onion and olives in a tangy dressing.  The rest of the gang enjoyed masala fish and chicken tikka, both of which were beautifully presented and came with the same delightfully presented salad.

Along with the main, we ordered a plain naan, and what we had delivered to our table was the largest single piece of bread I’ve ever seen, and not only that, it was displayed on a huge stand that when placed on the table, shielding me from my friends sitting opposite.  I must add that it was more than enough for the four of us and the bread was fresh and soft.

The chicken and keema balti was cooked in a rich masala sauce, the right side of spicy and absolutely delightful. It wasn’t too heavy, and was wonderfully fresh.  My friends dined on chicken karahi, lamb balti and chana and paneer balti – chick peas and Indian cheese – and all agreed it was a fantastic fare. In a restaurant of this size it could be easy to let standards slip but the care and attention that went into the preparation of our meals meant it felt like we were the only people dining.

Now Akbars is not your ordinary indian restaurant, not content with singing happy birthday to any guest who was celebrating, their waiter/singer actually takes requests and puts even my own karaoke repertoire to shame.  Umar will sing any song from Shah Rukh Khan bollywood classics to Celine Dion’s titanic I kid you not. 

It really has to be seen and heard to be believed.  One minute you’re sampling the delight of a finely cooked shish kebab and the next you and 50 other guests are singing the chorus to George Michael’s Careless Whisper in a mass sing along.  It is truly astonishing entertainment in the most unlikely of settings, but all part of the experience.

I’­m pleased to say that Akbar’s Birmingham is a great night out that provides high quality cuisine and a vibrant atmosphere. 2 years on since first sampling the food, the question my friends still ask me every Saturday is “fancy going for an Akbar’s?”  I think that says it all. 


TanRockStar

ADDRESS
Akbar’s

181 Hagley Road, Edgbaston B16 9NY

Phone: 0121 452 1862

Fairy Haircut

    FROM THIS            TO                   THIS!

I walked into my regular hairdressers couple of weeks ago as I needed an urgent trim; my hair was a bit of a mess.  I had to attend a wedding later in the afternoon and didn’t really want to turn up and have my picture taken with the bride and groom looking like Lenny Kravitz’s long lost brother.

As I entered the reception area, I realised there was no Sandra, my regular hairdresser, quite possibly the one and only person I actually trust to touch my poor excuse for an afro.  Uh oh...  maybe she was on a break.  In the immortal words of Kylie Minogue, I should be so lucky.  As it turns out Sandra had left to go back to Italy and set up her own beauty shop. 

Oh how I wish I had a private jet to fly me to Florence for one last haircut by Sandra because who did I have here waiting to cut my hair, none other than Mike.   Mike and his manboobs to be more precise.  Oh the dread, the fear, I so should have walked out as soon as I knew my beloved Sandra was there no more. But I was powerless, already being hypnotised by his manboobs, being directed to the chair like I was about to have root canal treatment at the dentist.

All I wanted was the usual, but what did Mike know about my usual, he normally just winks at me and licks his lips as Sandra used to cut my hair.  So I explained to him that I just wanted a trim all over, nothing fancy, no colours, no tips, no experimenting.  Only a simple request to not cut my hair too short, ideally just a nice neat cut as I’m off to a wedding in the afternoon.

As Mike set to work, my fear became reality; I could feel his huge meatloafs being pressed against the back of my head on a regular basis.  At this point I would say he made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but I don’t think even my neck hair was brave enough to contemplate being molested by Mikes giant man nipples.  As he worked his way round to the front, a sense of fear took over as I imagined he would cut the top of my hair up close and I would practically be breast feeding. So I panicked and closed my eyes and tried to make conversation, oh and it had to be a manly conversation as anything short of this would not suffice. 

So the conversation ranged from my rip off BMW car service to England winning the 6 Nations Rugby.  Good strong bloke talk, this was more like it, I was now beginning to feel at ease, I mean we could have just been any 2 regular chaps chatting in the pub or down the local Indian having a chicken tikka masala.  Or so I thought, because at this point Mike chuckled and piped up that he fancied taking up rugby, especially the scrum part.  I had no comeback, I could only remain silent. 

It had been a good few minutes since I had closed my eyes so decided to have a quick peak, now I only opened my right eye for a quick blink and I'm pretty sure that Mike also had his eyes closed as he fingered my hair in what seemed very much like slow motion.  Right about now I needed Lee Harvey Oswald on a rooftop opposite to just take me out of my misery.

A full twenty five minutes later, Mike and his man boobs had finished.  As I opened my eyes to take a look, I was left stunned.  My eyes nearly filled up, my jaw dropped and a deep sigh was all I could manage.  I think a full minute passed before I could compose myself to say a word. Mike and his giant manboobs had decided to cut my hair with all the subtlety of a lumberjack with a chainsaw let loose in the Amazon rainforest.  I certainly don’t remember asking for a hair cut that would make me look like I was about to go join the navy (even if I do like the uniforms... oops thats for another post).

Do you want to know what Mike had done? well Jimi Hendrix to Kojak in 25 minutes, that’s what he had done.  I mean I could literally feel my scalp; you could so easily use my head to sand down some patio furniture before varnishing it to get it ready for the summer.

He then showed me a mirror to see the back of my head.  Yes, thank you Mike, the backs just as shit as the front.  Thank you for chopping off my curly locks and making me look like a prison inmate from Strangeways.  Definetley the look I wanted for the summer.

All I could think of and pray was that my hair would grow back.  You see at my age you don’t really want a haircut where the sun can bounce off your head and blind your partner unless she is wearing sunglasses.

I should mention that when I walked back into house, my 7 month old niece started crying as she didn't recognise me, I nearly broke down too.  Oh how I wish I tweaked Mike’s giant manboob nipples before leaving, though something tells me he may have enjoyed that.

Thankfully my hair has grown back and all is well again, well, until the next time of course.

Peace Love & Happiness 

TanRockStar