Paneer and bloating on the Bearwood snack trail

For as long as I have been alive, Bearwood has been described as “up-and-coming”. Where exactly it is ascending from, and where it is arriving to, however, isn’t clear. 

Depending on who I talk to, this little neighbourhood either has airs-and-graces or is the shabbier version of Harborne that people move to before they can afford a B17 postcode. The former camp is mostly made up of people from other parts of the Black Country for whom Bearwood, sitting just west of the Birmingham border, barely counts as yam-yam. The rabble-rousing Sandwell Skidder blogger, Julian Saunders, once described the neighbourhood to me derisively as “the socialist republic of Sandwell”. 

On the other hand, there are those who see Bearwood’s potential — convenient for getting into town, lots of Victorian terraces with plenty of character — but find it a bit rough around the edges. My mom told me that when she and my dad moved to Birmingham from Malaysia in the mid-1980s, colleagues advised them that if they were going to buy a house in Bearwood, they ought to stick to the following guidelines: purchase on the west side of the Bearwood Road and don’t venture beyond the crossroads with the Bear Pub on it. New to the city and a little overwhelmed by these rules, they instead settled on Selly Oak, before moving to Harborne in 1991.

In the intervening 35 years, I’ve often heard that Bearwood is “on-the-up”. And while house prices have risen to  near-Stirchley levels — the standard-bearer for rapid gentrification in Birmingham — the two high streets differ significantly. One of my most vivid memories of Bearwood was waiting for a pizza from Luigi’s when an inebriated and vaguely aristocratic-sounding man waddled over and accused me of being a “hipster” gentrifier. I might have taken offence had my eyes not panned down to reveal his trousers were slipping down halfway towards his ankles and his… maybe use your imagination. Or don’t.

And yet, I won’t allow the occasional eye-sore to spoil my love of the place, or my appetite. What I can say for certain is that Bearwood has one massive thing going for it: the food. The area has some of the best places to eat and the most diverse range of cuisines within a one mile radius than anywhere I can think of. And because we don’t gatekeep at The Dispatch, I have compiled this highly subjective but essential guide to what I’m calling: the Bearwood snack trail. UNESCO, my dms are open if you want to talk.

1000 Trades On The park

Let’s kick things off with a potential argument-starter. Of all of the places on this list, 1000 Trades is the biggest sign that Bearwood might be getting that bit trendier. The original 1000 Trades pub in the Jewellery Quarter is a craft beer mecca, known for its casual dj sets, liberal-leaning political talks, and the questionable array of boomer rock n roll legends on the walls; like the National Portrait Gallery if it was curated by Bob Geldof. In 2024, its co-owners Jonathan Todd and John Stapleton added a second venue to the family: Bearwood’s Georgian, Grade II listed Lightwoods House. 

With its handsome, wood panelled bar and its floor-to-ceiling windows, this is prime real estate. The bar area looks right onto Lightwoods Park and there is even outdoor seating. The main menu at 1000 Trades OTP is a sit-in affair, but for snackers with a sweet tooth like me, their daily display of baked goods is where it’s at. Sitting variously under a glass cloche or in a see-through case on the bar, on any given day you can choose from giant glazed cinnamon swirls, currant-studded teacakes, or delicate looking strawberry tarts, all baked by the young barista Chiara Murphy. 

My most recent buy was a slice of light, moist carrot cake crowned with a neat splodge of tangy cream icing. There was a minute crunch of walnut within and, while more would have been welcome, eating it while strolling through the park in the sunshine was a delight. For £3, the price was on par with other, less plush eateries too.

Verdict: well worth it — take away and eat outside for an extra dopamine boost.

Oak Ca Phe

This family-run Vietnamese restaurant first opened in the spring of 2024 and is (I think) the only place serving south-east Asian food in Bearwood (do correct me in the comments if I'm wrong). On the menu? Modernised classics like papaya salad, summer rolls, and noodle soups, plus the real coup de grace: the coffee and cakes. While I recently enjoyed the apricot and pistachio cake made of citrus-drenched polenta and sprinkled with tiny rose petals, little could hold a candle to the gigantic cruffin, deep-filled with a glob of pistachio cream and topped with more pistachio icing and fresh raspberries, that I enjoyed last summer. On occasion I find myself slipping back through the vortex of my memory to that heady, happy day a la the curmudgeonly food critic in Ratatouille who is transported, Proust-like, into his childhood by the scent of stacked zucchini and aubergine. Or something like that. Pair it with a Vietnamese coffee.

Verdict: very tasty, especially if you like pistachios. 

Za’atar

Za'atar is a relative newcomer to Bearwood and is still finding its feet. The couple of times I’ve been in this Middle Eastern restaurant the staff seemed a bit surprised to see me. Which isn’t to say they don’t get many customers, they just aren’t entirely sure what to do with us when we come in. Part of the issue, I think, is that the front-of-house manager is stationed at a small desk at the back of the room. The chefs meanwhile are right at the front, dutifully working the shawarma counter, so there is often a bit of an awkward song-and-dance about whether or not you are eating in or taking away and who is responsible for taking your order. 

By now wise to these pitfalls, I make a beeline for Za’atar’s big, bold selling point: a giant domed furnace made of gold bricks. Items emerging from this beauty come under the menu heading “fresh from the golden oven” — and are a Za’atar staple that is especially good for vegetarians. On this occasion, I opt for two mini pizzas at £3 each: one with tomato sauce and vegetables, and another with cheese, olives and pesto. I usually cannot stand pesto on a pizza, it has no business being there, but in this case it works wonderfully. I also try a small pastry of folded over dough with a spinach filling that is moreish and ever-so-slightly bitter.

Verdict: solid — a strong baked goods game

Hi, Madeleine here. If, like me, you're enjoying reading about Kate's delicious Bearwood picks, you should consider joining our free mailing list. We're a new paper, focusing only on Birmingham and the West Midlands. There's no ads, no gimmicks, and no clickbait. Join us and you'll get two free stories landing straight into your inbox twice a week: a Monday Briefing (which is a perfect way to set yourself up for the week), and another in-depth long read like this one about the collapse of a West Midlands coffee kingdom. Sign up for free below - no card details required.

Sign up for free

Cody’s Italian Deli

Of all the places on this list, Cody’s is the most dangerous. It is sort of like the Bermuda triangle of Bearwood — but instead of entering into its orbit and disappearing from the face of the earth you actually come out 10lbs heavier. It is not uncommon to go into Cody’s to quickly grab one item and emerge with five, plus a full stomach to boot. My boyfriend once went in for a sandwich and didn’t come home for four hours — that’s not an exaggeration. And there is a very clear culprit encouraging this gluttony: he comes in the shape of an unassuming but cunning young server called Mirko Puddu.

Mirko’s trick is to engage you in friendly conversation while you are selecting your food, and to distract you with samples of antipasti: sour balsamic-soaked onions, mini scoops of creamy burrata or a salty slither of pastrami — just enough to put you under his spell. Then wham: he’s suggesting innovative combinations of fillings for your piadina — why not a third type of cheese? Would you like artichokes on that? Something for dessert? I just warmed these sugar-dusted, chocolate-and-hazelnut filled pastries that we import from Sicily — you have to try one.

In truth, a proper Italian deli is a bit of a rarity in Birmingham and the Black Country, so Mirko’s enthusiasm is not only welcome but contagious. Cody’s, which was opened in 2021 by husband and wife team Nicola and Cristina Codinotti, is the real deal. It is also incredibly good vibes in there, which might explain the disappearing boyfriend. On the snack front: I had a tasty mini portion of homemade aubergine parmigiana washed down with a lemon soda. On the house were two scoops of Calabrian ice cream: a smooth pistachio and a slightly icy but rich fig and nut. Plus, I was handed a Dispatch exclusive: the Codies are about to open a restaurant a few doors down in what used to be Serenity Cafe. On the menu will be authentic pasta and pizza as well as something of a curveball: English breakfasts. 

Verdict: Excellent, if a little pricey — but you get high quality produce for your money.

Brazil Portu

Back when my mom was house-hunting in Bearwood, to venture over the crossroads and past the Bear Pub was (at least according to the advice of her colleagues) to take your life into your own hands. That would only remain true now if you happened to be cripplingly allergic to an absolutely top-hole pastel del nata. Brazil Portu opened in 2019 and remains one of the few places in Birmingham and Sandwell to buy decent Brazilian and Portuguese products. 

As with Cody’s, many of them are imported so they can come at a cost — but for items you can’t buy anywhere else it is worth it. The spacious shop is crammed full of goodies: cabinets containing seafood and crispy tapioca bar snacks line an entire wall. In the middle are piles of store cupboard staples like jars of giant white beans, premium olives, sticky dulche de leche, and chocolate covered speculoos biscuits. A well-stocked butcher’s counter can be found at the back, leading to a small garden for summer dining.

But for on-the-go eating, you want the display cabinet at the front of the shop. Here can be found all manner of nibbles that would be at home in any boteco: there are rows of snacks like Coxinha — similar to an Italian arancino but shaped like a teardrop and filled with shredded meat, cheese and potato, coated in breadcrumbs and deep fried. It’s perfect for eating with a crisp pint of lager — as are most things, to be fair. My go-to is the simple pao de quejio: slightly crusty balls of dough dusted with a salty, parmesan-like coating that gives way to a squidgy, mellow cheese inside. If I had my way these would be served in pubs across the West Midlands.

Verdict: it is easy to get carried away in this shop but hone in on the specialities and you’ll be golden.

Sagar

Okay nearly there now! We’ve reached our final stop and I’m ready to collapse into a debilitating food coma. But first: Sagar. Unlike Brazilian delicatessens, Indian sweet shops are not hard to come by in Sandwell and everyone has their favourite. For me, it’s Sagar, partly because it was the closest one to me when I first moved to the area and lived nearer to Cape Hill. Here, there’s a smaller concentration of places to eat than up at the Hagley Road end of Bearwood and Sagar is one of the best. It has fuelled many impromptu house parties and brightened up plenty of stressed-out journeys home from work.

But the main reason I will happily evangelise about Sagar to anyone who is willing to listen, is because of one dish in particular. Yes, like all other sweet shops, they serve samosas — although these come with such a fluffy filling in a perfectly spiced and crispy shell that few others will match up to it. Yes, their array of curries from chana to moong dal to dal makhani are mouth-watering. But their paneer pakoras? I don’t know anywhere else that sells the snack that holds a candle to this. These aren’t dainty little slices of cottage cheese, they are big, hefty chunks sandwiched around a lining of mint sauce and coated in a light batter. With Sagar’s signature chilli sauce, I could eat them by the bagful. And at £10 per kilogram they are the cheapest snack featured here.

Verdict: the pakora speaks for itself — Sagar is an essential stop on the Bearwood snack trail.

If someone forwarded you this newsletter, click here to sign up to get quality local journalism in your inbox.