The NottsRocks Food Chronicles: A Culinary Journey Through Nottingham's Finest

You know there's around 300 bars and restaurants in Nottingham, and about 30 odd pubs.

We've reviewed a good handful but still have a bucket load on our list to hit. Yes, we have our favourites, mostly because we are lazy and sometimes struggle to make it out of our comfort zone which is The Village (or newly named Rainbow Quarter, or Hockley, Lace Market to you). Sometimes we'll venture up to Trinity Square, or even to The Poacher on Mansfield Road. We once went to Beeston. It's just once we get settled, it's hard to move us far. But we've made a promise to ourselves to get out and about more to get more reviews in, 'cause we like to eat and drink like the rest of the human race.

The Three Amigos Hit the Streets

Most of our culinary adventures begin the same way: three blokes meeting up, usually starting with "a few warming drinks at the Lord Roberts," before the inevitable question arises, where shall we eat?

It's a democratic process, though democracy often gives way to laziness when the vino sets in. "Call it laziness if you will," as we've admitted more than once, but there's something comforting about staying close to home in the village.

Take one of our Tuesday night expeditions to Bar Iberico, where philosophy meets fine dining in the heart of Hockley. We'd already been deep into animated debates about Aristotle's insights on how democracies cycle through phases until they exhaust themselves into authoritarianism. "No prizes for guessing what inspired that particular conversation," we noted, given recent events across the big pond. When our patient waiter finally found a natural pause in our philosophical discourse, we made the executive decision that would define our dining philosophy: "We'll have the first 8 plates from the tapas menu please."

What followed was a masterclass in Spanish cuisine. The Lamb Morunos Pinchos with Chermoula deserved special mention "Moorish spears" with vibrant marinade that had us reaching for extra bread to soak up every last drop of sauce. The pork belly proved so impressive it prompted Andy's memorable declaration: "That would be my dish on death row." This naturally led to the inevitable question, "Why would you be on death row in the first place?", followed by much laughter.

Solo Adventures and Mexican Fiestas

Sometimes the three amigos become one, and that's when the real food discoveries happen. My solo mission to Taquero on Heathcote Street became a testament to the power of positive thinking and mariachi-band-inducing pickles. Standing at the crossroads of Broad Street, Stony Street, Carlton Street and Goose Gate, I spotted Dan Lindsay and Jacque Ferreira's latest brainchild, a Mexican restaurant that had been perpetually busy every time I'd walked past.

"I'm a walk-in, any chance of a table?" became my opening gambit, and somehow the universe conspired to find me that lonely table meant for two but clearly destined for one hungry food critic.

The Pickles Fritos changed everything. Picture this: what looked like savoury churros but turned out to be deep-fried dill pickles with Tajin, chipotle mayo, onions and coriander. One bite and I nearly fell off my chair (though that would have been difficult as I was sat on a leather banquette). "What The Actual Fuck," I shouted in my head, a Mexican fiesta exploded in my mouth. The tangy dill pickles took up trumpets, the Tajin powered in on a guitarrón, and suddenly I had a full culinary mariachi ensemble playing ranchera, son de mariachi, huapango de mariachi, polka and corrido all at once.

My entrepreneurial side started plotting food stalls and trucks just selling this dish (don't tell Dan or Jacque though). Who knew a dill pickle could raise a full mariachi band and throw a fiesta in your mouth?

When Music Meets Curry

Some of our best discoveries happen when worlds collide. Take Lagan in Beeston (yes this is when I ventured to Beeston) where Indian tapas meets live music in the most unexpectedly perfect way. I'd ventured beyond the city boundary to catch up with a mate, Jimi Strange of Jimi and The Strangers, who happened to be performing there.

The hot chilli fish rivalled Anoki's version on Barkergate, with that perfect piquant sauce complementing the tender cod that melted away. But it was the combination of excellent food and acoustic performances that made this special. Between sets, my usual dining companions messaged, questioning the concept of live music in an Indian restaurant. I sent them a quick video of nodding diners enjoying their Malai Tikka and Paneer Ka Sholay, trust me, it works.

As Jimi treated us to a special guitar version of the 6-minute opus "Looking Back," my Jalfrezi arrived mid-performance, a proper spice-laden dish with satisfying heat. Sometimes the best evenings are the ones you don't plan.

Hidden Gems and Food Crushes

If Jay Rayner, with his majestic moustache and penchant for fine dining, ever graces Nottingham again, he needs to take a detour to Paaji's at The Kean's Head. This hidden gem in the Lace Market serves up Indian street food that would make any food critic weak at the knees.

The Amritsari Fish Pakora alone deserves a sonnet, golden morsels marinated in lime, ginger, garlic, and flavoured with turmeric, cardamom, and fenugreek. Every bite was a celebration of Indian street food, a riot of magic on the palate. And yes, I may have been making a few happy noises along the way (grunts, my partner would clarify).

The Bang Bang chicken, spiced, deep-fried, and glazed with their signature garlic chilli sauce, disappeared so fast I considered ordering another plate just to slow down and savour it properly. But when John, the ever-gracious manager, reappeared with that expectant look, all I could mumble was "Delicious" whilst savouring every last lingering taste.

The Spice Route Through Nottingham

Our relationship with Mowgli has been a love affair punctuated by memory lapses. The first time we visited, the food and wine took over, and we forgot to take any pictures or make notes. Instead, the night dissolved into talk of Man Utd, Forest, music, and the usual banter that happens when three lads get together.

Determined to do better, we returned on a Monday night, craving spice as the seasonal change kicked in. The Angry Bird, succulent chicken thighs marinated in tandoor spices, balanced beautifully with the cool slaw, while the Mowgli House Lamb, a family recipe with slow-simmered lamb, anise, plums, and chickpeas, was melt-in-your-mouth tender.

The real genius? When the waiter appeared with off-the-menu chilli oil, letting us dial up the heat without compromising the delicate balance of spices. That's the mark of a kitchen that understands its craft.

Family Affairs and Comfort Food

Not every review involves philosophical debates and mariachi explosions. Sometimes it's about finding places that work for the whole family. Piccolino proved its worth when my son, the world's fussiest eater, convinced the chef to make him a simple ham and pepperoni pizza that wasn't even on the menu. The chef not only obliged but invited him to take a closer look at the open kitchen, a touch of hospitality that goes beyond the food.

My 28-day-aged Angus and Hereford Argentinian ribeye, cooked medium to well ("yes, I know, don't judge, it's how I like it!"), came with truffle & Pecorino fries that disappeared almost as quickly as the oysters we'd started with. Sometimes the best meals are the ones where everyone leaves happy and full.

The Village Philosophy

Despite our grand promises to venture further afield, we keep coming back to what we've dubbed "The Village" that magical triangle of streets where Broad Street, Stony Street, Carlton Street and Goose Gate meet. It's where spontaneous Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday nights turn into memorable meals, where walk-ins are welcomed with warm smiles, and where the phrase "Oh well, let's see if we can do a walk-in" has become our unofficial motto.

There's something to be said for knowing your neighbourhood, for having that local where you can debate democracy while demolishing tapas, or where you can catch up with old friends over Indian street food while live music plays in the background. We've marked out the village boundaries (probably on some hacked Facebook account we'll never recover), and whilst the name hasn't stuck with the Broadway and Hockley massive, we'll keep calling it 'the village' in our heads as we make the conscious effort to now call it The Rainbow Quarter.

The Bottom Line

In a city with 300 bars and restaurants, we've barely scratched the surface. From philosophical dinners at Bar Iberico to mariachi moments at Taquero, from musical curry nights in Beeston to hidden gems in the Lace Market, Nottingham's food scene continues to surprise and delight.

The beauty of food reviewing isn't just about the dishes, it's about the conversations, the company, and those moments when a spontaneous evening turns into something memorable. Whether you're seeking philosophical discourse over Spanish tapas, mariachi-inducing Mexican street food, or simply a place where the chef will make your fussy child exactly what they want, this city delivers.

Our promise to ourselves remains: get out and about more, try new places, venture beyond our comfort zone. But until then, if you need us, we'll probably be somewhere in The Village (Sorry The Rainbow Quarter), probably starting with "a few warming drinks at the Lord Roberts," probably asking that eternal question: "Where shall we eat?"

After all, we like to eat and drink like the rest of the human race. We just happen to write about it afterwards.

For more food adventures and cultural musings, keep an eye on NottsRocks – because Notts does Rock, especially its hospitality scene.

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Words and Images by Lee