Telephone: 0121-455 0999
Address: 1 Montague Road, Birmingham
Rating: 16.5/20

Birmingham is not an easy environment for the visiting driver. Had it not been for the soothing presence of the deputy chief executive (who had demanded promotion from being mere "daughter"), who kept saying "Chill, Dad. It's not that bad", and the infinite patience of the charming French staff at Jessica's, who talked us in on the mobile phone, I would have self-combusted long before we actually arrived at Montague Road, a quiet street in Edgbaston.

Calm and cheer finally reasserted themselves as we settled down in the handsome conservatory dining room and my hands fell upon a glass of wine and a menu. There was a good deal about the menu to bring about a rapid reassessment of the world's possibilities - chilled cannelloni of Cornish crab, melon and cucumber with crab vinaigrette; ravioli of pumpkin, Parmesan with orange purée and coriander seeds; glazed belly pork with honey pistachios, shallot purée and confit carrots; monkfish with Indian spices, red lentil, cauliflower purée and coconut cream.

Several things strike me about those dishes. They have the stamp of ambition and confidence. There is a sense of individuality, but not to the extent of having me suck my teeth and think, "I'm not sure about that." Some suggest a certain delicacy, others seem much more full-on in their promised flavour range. There is an interesting use of fruit, a lightness of touch and a confident approach to combinations of ingredients. Perhaps this is not entirely unexpected, as the chef, Glynn Purnell, spent time in the kitchens of Claude Bosi, one of the stars of Ludlow, and of Simpson's in Kenilworth. The fruit is reminiscent of Bosi's style, the more robust elements maybe reflect that of Simpson's.

In the event, the DCE chose red mullet with green beans and Jerusalem artichoke foam and roast saddle of lamb with braised shoulder, potatoes and parsnip purée. My fancy was caught by smoked ham hock and beetroot terrine with confit beetroot and dill and lime cream, followed by loin of veal with a fricassée of squid, white beans, parsley and garlic.

I confess that one of the reasons I went for the veal was to see what possible symbiosis there could be between squid, veal and beans. And the answer was not very much. Veal is not a highly flavoured meat, and perhaps really fresh, highly caramelised squid would bring a certain meaty sweetness, but in this case the squid was more of a texture than a flavour, and so added little to the mild, gentle, soothing nature of the dish as a whole. Don't get me wrong - it gave me much pleasure - but it wasn't quite the revelation that the combination suggested it would be.

The other dishes may have been less outré, but, without exception, they hit the spot. The DCE's lamb was a tremendous combination, rich, rolling and resonant. The shoulder came as a fat puck that was crisp top and bottom and tenderly shredded between. Two thick slices of pink saddle lay beside it, with a firm tile of potato and cep to one side. The parsnip purée came in ultra-refined, sauce-like splashes about the plate, in the modern manner. It was a dish of the parts and the whole, and the whole met with wholehearted appreciation.

Rather to my surprise, because fish only recently entered my daughter's menu on a regular basis, she chose the mullet. Red mullet can be a challenging fish because it has a distinctive flavour (not wholly dissimilar to lamb, now I come to think of it). This was as pretty as it was good, a fine interplay between a select chunk of fish, firm beans and delicate, mushroomy sauce with a touch of sweetness to it.

For a moment I thought that the prettiness of my ham hock and beetroot terrine might outweigh the taste. It was a very sophisticated take on a very old combination, with flakes of ham set in a beetroot jelly. But then I tucked in, and while the earthiness of the vegetable and the smoky boom-boom of the ham had been civilised, they still had enough oomph and energy to make this a very tasty mouthful. My only, very gentle, complaint was that the dill and lime cream did not have the same degree of definition, though I could see it would have been a very good addition.

So we came to puddings, with caramelised pineapple and pink peppercorns with vanilla ice cream and chilled rice pudding; and hazelnut pannacotta, cinnamon ice cream and mulled fruit. The pannacotta must have been a misprint, because, while it was unquestionably panna-ish (ie, creamy), it wasn't remotely cotta (cooked). It was a mousse, plain and simple, or at least it tasted as if it was, and was none the worse for that - in fact, it was really rather good. It's just that pannacotta suggests something light and wobbly, while mousse is rich and creamy. The DCE whipped through her pineapple in double-quick time with every sound of relish.

Jessica's is a restaurant with ambitions, and heaven knows Birmingham needs one. It may have to boost its disappointing wine list to keep up with the standard of the cooking, but £29.50 for three courses of hummingly good food and effective, pleasant service makes it pretty good value no matter how long it takes you to find it.

· Open Lunch, Tues-Fri, 12.30-2pm; dinner, Mon-Sat, 6.30-10pm. Menus Dinner, £29.50 for three courses. Wheelchair access (no WC).