Summary (by AI): I was energized and impressed by my visit to Shababs in Birmingham's Balti Triangle, where I enjoyed an authentic lamb and chickpea balti despite a slightly nervous bike ride through the surrounding area.
Blog: Anyone who knows me well will know that I am completely obsessed with curry and Indian food in general. Because of that, there are two things about my curry journey that are quite strange.
First, I had never actually been to the Balti Triangle in Birmingham. I’ve had quite a few curries in Birmingham before, but never in the famous Balti Triangle itself. Secondly, I never really considered a balti to be a "proper" curry. I must admit, I had always looked at it as a bit of a marketing gimmick, simply because it’s served in those great big balti bowls.

To put this into context, you have to understand that I’m a man who buys all of his own spices and grinds them from fresh. I even have my own tandoori oven in the garden. I’m a serious Indian food cook.
But doing the research for ABC made me realize that balti is actually a lot more sophisticated than I’d been led to believe. It was invented back in 1977 by a Pakistani restaurant owner named Muhammad Arif. He specifically designed the balti to help drive up sales to, let's face it, white Brummies. He built the cooking style around a fast, stir-fry method. That's why it is cooked in the authentic balti bowl—which is a thin carbon steel bowl. The meat and spices are flash-fried incredibly quickly on high heat, which is completely different from a traditional, slow-cooked, ghee-based curry.
There are some other fascinating facts about it, too. A proper balti actually has half the fat of a standard curry because of that high-heat flash frying. It also has 25 times the iron content of a pint of Guinness, which I guess is either a very good thing or a very bad thing, depending on how you look at it! Learning all of this made me resolve to start cooking much more authentic baltis at home.
But first, I needed to experience the real thing.

As I mentioned, I’d never been to the Balti Triangle. Unfortunately, it turns out the area is a bit of a shadow of its former self. I was staying in the center of Birmingham, and the Balti Triangle is about two or three miles southeast of the city center. I looked into how to get down there, but there wasn't an obvious tram or train route. I could have taken a bus, but it seemed a bit of a hassle, and then I noticed there were some Lime bikes available nearby. So, I grabbed a Lime bike and set off.
Oh my god, it was quite an interesting ride. The route literally took me straight through some of the housing estates that run in rings around the center of Birmingham. Let’s just say I was a little nervous at times. I was cycling through the middle of these estates, which were sadly very run down. There were youths standing on the corners in black hoodies, all staring at me as I rode through. My adrenaline was definitely pumping!
But I made it. I arrived safely at Shababs, which is one of the real standard-bearers of the Balti Triangle today. They work hard to guard the heritage of the balti by sticking strictly to those original 1970s cooking methods.
It was interesting to observe the crowd. Even though the surrounding area is very Pakistani and Indian, I got to the restaurant quite early—around 6:00 or 6:30 PM—and there was already a steady stream of white Brummies coming through the door. Shababs is clearly still doing the right thing, and the market for it is definitely still there.
I had a great curry: a lamb and chickpea balti, served with a nice, massive naan. I didn't have any beer with it because they don't serve alcohol, and the nearest BYOB off-license was a ten-minute walk away. After the cycle ride over, I decided to skip the walk and just got an Uber back into town afterward.

Overall, it was a brilliant experience. It’s completely energized me to find out even more about the genuine balti and start practicing the technique at home.
STOP PRESS: This category is called Jalfrezi, as I wanted to use C for Camping, and I for Industrial….And I quite liked the idea of J for “Cuzza”. Its also one of my favourite curries. And me and my brother will regularly send each other photos of menus with different version of how Jalfrezi is spelt - it amuses us.
Jhal Frezi; Jafrezi; Jalfrezi; Jhalfrezi; Zalfrayzi; Jhal Frezi; Jal Frezi; Jhalfrazi; Jalfrezy
So it was good to see that Shababs could add a new entry to that list, as you will see from the photo above: JALFRAZEES - Brilliant
The Map: