Restaurant review – Legacy at The Grand York

By Roger Crow

Forget whiskers on kittens and bright copper kettles. If I had to choose some of my favourite things, it would be food, art and beautiful surroundings. Or to put it another way, the good old tasting menu. Obviously it’s saved for special occasions, but those rare, mouthwatering events are all the more precious – when done right.

I’ve had a soft spot for The Grand York since my first visit in January 2017 when I ate like a king. Even cooking on their premises in 2020 was one of my fondest memories of the past few years. All of which preamble brings us full circle to a rain-lashed night in late November. 

It’s one of the busiest weeks of the year and all Team Crow want to do is crash out in front of game shows and jungle-based escapism. But the offer to try Legacy, a fine dining experience at The Grand, has been on the cards for weeks now, and after much juggling of schedules, this is THE night. 

Legacy is like that wardrobe in a Lion and Witch-related literary classic: step through those elegant doors, and you’re transported to another dimension.

And so it begins. The room is relatively small, beautifully furnished and intimate. It has as many covers as Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s debut album, and it’s not long before we start to relax in the ultimate pleasure dome… okay room.

Elegant decor, terrific choice of non-invasive music, splendid, attentive service from Alex, who introduces alternate dishes with care and a glint in her eye, which suggests: ‘Wait until you try this!’

Then there’s Derek Scaife, Restaurant Manager and a sommelier like no other. His knowledge of wines is vast and seemingly infinite. I hope that knowledge will be absorbed like osmosis as I take a sip of this and that, but the riches of his paired wines are mostly enjoyed by Rachel, who is not a big wine drinker, though paroxysms of delight wash over her face at each new glass convey the wonders within. And like any wine-lover knows, when it comes to unlocking waves of new flavours in your food, the right tipple can be the perfect key.

The Zuccardi Valles – a fortified Malbec from Argentina – is especially good, partly because of the vibrant plum and raspberry flavours, but mainly because it ticks that dessert wine box that anyone with a sweet tooth will love. 

Not that I feel left out, enjoying a non-alcoholic mojito with one course and later the most delicious fruit punch. 

And oh those courses, starting with warm, perfectly formed salty Parkerhouse rolls, infused with butter, like brioche. Slathered in more expertly crafted cultured and goats herb butters, it’s like an angel weeping on your tongue. 

It’s a Paul Hollywood handshake in bread form on the most elegant plates. And that’s just the bread for heaven’s sake.

What follows is an array of breathtaking, palate-pleasing dishes, each one a riot of delicate flavours. The roof of my mouth usually feels like it’s been sandpapered after some dishes in other restaurants, but throughout the night it’s mercifully pampered. 

The Jerusalem artichoke with Wensleydale and parsley root is proof of how tasty veg can be if treated with care. The hand-dived Orkney scallops with smoked eel and verjus did set my alarm bells ringing when I saw it on the menu, but like every dish, it’s a delight on the tongue.

Celeriac with black garlic and truffle is a joy, as is the halibut with cauliflower with mousseline sauce. And the bite-sized portions means there’s none of that bloated feeling. Just perfectly paced taste sensations, which is the sort of tongue-twister worth trying after a few glasses of perfectly chosen wine. As for the venison with blackberry and lapsing smoked haunch, the meat is so tender, it almost melts on the tongue. 

As an amuse-bouche for the final course, spiced plum with gingerbread and earl grey would not be my first choice of dish, but that intense flavour is incredible. Plum? Spiced? To paraphrase Peter Kay, it’s a taste sensation.

I finish with grand honey, which has been harvested from The Grand’s own beehive on the roof. With yuzu and elderflower, it the perfect end to the most outstanding meal, not least because of a delicate honeycomb wafer which looks like it’s been 3D printed. 

Now if there’s one keyword about life in 2022, it’s inclusivity. Every element of society rightly wants to be respected, and the much-maligned vegetarian has long been sold short by some of the greatest restaurants. As great as London’s Boxwood Cafe tasting menu was for me in 2008, their veggie dishes left a lot to be desired back then. 

So Rachel, who has been with me on most of the six-year culinary odyssey is in no doubt this is THE best restaurant for the array of perfectly prepared veggie dishes, and, most importantly, that feeling of not being an afterthought; the chef making do with yet another risotto (the default dish for cooks who have little imagination). Take a bow Head Chef Ahmed Abdalla for going the extra mile. 

Her variations, including beetroot ravioli with candy beet and ribblesdale goats cheese, and butternut squash with spiced lentils and cashew crumb, are a delight. 

There is a problem with every dish: they are so beautifully presented, it seems a crime to eat them. Take photos, yes. Frame them in an airtight container, maybe, but even the oyster on a platform of ice looks like it belongs in the Tate. And oh the oyster. Can’t say I have a lot of them, but this is out of this world with a malt vinegar chaser enhancing the flavour. 

The evening flies by. We sit down at 7pm and it’s 10.30pm by the time we wrap things up with perfect cappuccinos and espressos. Oh, and the most exquisite madeleines, pastilles and marshmallow. 

Ahmed and his team have done a PHENOMENAL job of catering for one of Yorkshire’s fussiest vegetarians, while my jaded palate has woken up again after months of hit-and-miss dishes. Food should be this diverse, exciting and beautiful, and the fact it’s at one of the UK’s greatest hotels is such a bonus. 

So, after several years of restaurant reviews, pondering which is the greatest for both of us, there is a new joint winner; the top of the tree in terms of choice, flavour, presentation and above all, that attention to under-represented vegetarians. 

Thanks Ahmed and Alex. Cheers Derek. And thank you The Grand York. What a Legacy. 

Aptly named as it’s something we’ll never forget. 

Film Review-Claydream

Directed by Marq Evans

Certificate 12

By Roger Crow

For a generation weaned on the likes of Morph, Wallace and Gromit, and Aardman Animations, clay animation feels very British.

However, while the likes of Nick Park and Peter Lord were honing their skills in the UK, Will Vinton was crafting phenomal shorts, films and adverts across the Pond. 

The synopsis for new documentary Claydream calls it a “fascinating and hugely entertaining look at the life and career of pioneering animator Will Vinton” and how “youthful ambition in freewheeling 1960s Portland comes face-to-face with the corporate behemoth.” Which is completely on the money. It’s also a study of an animation genius who wants to be the next Walt Disney, as well as a warning for anyone who goes into business with a major company.

Oregon-based Vinton won an Oscar in 1974 as one of the brains behind an animation about a drunken protagonist, and looked set for a glittering career. He made the first full-length claymation feature film; collaborated with Hollywood megastars like Michael Jackson and Eddie Murphy, and set up a huge studio employing over 300 animators. 

However, he hadn’t reckoned on death threats from a former friend, claymation falling out of fashion, and business deals that would see him lose everything.

Circa 1989, I saw the aforementioned animated feature about Mark Twain, and was blown away by the quality of the animation. I did wonder why nobody else was raving about it, and why it’s never on TV. Thankfully for Will, his adverts for California Raisins were hugely successful in an age before CG ‘toons were all the rage. 

Alas, legalities surrounding the Raisins meant Vinton lost out on a fortune. And when he was offered a deal regarding shares for a little company called Pixar, he turned them down.

Obviously not a wise choice with the benefit of hindsight. The fact Steve Jobs was funding a chunk of that company meant Vinton needed his own financial parachute in the form of a tycoon responsible for a major sports company. 

When the big cheese’s rapper son (interviewed by The Word’s Terry Christian at one point) is taken on by Vinton’s company, he has no idea how things will play out. (The look on the rapper-turned-animator’s face is priceless as he silently responds to a Vinton put-down during a legal hearing). 

I’ll not reveal too much here, but as shocking as some of the results are, it’s also fascinating to see how one company morphs into another. And it’s not the absolute disaster I’d feared. 

Having gone into Claydream thinking it was going to be a gushing tribute to an unsung legend of animation, it turned out to be so much more. 

The less you know about Vinton and what happened to his business the better. I do know he deserved far more respect, as did many of the disgruntled animators who worked with him, but that’s the nature of the business, as the countless unsung workers at Disney proved over the decades. 

As someone who’s loved clay animation for years, I’d say this is one of the best documentaries of the year. It’s a brilliant warning for anyone in the same field: watch your back, because even if you create a company and think you’re king of that castle, the very person you go into business with could be the one who kicks you out. 

Direction 8

Editing 8

Rewatchability 9

Film Review – Dear Elizabeth

Starring Tony Hale, Paul Walter Hauser, Danielle Brooks

Directed by Scott Abramovitch

By Roger Crow

The phrase ‘quirky indie comedy’ is over used, but this new offering fits the bill admirably.

Tony Hale plays Sid, an everyday guy whose life takes a massive tumble when he tries to get in touch with an old classmate, who also happens to be international star Elizabeth Banks.

He’s got a big heart, but doesn’t really understand how social media works, so when he keeps writing to Ms Banks on Facebook, he thinks it’s a two-way conversation rather than a series of random message the whole world can see.

Inevitably her people file a restraining order, which means he gets banned from the school reunion she may or may not attend.

In an attempt to attend said reunion, he must fight the case, and all he can afford is a legal eagle who isn’t really a lawyer yet.

Having won the Best Comedy Award at San Diego International Film Festival, this is not the worst comedy you’ll see all year, but by the end you will wonder if that’s all there is. And what was in competition at said festival?

Hale, who some will know from Arrested Development, is a likeable mix of Pee Wee Herman and The 40 Year Old Virgin, while Elisha Cuthbert barely seems to have aged since her ‘24’ days. She plays Sid’s snarky, pregnant sister-in-law, who does an about face at the end, which may be down to a plot development, or just the rules of a good old redemption story.

The hapless lawyer gets far too much screen time in the third act, and the usual tropes of a school reunion restoring the balance of the hero’s life doesn’t really work. See Grosse Pointe Blank for a better example.

The inevitable pay-off over the closing titles is okay, but by then it’s all a little too twee to have an effect. It’s charming enough, and just the right duration, but by the end you may have wished for more.

Cast 7

Script 7

Editing 8

Direction 8

Cinematography 8

Rewatchability 3

Film Review-Reservoir Dogs (1992)

Starring Harvey Keitel, Tim Roth, Steve Buscemi

Directed by Quentin Tarantino

By Roger Crow

Hard to believe it’s 30 years since Quentin Tarantino’s debut feature took the world by storm and transformed a bunch of jobbing actors into A-list stars. Okay, Harvey Keitel, one of the key men responsible for it seeing the light of day, was already a cult star, but Londoner Tim Roth had yet to make his mark in Hollywood, and Steve Buscemi was a barrel of fast-talking dynamite with a short fuse waiting to be lit. Then there was Michael Madsen, whose Elvis-style cool made his psychopath role all the more chilling. Chris Penn may have made his mark in Footloose years earlier, but this was his finest moment. Populating the rest of his cast with seasoned characters like Lawrence Tierney and Eddie Bunker, Res Dogs, as it’s known in a supporting feature on the new HD version, may owe a debt to Ringo Lam’s City On Fire, but it’s still very much its own beast.

Michael Madsen at his best or worst…

The classic tale of a heist gone wrong and a band of crims trying to find out who ratted them out to the cops may be nothing new, but writer Tarantino ensures these usually generic characters have depth. They have random theories about Madonna songs; why they should or shouldn’t tip waitresses, and reflect on TV shows and films. Hollywood bosses usually trim all that screenplay fat, so Tab A fits into Slot B as fast as possible. But we don’t always want streamlined stories. The rough edges are what makes movies really work; a sense of realism where accidents do happen, and characters feel more genuine than avatars.

Res Dogs is not a nice movie, a fact all the more noticeable in an age of ‘snowflakery’ and ‘wokery’, or whatever this week’s buzzword is for political correctness. Those wanting a vegan ham-style movie may want to avoid as this is a cinematic slab of red meat dripping hi-def blood. 

Following that opener, and one of the coolest cast introductions set to Little Green Bag, QT wisely dispenses with his own services as an actor, and focuses on the really good stuff. Roth’s character Mr Orange bleeding to death on the back seat of a car while Keitel’s Mr White tries to reassure him he’ll be okay. In HD that blood is almost luminous, giving it a comic book-style quality. 

Tarantino may have borrowed from Brian De Palma’s Casualties of War for this scene, but like all great artists, he steals from the best and usually improves on everything. 

Once back at a warehouse, the bond between the two fugitives is touching; far more moving than most generic gangster movies that had come before. The subtext, ‘honour amongst thieves’ taps into that code we all want to live by: do the right thing in extreme circumstances. (It’s the same code which helped make Dexter one of the best crime sagas of the past 15-plus years). 

By the time Buscemi’s Mr Pink shows up at the warehouse, he unloads the sort of quick-fire patter that has made his name as one of Tinseltown’s best actors. Little wonder he was snapped up for the likes of Things To Do in Denver When You’re Dead, and Armageddon. Intercut with the ‘now’ is what came before, the background to these ne’er do wells, including Chris Penn’s Nice Guy Eddie, a part which would be played by Jonah Hill these days if anyone dared remake Dogs. 

And in the background there’s Steven Wright as DJ K-Billy, whose Supersounds of the Seventies is a dream radio station. Wright at this point had been a cult comedian given a platform on BBC2 comedy chat shows, dispensing brilliant one-liners like, “It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to paint it,” and “I was once involved in a speed-reading accident.” (I can still recall the gap as the studio audience took a few seconds to catch up). 

Of course mention Res Dogs to most people and that ear-slicing/tortured cop scene comes to mind. Married with Stealers’ Wheel’s Stuck in the Middle with You, it’s one of the most brilliant moments of cinematic terror in decades, and all the more horrific because Tarantino tracks left so you don’t see the deed, but boy, can you imagine it.

The third act which follows I’ll not spoil in case you are a newcomer, but I’d forgotten so much of the background to one key character that it felt like a fresh movie. In fact I’d played that soundtrack on a loop back in the day, and probably only saw the movie a couple of times. 

There are far too many derogatory expletives for me, dropped in with casual abandon, but then again we aren’t supposed to like these anti heroes, yet we do. Nearly all of them are brutal, sweary, violent, money-grabbing hoods, but that dialogue, score and locked-off cameras let us observe their lives; it makes us feel complicit in their crime, even the ones we don’t see. 

Yes, there are times Res Dogs is a horrible movie, but it’s also utterly compelling and a brilliant debut from a film-maker who rarely ever dropped the ball since. While some writer/directors go off the boil, I’d say Quentin keeps getting better, as the masterpiece Once Upon a Time in Hollywood proved.

Picture and sound quality on the latest HD release is excellent, and far better than many of us may remember as we watched a dodgy copy 30 years ago. The movie had been released at the Sundance Film Festival in 1992, but took another year to hit UK cinemas, and then a media storm about movie violence corrupting the masses kicked off, like it had a decade earlier. 

It’s perhaps 15-20 years since I last saw the movie, and can’t say I’m desperate to see it again in a hurry, as clever as it is. Newcomers will be fascinated, and there’s obviously a retro appeal for some, like me, who recall seeing it years ago, but it’s a pretty nasty piece of work for all its brilliant flourishes.

Screenplay 9

Editing 8

Soundtrack 9

Cast 8

Rewatchability 5