York’s blend of history, indelible charm and easy transport links understandably entices people back or even to settle permanently. Even superstar actor Gary Oldman has returned to his theatrical roots to re-tread the boards at York Theatre Royal in Samuel Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape.
As for staying true to gastronomic origins, local chef Tommy Banks is rightly proud of his Yorkshire upbringing, his family having owned farms in Oldstead for several generations. Apart from the occasional pop-up in the capital or appearing as a judge on Great British Menu, he has more or less stayed put. After the Banks family took over The Black Swan in 2006, and Tommy became its (mostly self-taught) head chef in 2013, it has retained a Michelin star for over a decade. Then followed his first cookery book ‘Roots’ in 2018 and a restaurant with the same name, a 10 minute stroll away from York station.
I’m not sure why it took me so long to visit Roots, given the aforementioned accessibility and my own affection for York; my timing seems to have been doubly crap as I was too early for Oldman’s run at the theatre by just a few weeks. But in such an uncertain market I’m extremely glad Roots is still open seven years later. Ditto Melton’s on York’s Scarcroft Road which has deliciously continued and evolved for 35 years but doesn’t seem to get much attention in the mainstream media (a pity because it’s lovely).
Banks’s head chef Will Lockwood and his team can seriously cook
Roots has certainly settled into a wonderful groove of its own. A little reminiscent of The Dysart in Petersham, the vestiges of its former life as a pub still remain but you’re left in no doubt that this is a high-end restaurant: coats are removed for you, table spacing is generous, the voluminous and reasonably-priced wine list is on an iPad, and there’s a blitzkrieg of information before you’re even breathing. My only gripe really was this overload of paperwork at the outset: there were four pieces of paper with different tasting menus and various drinks “packages” to peruse like a holiday brochure from the 90s. Then there was the iPad to navigate (intuitive but unwieldy), with only nanoseconds to make a decision, let alone order a martini (the ‘Sea Buckthorn Sunrise’ or ‘Jostaberry Sidecar’ not quite cutting it for me after a train ride).
I’m not saying there’s anything nefarious about this pre-sales stage – it’s not a Machiavellian practice like litigators who try to overwhelm their opposing counsel with a “document dump” hoping it will obscure a smoking gun – but it still creates friction, and I daresay stress, in the opening act of a meal. Of course you can read the sample menus on their website in advance, but like past exam papers they’re just samples and you can never be entirely sure what you’ll face on the day.
Just to get the nit-picking out of the way, said martini came ungarnished and was sadly too wet. But these initial minor disappointments were mere specks of dust on a grand canvas of loveliness. Banks’s head chef Will Lockwood and his team can seriously cook.
Scallop, celeriac, spruce
Lamb, morel, sheep’s yoghurt
Forced rhubarb, hay, rosemary
After amuses bouches of Oldstead charcuterie and beef tartare on toast (quite the meaty statement of intent – no light gougères here), Jerusalem artichoke and grains were served like a risotto, topped with an espuma of aged Killeen (a Gouda-style cheese from Ireland). On looks alone it reminded me of an English custard tart with nutmeg dusted over it but prosaic appearances are never what they seem. This was a fantastic starter, oozing with umami.
A supplementary scallop course for an additional £30 would make anyone pause to check their bank balance before ordering but this was truly sensational: the texture and caramelisation were impressive, while the celeriac base worked in harmony with the sweetness of the scallop.
Lamb, seasonal morels and sheep’s yoghurt was another carefully thought-through dish. The portion may have looked parsimonious but there was no short-changing in flavour, the dish all brought together by a heavenly, embarrassingly rich, lip-smacking jus. Three or four dishes in and no missteps.
As we all know, the best food sounds virtuous but tastes sinful. For dessert, the words on those bits of paper at the beginning promised “forced rhubarb, hay and rosemary” – words which seemed bland, even puritanical, but then came the revelation: a pink rhubarb quenelle with a piped custardy cream and some oats for texture. The colours evoked puddings of childhood, the rhubarb almost the hue of Angel Delight, but this was so much more sophisticated, showing not just the kitchen’s mastery of skill but also a sense of fun. That said, the bulky elderflower crumbly tart served with coffees could’ve been more delicate – perhaps smaller, bite-size tartlets to have as a ‘café gourmand’ would work better – but otherwise I couldn’t fault the pastry work.
At £95 for six courses (I’m not counting the sourdough as a course), excluding drinks and service, plus an extra £30 for that plump scallop, a meal here isn’t exactly like going to The Bay Horse for a pint of mild. (This is the cheapest option too; there’s a more gluttonous menu for £145.) You also have to pay an advance deposit to secure your table, so you’ll need the readies (nay even the Rennies). But for this level of refinement, where more indelible memories of York are created, and service is on point but not fawning, it seems relatively fair.
Being just two hours from King’s Cross I won’t leave it so long until the next visit. York’s residents continue to be very lucky to have Roots. And Mr Oldman, we may have been ships passing in the night, but in the extremely unlikely event you read this and want somewhere to eat on a day off from the play*, this is the place.
68 Marygate
York
YO30 7BH
May 2025
(*Krapp’s Last Tape is on at the York Theatre Royal until 17 May 2025)
