If the Grosvenor has a blue-blooded ring about it, that's because this landmark Chester black-and-white timbered Tudor-style Victorian hotel, maintained in tip-top, five-star fettle, is owned by Britain's richest man, the Duke of Westminster. The location is prime, within the city's Roman walls, overlooking the Eastgate Clock, and in walking distance of the racecourse for a blow-out after a bit of luck on the gee gees. Executive chef Simon Radley has been cooking at the Grosvenor, on and off, for over 20 years, and after a decade at the culinary helm, was rewarded with top billing when his name appeared over the door of its restaurant in 2008. It has long been established as a stellar dining destination, and under Radley's leadership, has shifted gears ever upwards to claim a solid place in the UK's Premier League of gastronomic experiences; every aspect, from the immaculate service to the jaw-dropping 1,000-bin wine list reinforces its status as the north west's premier fine dining venue. The pillared dining room doesn't go out of its way to make any overt style statements, preferring to soothe diners with plush cushioned chairs, crisp linen on the tables and a neutral palette: after all there's little point in vying for attention with what arrives on the plate. Menu descriptions make for a laconic, sometimes playful, but always intriguing read: 'Crown Prince' turns out to involve saddle of French rabbit with smoked bacon macaroni, winter squash and poached langoustine. It's clear from the off that this is assured, imaginative cooking, realised with a rare level of technical skill that unites complex combinations of flavour and texture to electrifying effect. Main courses could include cured and smoked Scottish halibut with cauliflower cream, Baeri caviar, poached oysters and Granny Smith apple, while Herdwick mutton might turn up as a dish of two halves: a fillet with onion and capers, and a 36-hour slow-cooked pudding with faggot gravy. Desserts also deconstruct classic ideas, such as 'lemon meringue' which is a study in what can be done with lemons, accompanied by tarragon jelly and sweet vacherins. This is one place where you really shouldn't pass on the cheese trolley either, as it groans beneath the weight of 30-odd superb examples kept in a perfect state of ripeness.