Locally sourced food was a main topic in my first restaurant review of 2012 and now — following a visit to The Clifden Arms, in Worminghall — the subject is going to feature prominently in my second.

The origin of almost all the ingredients that chef (and landlord) Matthew Butcher uses in his dishes is displayed for inspection on a blackboard in the area between the bar — where regulars quaff their real ales in an atmosphere of traditional and timeless ‘pubiness’ — and the pretty, bay-windowed restaurant, which many years ago functioned as the village bakery.

The suppliers named are mostly within easy striking distance of the pub, which is not, as you might think, in Oxfordshire but actually part of what former landlord Bob Spencer — the first free-trade owner of the place from 1990 — once described to me as the “hernia of Buckinghamshire”. This year, Matthew plans to get even more local, with vegetables and herbs grown on the premises, thus imitating Raymond Blanc’s famous garden at Le Manoir aux Quat’ Saisons.

Matthew gained invaluable experience during three years work for Raymond at Great Milton before becoming sous chef at The Bath Priory Hotel. A spell as head chef at the acclaimed Ston Easton Park in Somerset followed, after which he and wife Kate decided to strike out for themselves. In six months at the Clifden Arms, they have established a growing reputation among foodies of the area. This article, I trust, will lead to a still higher profile.

I paid my first (but surely not last) visit to the pub under its new regime on the New Year Bank Holiday. The day had dawned bright, with indications of its staying so. The moment seemed right for an open-top drive in our versatile Volvo — suitably wrapped up —through pretty countryside to what I had been advised by friends (thanks Val and Paul!) was likely to be a first-class lunch. Rosemarie, who had eaten there before, with work colleagues, proposed the jaunt, suggesting that the fun be shared with friends Paul and Drew.

So it was a four-strong group that headed through leafy Otmoor (following a brief, convivial pit-stop at the Talk House in Stanton St John) towards a table reserved in my name at 1.30pm. On arrival, having admired a couple of fine dogs tied up outside and negotiated an array of wellies, green and otherwise, on the doorstep, we were led straight to it from the bar, pints of Timothy Taylor’s Landlord bitter (£3.30) following in our wake for those drinking (not me today).

Copies of the daily-changing menu having been studied and our various selections ordered from Kate, we were soon happily at work with knives and forks. Actually, with a spoon in Rosemarie’s case, she having chosen to begin with cauliflower and truffle soup (£4.50) — smooth, creamy, packed with flavour. I know; I was invited to try it.

My own starter was a chunk of warm confit salmon, cleverly teamed with beetroot purée (and some beet in unpuréed form), small segments of orange and pea shoots (£6.50). Our other dishes likewise illustrated a happy combination of ingredients — Paul’s grilled Cornish sea bream with pieces of chorizo and lemon potatoes (£5), and Drew’s sautéed wild mushrooms, with thyme polenta and poached hen’s egg.

‘Hen’s egg’, by the way, is a menu description that slightly jars with me, the assumption being that an egg will always be from a hen unless stated otherwise. Further minor irritation followed when my main course of pot roasted pheasant (£13.50) arrived still in its blisteringly hot closed pot — from which I was expected to remove it.

An added problem was where to put the lid without leaving a ring on the table. On a napkin, I decided. But the dish was delicious, the locally-shot pheasant tasting as if it had been properly hung (for once), and in a rich juice with thin slices of chestnut. Boiled potatoes and brussels sprouts had been added to the pot before serving.

Rosemarie had ordered the house burger (£9) on her previous visit and judged it the equal of her local favourite offered at Quod in Oxford. Not surprising, then, that she went for it again, this time with added cheddar (£1). It came with tomato and mustard relish and deep-brown fat chips. The superb chips were also supplied with Paul’s juicy deep-fried haddock (£10.50) in a batter made with Doom Bar beer. Both these dishes can also be ordered in cheaper, starter-size portions, as can ham, egg and chips. Others are main course only, among them Drew’s much enjoyed seared duck breast, with roasted root vegetables and redcurrant sauce (£14.50).

He managed finally to find room for hot chocolate fondant (£5.50), the liquid-centred delight considered a Raymond Blanc signature dish. Doubtless Matthew would have cooked it at Le Manoir. It was made an even more scrumptious indulgence for Drew by the accompanying tiramisu ice cream. Paul had chocolate genache macaroons (£5), with a cranberry filling and white chocolate ‘soup’. Another hit.

As the meal ended, I was surprised to learn from Kate that it had not been prepared by Matthew. Giving himself a well-earned break after the Christmas and New Year rush, he had entrusted the kichen on this busy Bank Holiday lunchtime into the care of his new deputy Dido Medwin. It was her first shift in charge (though Matthew was there). That the substitution went unnoticed speaks volumes for her skill.