HALF the joy of going to Jack Greenall's house for dinner is you never know who you'll meet.

The way his Smoke & Thyme supper clubs work is, he puts an ad on his website saying he's cooking dinner on a certain night, and you book a place.

You usually have a decent idea of what he's going to serve – what you don't know is who you'll end up dining with.

Over the years at his events I've met a man who captains boats for Salter's Steamers, a guy who helped set up a national trampoline park business, an American who works in Formula One and an audiobook engineer.

What's different about Jack's latest run of events is that, where he previously hosted one-off nights with a set menu, this autumn he is, for the first time, doing a solid run of Thursday, Friday and Saturdays.

What's more, he now has a menu where you can choose from a small range of options which he says are the highlights from the past four years. There is even a wine/ beer flight to go with it all.

What hasn't changed is the quality of the company: the first couple we meet when we sit down in Jack's conservatory tonight with ten strangers are a dapper greengrocer called Ray, who runs a stall at Gloucester Green - and who Jack buys much of his fruit and veg from - and his partner Ellie, who runs a hair salon in Henley.

The conversation is sparked immediately when I tell Katie that I'm extremely tempted by the scallops for my starter but because I always get the scallops I feel I should have something different, and Ray leans over and says 'I just said the exact same thing'.

In the end I go for the baba ganoush with red peppers on blinis (£6.50) and Katie has the samphire pakoras (£5).

Mine is sweet, sticky and moreish while Katie's are crunchy, fragrant and surprising. Both are beautifully presented, so we do what all under-40s do now when their meal arrives – get out our phones.

A middle-aged gent on my right leans over and quietly confesses in my ear that he wouldn't know how to take a picture on his phone even if he wanted to.

Despite this, he reveals to us that Jack is actually offering a bonus free course with tonight's meal for anyone who shares a picture of their food on social media and tags Smoke & Thyme. This free course turns out to be a sort-of spicy tomato soup served in shot glasses which Ray describes neatly as a 'Bloody Mary without the vodka'.

For our main courses, I go for the leek & lobster tart (£13) and Katie has the ratatouille confit byaldi with homemade gnocchi (£12).

Mine arrives as a dainty pastry slice with a small garden of fresh salad leaves, but the plate also has some a mysterious golden paté which turns out to have an extremely pungent smokey flavour. When we and our neighbours are all completely stumped by the enigmatic flavour, a Spanish lady sat opposite asks a waitress who reveals this is homemade taramasalata, at which we all in union go 'Ohhhh!'

This is a treat I'm not sure I've ever had freshly-made in my life, and it perfectly complements the refined and more subtle marine flavours of the tart.

By the time we reach dessert, Ray and Ellie have to get off - they've got a room booked at the Randolph.

After bidding good-night we spark up conversation with the Spanish lady and her French husband, and with such continental companions, talk naturally turns to the future of international relations.

The husband confidently tells us that, in eight weeks time, the UK will have a general election (this prediction was made on Saturday, September 22) and a new Prime Minister will derail the entire Brexit process.

Thankfully the political talk did nothing to spoil our desserts, which turned out (as so often with Jack's dinners) to be the highlight of the night.

My salted caramel brownie (£5.50) comes served with a dollop of banana ice cream on top, and both elements do pretty much exactly what you'd want them to do – it's chewy, sticky, sweet, banana-y magic.

However when I stick a fork into Katie's Gorgonzola cheesecake with poached pear (£6.5) I am immediately struck with buyer's remorse: this, too, is sweet, smooth and sticky, but it's also got a surprising salty twist which I've not tasted in a cheesecake before, and I instantly knew I could have stuffed a whole cake in my mouth. Probably for the best, then, that Katie didn't let me have another bite.

It's also possibly for the best that our fellow guests all got off before I had a chance to boozily insist on getting their full names so I could add them on Facebook: like a great French wine you drink on holiday, some things are best enjoyed in the moment - you can't take them home - and so much of dinner at Jack's house you couldn't replicate anywhere else.

My recommendation – book a place while you can.