A reader emails to sing the praises of The Harcourt Arms at Stanton Harcourt, “a really nice old pub and restaurant”.

Bosses Jo and Derek Wilby “work their backsides off”, with a village shop and post office on the premises to add to their work load.

My correspondent, Steve, says he and a group of pals have been going there to eat two or three times a week for the past five or six years. At the most conservative estimate that means more than 500 meals. So when Steve adds “the food is first-class”, you might agree that he speaks with authority.

I have known the Harcourt for 35 years or more, since what I consider to have been its glory days under George and Cargie Dailey. I recall it, too, from the mid-1990s when Derek and Jo were putting in a first stint there working for then owners Timothy and Fiona Spittles, before leaving with them to run Bistro 35 in Witney. To my shame, though it is more than five years since the couple’s return, I was completely unaware of it.

Anyway, Steve’s recommendation to review could hardly be ignored. So the Saturday before last, Rosemarie, Olive and I decided to go there for dinner. The deserted state of the car park on arrival led me to the view that we were in for a quiet night. In fact, having pushed wide the door into the bar, we found ourselves part of an animated scene. Clearly here is a pub well used by locals who have no need to drive.

Jo invited us to make our menu selections in the bar, and pointed us towards a table in front of a log-burning stove whose warming waves could be felt throughout the room —and, indeed, beyond. Tio Pepe sherry was brought for me (too warm for my taste — I confess I asked for ice) while my companions enjoyed a first, citrussy taste of the Chilean sauvignon blanc.

The Harcourt’s is a varied and appealing, if not especially large menu. Mainly it offers favourites like pan-fried tiger prawns, cod and chips, burgers, steaks and lamb chops, but more unusual offerings include baked camembert studded with rosemary and garlic, and another ‘sharing plate’ of smoked salmon, prawns, mussels, rollmops, anchovies, pâté, goat’s cheese, peeling prawns and sunblush tomatoes.

I’d have gone for the last mentioned if I could have found anyone to share with. It sounded too substantial for me by myself. Instead, I went for the prawn, crab and salmon fishcake, one of a number of dishes that can be ordered in either regular or large size. I had regular which (with rocket salad and lemon mayonnaise) was quite sufficient as a starter, especially as Rosemarie was peeling and presenting me as I ate with generous quantities of her pint of prawns.

These were not very special, oddly tasteless and supplied with such flavour as they had by the accompanying Marie Rose dipping sauce. By contrast, Olive was delighted with her smooth duck and chicken liver pâté, not least for the piquant chutney that came with it.

It was good news, too, with the main courses. Mine was a decent-size whole lemon sole, served unfilleted with lemon and parsley butter and new potatoes. Rosemarie could not resist the smoked haddock and poached egg, which were served on mash with mornay sauce and a rocket and tomato salad. Her mother went for another ‘comfort food’ favourite, gammon and eggs. She thought it was fine, though the gammon looked a bit on the thin side to me. It came with good chips and a well-dressed salad.

I passed on pud, noting the satisfaction with which Rosemarie and Olive polished off, respectively, a classically constructed crème brûlée and a raspberry pavlova, with plenty of fruit and snow white meringue.

Service throughout the meal was polite and attentive. Appreciative remarks from those around us in the candlelit restaurant showed we were not alone in enjoying ourselves. There was a good chance, I suppose, that Steve was on one of his regular outings.

Perhaps I should have asked.