Where to go for a quiet lunch when Oxford is buzzing with wall-to-wall tourists, most of them teenage language school students? Years ago, in the days when publishers were awash with expense accounts, I remember meeting authors at the Randolph Hotel, in a comfy sitting room which was a haven of peace and quiet in the busy city, and being presented with a plate of assorted sandwiches. Even in those days, publishers were not all that flush, so I imagined that this wouldn't break the bank, even in a grand hotel.

Can one still do this? The answer is yes, more or less. I boldly walked in through the doors of what is now Oxford's only five-star hotel, to find my guest already there, sipping an orange juice in the bar. He seemed very comfortable, but the venue was all wrong. Where was the elegant, vanished Oxford, I was seeking?

It was still there, around the corner, in what is now called The Lounge, but I remember as the Osbert Lancaster room - a term now, apparently, applied to one of the conference rooms elsewhere in the hotel. We soon learnt how the Randolph has gained its fifth star, as the helpful barperson quickly returned with a tray for the orange juice, and accompanied us to our lunchspot.

It was almost as I remembered it - perhaps a few less armchairs, but more sofas, and more small tables and dining chairs arranged casually, almost all containing clean, empty teapots - this was just before one o'clock. Surrounding us were pictures by Sir Osbert Lancaster depicting scenes from Max Beerbohm's only novel, Zuleika Dobson, a satire published in 1911. The book - and the pictures - track the progress of Zuleika in Oxford. She is so beautiful that even the bearded stone emperors outside the Sheldonian sweat as she passes by in a landau. As for the undergraduates who see her during Eights Week, they all commit mass suicide by jumping in the river.

My companion wasn't really interested in the pictures - his eye was caught by the pile of newspapers laid out on a grand piano. You could have any newspaper you wanted, as long as it was the Daily Telegraph. While he amused himself by reading the letters page - "are they serious, are there really still people like this?" - I checked the 'lounge' menu.The relaxed atmosphere did not extend to the service, since a waitress appeared very quickly. We ordered more orange juice, since it came freshly squeezed.

The selection of sandwiches appeared under 'Afternoon Tea' and came with scones and cakes as well as tea, for £17.95. We decided we would be better off with individual sandwiches, which were £7 to £8 each. All the old favourites were on offer - cheese and pickle, ham and mustard, beef and horseradish, prawn, and tuna mayo - as well as a small selection of wraps and baguettes.

My companion upped the ante by opting for a 21-day aged prime Scottish steak ciabatta, so I plumped for salad nicoise. As we sipped our drinks, I looked around, admiring the wood panelling, ornate fireplace and ceiling. There were only a handful of other guests and I gradually started to feel a little self-conscious. It was certainly quiet - but was it too quiet? Fortunately, at that moment, a man came in, to be loudly greeted from the corner sofa by his wife.

"Have you been waiting long?"

"No, I've been in Borders. Have you seen it? It's enormous - almost as big as Blackwell's."

Former university people returning for a nostalgic trip? So far, so traditional. Very soon our attention was taken up by the food, which seemed pretty substantial. My salad turned out to mainly consist of a large, succulent-looking, warm seared yellowfin tuna loin, and my companion's steak was, well, a steak. So much for a sandwich lunch.

He pronounced his steak "a bit thin" (what do you expect in a sandwich?) but tender and sweet, while the accompanying caramelised onions were pronounced delicious.

My salad was difficult to fault. The tuna tasting just as good as it looked, the salad was crisp with a splendid dressing, while the tomatoes, unusually, actually tasted of tomato. My only reservation was the tinned, stoneless olives, which were rather flavourless, but at least avoided a nasty accident of biting on something hard.

Although the lounge menu is small, it does offer some proper puddings, as well as teatime treats. We were tempted by the dark chocolate and orange truffle, but were far too full. Our undoing came when we ordered coffee, which appeared with four shortbread biscuits. They didn't look particularly interested, but when I next looked up from the Daily Telegraph, three had disappeared, so I thought I had better try the last one, which looked a bit lonely. It tasted homemade.

The five-star treatment extends to the milk, which is organic, and the coffee, which is fairtrade. With St Giles Fair around the corner, this reminder of a less frenetic pace of life might come in very handy. Menu